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Alphonso Aristippus arms Atossa Bayes Belvidera Ben Jonson blank verse blood brother called Captain Cler comedy court Custance Cynth Damon dare dead dear death Dion dost doth Drury Lane Duch Endimion Enter Erostrato Eubulus Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faustus favour fear Ferd Ferrex gentleman give gods Gorboduc grace hand hath havo hear heart heaven honour Horace Ianthe Jaff king Lady live look lord lovo madam marriage married master Master Doctor Mephistophilis Mery mistress never Nineveh noble Ovid Philaster pity Plautus play poet Porrex pray prince Pythias Queen Ralph Roister Doister revenge Royster scene servant Shakespeare soul speak sweet sword talk tell theatre thee thine thing thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Thras Tibullus unto verse wife woman word
第148页 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
第151页 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
第148页 - And, father cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven: If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, There was not such a gracious creature born.
第348页 - No, all is hushed, and still as death — 'tis dreadful ! How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof, By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, Looking tranquillity. It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
第111页 - Her lips suck forth my soul! See, where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
第159页 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
第109页 - Why this is hell, nor am I out of it : Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being deprived of everlasting bliss ? O Faustus ! leave these frivolous demands, Which strike a terror to my fainting soul.
第314页 - What the unsearchable dispose Of Highest Wisdom brings about, And ever best found in the close. Oft He seems to hide His face, But unexpectedly returns...
第375页 - Through the whole piece you may observe such a similitude of manners in high and low life, that it is difficult to determine whether (in the fashionable vices) the fine gentlemen imitate the gentlemen of the road, or the gentlemen of the road the fine gentlemen.- Had the Play remain'd, as I at first intended, it would have carried a most excellent moral.