A Select Collection of Old Plays: Greenes Tu quoque; or the city gallant Albumazar; A woman kill'd with kindness; A match at midnight; Fuimus Troes. The true TrojansSeptimus Prowett, 23, Old Bond Street., 1825 |
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A Select Collection of Old Plays: Greenes Tu quoque; or the city gallant ... Robert Dodsley Vizualizare completă - 1825 |
A Select Collection of Old Plays: Greenes Tu quoque; or the city gallant ... Robert Dodsley Vizualizare completă - 1825 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Albumazar Alexander Ancient Androgeus Anne Antonio Armellina astrologer Belinus Bevilona Bloodhound Brennus brother Bubble Cæsar Captain Cassibelanus CHARLES MOUNTFORD Cranwell Cricca death doth Ear-lack Enter Eugenio Eulinus Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fear Flavia Frankford Furbo Gartred gentleman Geoffrey of Monmouth Geraldine give gleek hand Harpax hast hath hear heart Hirildas honest Honest Whore honour is't Jarvis Jenkin Joice King kiss Lelio Longfield look Maid married Master mistress Moll musick ne'er Nennius never Nicholas night on't Pandolfo play pr'ythee pray Pursenet quarto quoque Randall Rash rogue Rollano Ronca Scattergood SCENE Serjeant servant Shafton shalt Sir Charles Sir Francis Sir Lionel sirrah sister soul speak Spendall Staines stay Sulpitia Susan sweet tell thee there's thou Tickleman tongue Trincalo unto Volusenus wench Wendoll whore Widow William Rowley word Zounds
Pasaje populare
Pagina 398 - 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.
Pagina 253 - As much as is my service, or my life Is worth. All this I know; but this, and more, More by a thousand dangers, could not hire me To smother such a heinous wrong from you. I saw, and I have said.
Pagina 257 - In thy false dealing thou hast robb'd my heart. Booty you play, I like a loser stand, Having no heart or here, or in my hand. I will give o'er the set, I am not well.
Pagina 268 - Why, God make my mistress an honest woman ! are not these good words ? Pray God my new master play not the knave with my old master ! is there any hurt in this? God send no villainy intended! and, if they do sup together, pray God they do not lie together ! God make my mistress chaste, and make us all His servants!
Pagina 263 - Oh, me ! more distress'd in this Than all my troubles. Hale me back, Double my irons, and my sparing meals Put into halves, and lodge me in a dungeon More deep, more dark, more cold, more comfortless. By Acton freed ! Not all thy manacles Could fetter so my heels, as this one word Hath thrall'd my heart ; and it must now lie bound In more strict prison than thy stony jail.
Pagina 274 - Nay, to wipe but this scandal out, I would hazard The rich and dear redemption of my soul. He cannot be so base as to forgive me, Nor I so shameless to accept his pardon.
Pagina 254 - She is well born, descended nobly ; Virtuous her education, her repute Is in the general voice of all the country Honest and fair; her carriage, her demeanour, In all her actions that concern the love To me her husband, modest, chaste, and godly.
Pagina 284 - You have beheld the wofull'st wretch on earth— A woman made of tears: would you had words To express but what you see ! My inward grief No tongue can utter; yet unto your power You may describe my sorrow, and disclose To thy sad master my abundant woes. Nich. I'll do your commendations.
Pagina 283 - If you return unto my master, say (Though not from me, for I am all unworthy To blast his name so with a strumpet's tongue) That you have seen me weep, wish myself dead : Nay, you may say, too, (for my vow is past) Last night you saw me eat and drink my last. This to your master you may say and swear ; For it is writ in heaven, and decreed here.
Pagina 260 - Which only I have power to reverse : In her I'll bury all my hate of him. — Go seek the Keeper, Malby, bring him to me. To save his body, I his debts will pay ; To save his life, I his appeal will stay. [Exeunt. Enter Sir CHARLES MOUNTFORD in prison, with irons, his feet bare, his garments all ragged and torn.