Bell's British Theatre: Consisting of the Most Esteemed English Plays

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J. Bell; & C. Etherington, 1776 - English drama
 

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Page 80 - Ever my leader, ev'n in death! My queen and thou have got the start of me, And I'm the lag of honour. — Gone so soon?
Page 6 - ... tis but necessary, when they cannot please, that they should take care not to offend. But as the civilest man in the company is commonly the dullest, so these authors, while they are afraid to make you laugh or cry, out of pure good manners make you sleep.
Page 58 - The abode of falsehood, violated vows, And injured love? For pity, let me go; For, if there be a place of long repose, I'm sure I want it. My disdainful lord Can never break that quiet; nor awake The sleeping soul, with hollowing in my tomb Such words as fright her hence. — Unkind...
Page 19 - Ant. The herd come jumping by me, And, fearless, quench their thirst, while I look on, And take me for their fellow-citizen. More of this image, more; it lulls my thoughts.
Page 59 - Could you not beg An hour's admittance to his private ear? Like one who wanders through long barren wilds, And yet foreknows no hospitable inn Is near to...
Page 67 - twill pose the gods, To find an equal torture. Two, two such !— Oh, there's no farther name, — two such ! to me, 'To me, who lock'd my soul within your breasts, Had no desires, no joys, no life, but you; When half the globe was mine, I gave it you In dowry with...
Page 29 - He shows his weakness who declines the combat, And you must urge your fortune. Could he speak More plainly ? To my ears, the message sounds — Come to my rescue, Cleopatra, come; Come, free me from Ventidius; from my tyrant: See me, and give me a pretence to leave him !— I hear his trumpets.
Page 30 - Good heavens, is this — is this the man who braves me ? Who bids my age make way ? Drives me before him, To the world's ridge, and sweeps me off like rubbish ? Vent.
Page 65 - Lingered behind with her. I hear, my lord, You make conditions for her, And would include her treaty. Wondrous proofs Of love to me ! Ant. Are you my friend, Ventidius ? Or are you turned a Dolabella too, And let this fury loose ? Vent.
Page 54 - Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain ; And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing: But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind, Works all her folly up, and casts it outward To the world's open view...

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