A select collection of old plays [ed. by R. Dodsley].

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Page 402 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair, Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir, As life were in't. I have supp'd full with horrors : Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Page 410 - Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the Poor ; This year a Reservoir, to keep and spare ; The next, a Fountain, spouting...
Page 294 - jug, jug, jug,' sings she ; From bush to bush, from tree to tree : Why in one place then tarry we ? Come away ! why do we stay ? We have no debt or rent to pay ; No bargains or accounts to make, Nor land or lease to let or take : Or if we had, should that remore us When all the world 's our own before us, And where we pass and make resort, It is our kingdom and our court. 'Cuckoo,
Page 211 - RIP VAN WINKLE. A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER. By Woden, God of Saxons, From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday, Truth is a thing that ever I will keep Unto thylke day in which I creep into My sepulchre.
Page 162 - Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
Page 212 - In Laneham's Account of the Entertainment at Kcnchvorth Castle, it is said, ' and also by her highness [Q. Elizabeth] accustomed mercy and charitee, nyne cured of the peynful and dangerous diseaz called the King's Evil, for that kings and queens of this realm without oother medsin, (save only by handling and prayer) only doo it.
Page 89 - The youth all pale, with shiv'ring fear was stung, And vain excuses falter'd on his tongue. Alcides snatch'd him, as with suppliant face He strove to clasp his knees, and beg for grace: He toss'd him o'er his head with airy course, And hurl'd with more than with an engine's force; Far o'er th' Eubaean main aloof he flies, And hardens by degrees amid the skies.
Page 227 - But the best description is the following in Cartwright's play, The Ordinary, 1651 : ' Thou thing ! Thy belly looks like to some strutting hill, O'ershadowed with thy rough beard like a wood; Or like a larger jug, that some men call A Bellarmine, but we a conscience, Whereon the tender hand of pagan workman Over the proud ambitious head hath carved An idol large, with beard episcopal, Making the vessel look like tyrant Eglon...
Page 81 - Would I could say so too ; I wish as much, but 'tis you must confirm it, fair mistress. One bare word of your consent, and 'tis done; the sweetness of your looks encourage me that you will join pity with your beauty. There shall be nothing wanting in me to demerit it ; and then, I hope, although I am base, Base in respect of you, divine and pure ; Dutiful service may your love procure.
Page 24 - See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.