Bell's British Theatre, Volume 16

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John Bell
J. Bell, 1797
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Page 90 - Ay, there's the banishment ! Oh, hear me; hear me, With strictest justice: For I beg no favour; And if I have offended you, then kill me, But do not banish me. Ant. I must not hear you. I have a fool within me takes your part; But honour stops my ears.
Page 109 - Caesar's pride? What! to be led in triumph through the streets, A spectacle to base plebeian eyes; While some dejected friend of Antony's, Close in a corner, shakes his head, and mutters A secret curse on her who ruin'd him?
Page 26 - Ant. Come on, my soldier! Our hearts and arms are still the same : I long Once more to meet our foes, that thou and I, Like Time and Death, marching before our troops, May taste fate to...
Page 91 - Good Heav'n ! they weep at parting. Must I weep too ? that calls 'em innocent. I must not weep ; and yet I must, to think That I must not forgive Live, but live wretched ; 'tis but just you should Who made me so : live from each other's sight ; Let me not hear you meet.
Page 48 - And sure the gods, like me, are fond of him: His virtues lie so mingled with his crimes, As would confound their choice to punish one, And not reward the other. Enter ANTONY. Ant. We can conquer, You see, without your aid. We have...
Page 35 - And he that bribe. ANT. But have I no remembrance? ALEX. Yes, a dear one; Your slave the queen ANT. My mistress. ALEX. Then your mistress; Your mistress would, she says, have sent her soul, But that you had long since; she humbly begs This ruby bracelet, set with bleeding hearts, (The emblems of her own), may bind your arm.
Page 12 - I'll acquaint you why I sought you here, And what's our present work. [They withdraw to a corner of the stage ; and VENTIDIUS, with the other, comes forward to the front.
Page 93 - Hast pushed my boat to open sea; to prove, At my sad cost, if thou canst steer it back. It cannot be; I'm lost too far; I'm ruined! Hence, thou impostor, traitor, monster, devil ! I can no more: thou, and my griefs, have sunk Me down so low, that I want voice to curse thee. Alex. Suppose some shipwrecked seaman near the shore, Dropping...
Page 112 - Already, death, I feel thee in my veins: I go with such a will to find my lord, That we shall quickly meet. A heavy numbness creeps through every limb, And now 'tis at my head; my eyelids fall, And my dear love is vanished in a mist. Where shall I find him, where?
Page 58 - tis mine; it never shall be said, Octavia's husband was her brother's slave. Sir, you are free; free, even from her you loathe; For, though my brother bargains for your love, Makes me the price and cement of your peace, I have a soul like yours; I cannot take Your love as alms, nor beg what I deserve.

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