The Works of Beaumont and Fletcher, Volume 1

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Page 240 - A tragi-comedy is not so called in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is enough to make it no tragedy, yet brings some near it, which is enough to make it no comedy...
Page lxxii - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Page xvi - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid ! Heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life ; then when there hath been thrown Wit able enough to justify the town For three days past ; wit that might warrant be For the whole City to talk foolishly Till that were cancell'd ; and when that was gone, We left an air behind us, which alone...
Page 30 - Tis less than to be born ; a lasting sleep; A quiet resting from all jealousy, A thing we all pursue. I know, besides, It is but giving over of a game That must be lost.
Page 40 - Whilst there was hope to hide me from men's eyes, For other than I seem'd, that I might ever Abide with you. Then sat I by the fount, Where first you took me up. King. Search out a match Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt, And I will pay thy dowry ; and thyself Wilt well deserve him. Bel. Never, sir, will I Marry ; it is a thing within my vow...
Page 3 - Full with her sorrow, she tied fast her eyes To the fair Trojan ships ; and, having lost them, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear. Antiphila, What would this wench do, if she were Aspatia ? Here she would stand, till some more pitying god Turn'd her to marble ! 'Tis enough, my wench ! Show me the piece of needlework you wrought.
Page xxxiii - Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, And paid the nymph again as much in tears : A garland lay him by...
Page xxxiii - Dwell in his face, I asked him all his story. He told me that his parents gentle died, Leaving him to the mercy of the fields, Which gave him roots ; and of the crystal springs.
Page xxvi - Their plots were generally more regular than Shakespeare's, especially those which were made before Beaumont's death ; and they understood and imitated the conversation of gentlemen much better ; whose wild debaucheries, and quickness of wit in repartees, no poet can ever paint as they have done.
Page 40 - Your worth and virtue ; and, as I did grow More and more apprehensive, I did thirst To see the man so praised. But yet all this Was but a maiden-longing, to be lost As soon as found ; till, sitting in my window, Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god, I thought, (but it was you,) enter our gates : My blood flew out and back again, as fast As I had...

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