Chatsworth; Or, The Romance of a Week, Volume 2

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H. Colburn, 1844
 

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Page 149 - 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 needle-work you wrought. Ant. Of Ariadne, madam ? Asp. Yes, that piece. This should be Theseus, h' as a cozening face ; You meant him for a man ? Ant.
Page 129 - You'll come, my lord, and see the virgins weep When I am laid in earth, though you yourself Can know no pity : thus I wind myself Into this willow garland, and am prouder, That I was once your love (though now refus'd) Than to have had another true to me.
Page 127 - Asp. It were a timeless smile should prove my cheek: It were a fitter hour for me to laugh, When at the altar the religious priest Were pacifying the offended powers With sacrifice, than now.
Page 127 - In giving me a spotless offering To young Amintor's bed, as we are now For you. Pardon, Evadne : would my worth Were great as yours, or that the King, or he, Or both, thought so ! Perhaps he found me worthless : But till he did so, in these ears of mine, These eredulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words That art or love could frame.
Page 150 - Mine arms thus, and mine hair blown with the wind, Wild as that desert, and let all about me Tell that I am forsaken, do my face (If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila, strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument ; and...
Page 223 - Tragedy, which leads to another, where Amintor says: " This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel " A stark affrighted motion in my blood." Here earth means corporal part. M. Mason. Again, in this play : " Can I go forward, when my heart is here ? " Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out" Again, in our author's 146th Sonnet : " Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth, — .
Page 149 - When Paris brought home Helen. Now, a tear; And then thou art a piece expressing fully The Carthage queen, when, from a cold sea-rock, 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...
Page 224 - Amin. This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel A stark affrighted motion in my blood ; My soul grows weary of her house, and I All over am a trouble to myself.
Page 150 - Tell that I am forsaken, do my face (If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila, strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leaveless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges, and behind me Make all a desolation; look, look, wenches, A miserable life of this poor picture.

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