Bell's British Theatre, Volume 15John Bell J. Bell, 1797 |
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Page 25
... death ! Thou or thy cause shall never want assistance , Whilst I have blood or fortune fit to serve thee : Command my heart , thou'rt every way its master . Jef . No , there's a secret pride in bravely dying . Pier . Rats die in holes ...
... death ! Thou or thy cause shall never want assistance , Whilst I have blood or fortune fit to serve thee : Command my heart , thou'rt every way its master . Jef . No , there's a secret pride in bravely dying . Pier . Rats die in holes ...
Page 35
... death , " And find its ease , but late . " Pier . Nay , could'st thou not As well , my friend , have stretch'd the curse to all The senate round , as to one single villain ? Jaf . But curses stick not : could I kill with cursing , By ...
... death , " And find its ease , but late . " Pier . Nay , could'st thou not As well , my friend , have stretch'd the curse to all The senate round , as to one single villain ? Jaf . But curses stick not : could I kill with cursing , By ...
Page 37
... the night ; By all good pow'rs above , and ill below ; By love and friendship , dearer than my life , No pow'r or death shall make me false to thee . D 200 Pier . Here we embrace , and I'll unlock my Aat II . 37 VENICE PRESERVED .
... the night ; By all good pow'rs above , and ill below ; By love and friendship , dearer than my life , No pow'r or death shall make me false to thee . D 200 Pier . Here we embrace , and I'll unlock my Aat II . 37 VENICE PRESERVED .
Page 61
... death , yet honest as the nature Of man first made , e'er fraud and vice were fashion . Bel . What's he , to whose curst hands last night thou gav'st me ? Was that well done ? Oh ! I could tell a story , Would rouse thy lion heart out ...
... death , yet honest as the nature Of man first made , e'er fraud and vice were fashion . Bel . What's he , to whose curst hands last night thou gav'st me ? Was that well done ? Oh ! I could tell a story , Would rouse thy lion heart out ...
Page 70
... death in every quarter ; " With all that sad disorder can produce " To make a spectacle of horror ; then , " Then let us call to mind , my dearest friends , " That there is nothing pure upon the earth ; " That the most valu`d things ...
... death in every quarter ; " With all that sad disorder can produce " To make a spectacle of horror ; then , " Then let us call to mind , my dearest friends , " That there is nothing pure upon the earth ; " That the most valu`d things ...
Common terms and phrases
Adrastus Alcander Alvarez arms art thou behold Belvidera Belzara blood bosom brave Carlos Creon crown cruel curs'd curse dagger dare dear death Dioc dreadful Duchess of SUFFOLK e'er Enter Eurydice ev'n ev'ry Exeunt Exit eyes faith fatal fate father fear give gods Gormaz grief guard Guil Guilford Hæmon hand hear heart Heav'n honour hope incest Jaffier Jocasta king L. J. Gray Lady JANE Laius lord Lord Guilford Dudley mercy mourn murder Nacky ne'er night noble o'er OEdip passion peace Pembroke Phor Phorbas Pier Pierre pity Polybus pow'r prince queen rage revenge royal ruin sacred Sanchez senate shew sorrows soul speak Suff sword tears tell Thebans Thebes thee there's thou art thou hast thought thy love Tiresias traitor twas vengeance villain virtue wretched wrong'd Ximena
Popular passages
Page 111 - Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head, Where everlasting sweets are always springing, With a continual giving hand: let peace, Honour, and safety, always hover round her: Feed her with plenty, let her eyes ne'er see A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning: Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest, Harmless as her own thoughts; and prop her virtue, To bear the loss of one that too much lov'd, And comfort her with patience in our parting.
Page 76 - Last night, my love! JAFF. Name, name it not again. It shows a beastly image to my fancy Will wake me into madness. Oh, the villain! That durst approach such purity as thine On terms so vile! Destruction, swift destruction Fall on my coward head, and make my name The common scorn of fools if I forgive him!
Page 122 - Lead me into some place that's fit for mourning; Where the free air, light, and the cheerful sun May never enter. Hang it round with black; ;Set up one taper that may last a day — As long as I've to live; and there all leave me, Sparing no tears when you this tale relate, But bid all cruel fathers dread my fate.
Page 25 - The bitterness her tender spirit tastes of, I own myself a coward: bear my weakness, If throwing thus my arms about thy neck, I play the boy, and blubber in thy bosom. Oh! I shall drown thee with my sorrows! Pierr. Burn ! First burn, and level Venice to thy ruin. What! starve like beggars' brats in frosty weather, Under a hedge, and whine ourselves to death!
Page 47 - To you, Sirs, and your honours, I bequeath her, And with her this. When I prove unworthy — (gives a dagger) You know the rest — then strike it to her heart; And tell her, he who three whole happy years Lay in her arms, and each kind night repeated The passionate vows of still increasing love, Sent that reward for all her truth and sufferings.
Page 114 - Oh, there's all quiet, here all rage and fury: The air's too thin, and pierces my weak brain: I long for thick substantial sleep: hell, hell. Burst from the centre, rage and roar aloud, If thou art half so hot, so mad as I am.
Page 88 - I have not wrong'd thee, by these tears I have not. But still am honest, true, and hope too, valiant: My mind still full of thee, therefore still noble; Let not thy eyes then shun me, nor thy heart Detest me utterly; oh, look upon me, Look back and see my sad sincere submission ! How my heart swells, as even 'twould burst my bosom; Fond of its gaol, and labouring to be at thee ! What shall I do ? what say to make thee hear me ? Pierr.
Page 17 - You stole her from me ; like a thief you stole her, At dead of night ! that cursed hour you chose To rifle me of all my heart held dear.
Page 16 - I receiv'd you, Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits: My house, my table, nay, my fortune, too, My very self, was yours; you might have us'd me To your best service.
Page 24 - Priuli's cruel hand had sign'd it. Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face, Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate, Tumbled into a heap for public sale. There was another making villainous jests At thy undoing.