Bell's British Theatre,: Consisting of the Most Esteemed English Plays ...

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John Bell, near Exeter Exchange, in the Strand, and C. Etherington, at York, 1778

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Page 30 - I do see Whereto you tend. Fall rocks upon his head That put this to you ! 'Tis some subtle train To bring that noble frame of yours to nought.
Page 10 - Now loved and wondered at ; next, our intent To plant you deeply our immediate heir Both to our blood and kingdoms. For this lady, (The best part of your life, as you confirm me, And I believe,) though her few years and sex Yet teach her nothing but her fears and blushes, Desires without desire, discourse and knowledge Only of what...
Page 14 - Most honoured sir, she is ; And, for the penance but of an idle dream, Has undertook a tedious pilgrimage. Enter a Lady. Phi. Is it to me, Or any of these gentlemen, you come ? Lady. To you, brave lord ; the princess would entreat Your present company.
Page 36 - And laugh'd upon it, made it but a mirth, And flung it by? Do I live now like him, Under this tyrant King, that languishing Hears his sad bell and sees his mourners? Do I Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length Under a woman's falsehood?
Page 56 - So high in thoughts as I. You left a kiss Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep From you for ever; I did hear you talk. Far above singing.
Page 54 - Are. This earth, how false it is ! What means is left for me To clear myself? It lies in your" belief ; My lords, believe me ; and let all things else Struggle together to dishonour me.
Page 46 - Alas, he's mad ! Come, will you lead me on ? Phi. By all the oaths that men ought most to keep, And gods do punish most when men do break, He touch'd her not.
Page 23 - Twixt every prayer he says, to name you once, As others drop a bead, — be to be in love, Then, madam, I dare swear he loves you. Are.
Page 21 - tis so; and when time is full, That thou hast well discharged this heavy trust, Laid on so weak a one, I will again With joy receive thee ; as I live, I will ! Nay...
Page 40 - ARE. Where am I now? Feet, find me out a way, Without the counsel of my troubled head. I'll follow you boldly about these woods, O'er mountains, thorough brambles, pits, and floods. Heaven, I hope, will ease me: I am sick. Sits down Enter BELLARIO BEL. Vender's my lady. God knows I want nothing, Because I do not wish to live ; yet I Will try her charity.

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