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The British Theatre: Or, A Collection of Plays, which are Acted ..., Volume 12
Visualização integral - 1824
Acast Alon Alonzo arms bear Belvidera better Bevil blood brother Captain Carlos Cast Castalio cause Cham dare dear death Enter Exit eyes fair false fate father fear fortune give hand hang happy hast hath hear heart Heaven honour hope hour Humph husband I'll Jaff Jaffier keep kind lady leave Leon Leonora live Lockit look lord lost Lucy madam married master means meet mind Monimia Myrt nature ne'er never night once pain passion Peach Phil Pierre Polly Polydore poor rest ruin SCENE Seal secret soon soul speak sure talk tears tell thee There's thing thou thought trust villain virtue wife wilt wish woman wretch wrong young Zanga
Página 16 - Oh woman ! lovely woman ! Nature made thee To temper man : we had been brutes without you ! Angels are painted fair to look like you : There's in you all, that we believe of" heaven ; Amazing brightness, purity and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Página 13 - Received thee to the arms of Belvidera, The scene of all thy joys, was violated By the coarse hands of filthy dungeon villains, And thrown amongst the common lumber.
Página 53 - POLLY. Sure, Madam, you cannot think me so happy as to be the object of your jealousy. A man is always afraid of a woman who loves him too well— so that I must expect to be neglected and avoided. LUCY. Then our cases, my dear Polly, are exactly alike. Both of us, indeed, have been too fond.
Página 32 - Dear Mrs. Coaxer, you are welcome. You look charmingly today. I hope you don't want the repairs of quality, and lay on paint. — Dolly Trull! kiss me, you slut; are you as amorous as ever, hussy?
Página 61 - If cold white mortals censure this great deed, Warn them, they judge not of superior beings, Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom Revenge is virtue.
Página 49 - Burthensome to itself, a few years longer, To lose it, may be, at last in a lewd quarrel For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art ! No, this vile world and I have long been jangling, And cannot part on better terms than now, When only men like thee are fit to live in't.
Página 36 - Man may escape from rope and gun; Nay, some have out-liv'd the doctor's pill; Who takes a woman must be undone, That basilisk is sure to kill. The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets, So he that tastes woman, woman, woman, He that tastes woman, ruin meets.
Página 38 - Should there, my friends, be found amongst us one False to this glorious enterprise, what fate, What vengeance were enough for such a villain ? Eliot. Death here without repentance, hell hereafter.