...Only a happier silence did betide them : She hath no faults, who hath the art to hide them. VIT. COR. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. FLAM. Then cast anchor. Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; But seas do laugh, shew white,...

...Only a happier silence did betide them : She hath no faults, who hath the art to hide them. VIT. COR. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. FLAM. Then cast anchor. Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; But seas do laugh, shew white,...

...vicious, Only a happier silence did betide them : She hath no faults, who hath the art to hide them. Vit. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. Flam. Then cast anchor. Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear ; But seas do laugh, shew white,...

...Only a happier silence did betide them : She hath no faults who hath the art to hide them. Vit. Cor. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. Flam. Then cast anchor. Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; But seas do laugh, show white,...

...love thee now: if woman do breed man, She ought to teach him manhood: fare thee well. . . . VIT.COR. My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither FLAM. Then cast anchor. Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; But seas do laugh, show white,...

...fire from hell To light theo thither. With the same terrible energy Vittoria Corombona exclaims : — My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. Yet, though death seemed so terrible, their dauntless courage and strong nerves enabled these fierce...

...hell To light thce thither. With the same terrible energy Vittoria Corombona exclaims : — My '"I, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither. Yet. though death seemed so terrible, their dauntless courage and strong nerves enabled these fierce...

...queen again. Pale and stern and beautiful she dies, with the words of wonderful despair on her lips : My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither ! Very different is Flamineo's death ; he, too, has no cowardly shrinking, he is stolid as ever, and...

...is in itself simple and sym1 How fine, on the other hand, is her preceding exclamation of horror: ' My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither.' It is thus that this mysterious woman seems to pass away from us, rather than with her subsequent words...

...queen again. Pale and stern and beautiful she dies, with the words of wonderful despair on her lips : " My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven, I know not whither ! " Very different is Flamineo's death ; he, too, has no cowardly shrinking, he is stolid as ever,...