British Theatre, Comprising Tragedies, Comedies, Operas, and Farces, from the Most Classic Writers: Complete in One Volume, 1. köide

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Fleischer, 1828 - 908 pages
 

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Page 15 - But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Page 490 - ... with my back to the fire. I like to give them a hearty reception in the old style at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of.
Page 359 - I hate a lover that can dare to think he draws a moment's air, independent on the bounty of his mistress. There is not so impudent a thing in nature, as the saucy look of an assured man, confident of success. The pedantic arrogance of a very husband has not so pragmatical an air. Ah! I'll never marry, unless I am first made sure of my will and pleasure.
Page 189 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face and you'll forget 'em all.
Page 15 - I'm weary of conjectures : — this must end them. [Laying his hand on his sword. Thus am I doubly armed : my death and life, My bane and antidote, are both before me. This in a moment brings me to an end; But this informs me I shall never die.
Page 489 - You must not be so talkative, Diggory. You must be all attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of talking...
Page 487 - Then come, put the jorum about, And let us be merry and clever, Our hearts and our liquors are stout, Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for ever.
Page 488 - I have taken from the barn, are to make a shew at the side-table ; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourself behind my chair. But you're not to stand so, with your hands in your pockets. Take your hands from your pockets, Roger ; and from your head, you blockhead you.
Page 485 - I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very particular. Is there a creature in the whole country, but ourselves, that does not take a trip to town now and then, to rub off the rust a little?
Page 116 - 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.

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