The British Theatre; Or, A Collection of Plays: Which are Acted at the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket ...

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Mrs. Inchbald
Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1808

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Page 45 - Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain; And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing; But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind, Works all her folly up, and casts it outward To the world's open view...
Page 23 - A thousand wishes, and ten thousand prayers. Millions of blessings wait you to the wars; Millions of sighs and tears she sends you too. And would have sent As many dear embraces to your arms.
Page 77 - Well. This rage is vain, sir ; For fighting, fear not, you shall have your hands full, Upon the least incitement ; and whereas You charge me with a debt of a thousand pounds, If there be law, (howe'er you have no conscience,) Either restore my land, or I'll recover A debt, that's truly due to me from you, In value ten times more than what you challenge. Over. I in thy debt ! O impudence ! did I not purchase The land left by thy father...
Page 7 - Of mimic'd statesmen and their merry king. No wit to flatter left of all his store! No fool to laugh at, which he valued more. There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends, And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends.
Page 13 - It sits too near you. Ant. Here, here it lies; a lump of lead by day, And, in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, The hag that rifles my dreams Vent.
Page 18 - Sir, it is her will, Which we, that are her servants, ought to serve, And not dispute. Howe'er, you are nobly welcome; And, if you please to stay, that you may think so, There came, not six days since, from Hull, a pipe Of rich Canary, which shall spend itself For my lady's honour. GREEDY. Is it of the right race?
Page 65 - I'm only troubled, The life I bear is worn to such a rag, 'Tis scarce worth giving. I could wish, indeed, We threw it from us with a better grace; That, like two lions taken in the toils, We might at least thrust out our paws, and wound The hunters that inclose us.
Page 11 - tis my birthday, and I'll keep it With double pomp of sadness. 'Tis what the day deserves, which gave me breath. Why was I raised the meteor of the world, Hung in the skies, and blazing as I travelled, 'Till all my fires were spent; and then cast downward, To be trod out by Caesar? VENT, [aside']. On my soul, 'Tis mournful, wondrous mournful ! ANT.
Page 37 - She lay, and leant her cheek upon her hand, And cast a look so languishingly sweet, As if, secure of all beholders...
Page 26 - Ant. I will be justified in all I do To late posterity, and therefore hear me. If I mix a lie With any truth, reproach me freely with it ; Else, favour me with silence.

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