Firmilian: A "spasmodic" TragedyRedfield, 1854 - 165 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
Alonzo Alphonzo APOLLODORUS Badajoz beauty blood brain CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO Castilian Chanticleer characters charms CHIEF INQUISITOR Chorus of IGNES Christian Church cloth Clovernook CONFESSOR Costermonger Courier coverture cups D'AGUILAR dare dear deed dream ducats Edition Enter FIRMILIAN Exit eyes FABIAN faith fool genius guilt hand hast hath HAVERILLO hear heard heart hedge-hog holy Home Gazette honor hour IGNES FATUI Illustrations by Darley Inquisition interest Is't Lilian lips living Louis XV MARIANA master moral never NICODEMUS night OLD INQUISITOR OLIVAREZ PERCY JONES PEREZ pillar poem poet poetic poetry PRIEST rack ransom Raymond Lully reader romance Salamanca Santillane SECOND FAMILIAR SECOND GENTLEMAN SIMMS sing sketches soul story style sweet tell thee There's thine things thou thought thrilling thunder Twere unto vault volume W. E. AYTOUN word wretch York Daily young
Popular passages
Page 131 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Page 153 - No truly — I would bind it up with more, And make a fitting posy for my breast. If I were stinted in my general choice, I'd crop the lily, tender, fresh, and white, — The shrinking pretty lily — and would give Its modest contrast to the gaudier rose. What next? some flower that does not love the day — The dark, full-scented night-stock well might serve To join the other two. FIRMILIAN. A sweet selection! Think'st thou they'd bloom together on one breast With a united fragrance? MARIANA. Wherefore...
Page 16 - Right eastward, till I lighted at the foot Of holy Helicon, and drank my fill At the clear spout of Aganippe's stream. I've rolled my limbs in ecstasy along The selfsame turf on which old Homer lay That night he dreamed of Helen and of Troy: And I have heard, at midnight, the sweet strains Come quiring from the hill/top, where, enshrined In the rich foldings of a silver cloud, The Muses sang Apollo into sleep.
Page 99 - Pillars and altar, o^an-ioft and screen, With a singed swarm of mortals intermixed, Were whirled in anguish to the shuddering stars, And all creation trembled at the din. It was my doing — mine alone ! and I Stand greater by this deed than the vain fool That thrust his torch beneath Diana's shrine. For what was it inspired Erostratus But a weak vanity to have his name Blaze out for arson in the catalogue ? I have been wiser. No man knows the name Of me, the pyrotechnist who have given A new apotheosis...
Page 105 - A moment. — Do you see Yon melon-vender's stall down i' the square ? Methinks the fruit that, close beside the eye, Would show as largely as a giant's head, Is dwindled to a heap of gooseberries ! If Justice held no bigger scales than those Yon pigmy seems to balance in his hands, Her utmost fiat scarce would weigh a drachm 1 How say you ? HAVERILLO.
Page 154 - I'll proudly wear, but not alone. Dost comprehend me ? MARIANA. » Ha ! Firmilian — How my eyes dazzle ! FIRMILIAN. Let me show you now The lily I have ta'en to bind with thee. [He brings LILIAN from the /Summer-house.
Page 112 - He labours not to sing, for his bright thoughts Resolve themselves at once into a strain Without the aid of balanced artifice. All hail, great poet! SANCHO. Save you, my merry master! Need you any leeks or onions? Here's the primest cauliflower, though I say it, in all Badajoz. Set it up at a distance of some ten yards, and I'll forfeit my ass if it does not look bigger than the Alcayde's wig. Or would these radishes suit your turn? There's nothing like your radish for cooling the blood and purging...
Page 159 - Where am I? If my mind deceives me not, Upon that common where, two years ago, An old blind beggar came and craved an alms, Thereby destroying a stupendous thought Just bursting in my mind - a glorious bud Of poesy, but blasted ere its bloom! I bade the old fool take the leftward path, Which leads to the deep quarry, where he fell...
Page 104 - Out of a too much pampered fantasy. What are we, after all, but mortal men. Who eat, drink, sleep, need raiment and the like. As well as any jolterhead alive? Trust me, my friend, we cannot feed on dreams, Or stay the hungry cravings of the maw By mere poetic banquets. FIRMILIAN. Say you so?