What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
believe better Brisk comes Congreve Cynthia dear death deceived don't dost Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face Fain Fainall faith father fear follow fool Fore Foresight fortune Frail give gone hand hast head hear heart Heaven hold honour hope husband I'll JEREMY keep Lady Froth Lady Ply Lady Touch Lady Wish ladyship leave live look Lord Lord Froth Lord Touch madam marry Maskwell matter mean Mellefont mind Mirabell nature never night once person play poor Prue reason Scan Scandal SCENE sense Sir Paul Sir Samp Sir Sampson Sir Wil speak sure talk Tattle tell thee there's thing thou thought told Touchwood true turn Valentine Wait wife woman young Zara
Page 46 - And just abandoning the ungrateful stage : Unprofitably kept at Heaven's expense, I live a rent-charge on his providence. But you, whom every Muse and Grace adorn, Whom I foresee to better fortune born, Be kind to my remains ; and, oh defend, Against your judgment, your departed friend! Let not the insulting foe my fame pursue, But shade those laurels which descend to you : And take for tribute what these lines express ; You merit more, nor could my love do less.
Page 357 - Ah, madam, there was a time! — but let it be forgotten — I confess I have deservedly forfeited the high place I once held of sighing at your feet. Nay, kill me not, by turning from me in disdain.
Page 390 - How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof, By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, Looking tranquillity. It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Page 280 - Tis no matter for that, his wit will excuse that. A wit should no more be sincere than a woman constant: one argues a decay of parts, as t'other of beauty.
Page 350 - O daughter, daughter, is it possible thou should'st be my child, bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh, and as I may say, another me, and yet transgress the most minute particle of severe virtue?
Page 334 - Are you? I think I have— and the horrid man looks as if he thought so too— well, you ridiculous thing you, I'll have you — I won't be kissed, nor I won't be thanked— here kiss my hand though. — So, hold your tongue now, don't say a word.
Page 157 - O Mr. Trapland, my old friend, welcome ! — Jeremy, a chair quickly ; a bottle of sack and a toast ; — fly — a chair first.
Page 416 - Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.