The Mourning Bride. A Tragedy: As it is Acted at the Theatre in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, by His Majesty's Servants. Written by Mr. Congreve

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Jacob Tonson: and sold, 1703 - 66 pages

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Page 15 - Whistling thro' hollows of this vaulted isle: We'll listen— LEONORA. Hark! ALMERIA. No, all is hush'd, and still as death. — Tis dreadful! How reverend is the face of this tall pile; Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, To bear aloft its arch'd and pond'rous roof, By its own weight made stedfast and immoveable, Looking tranquillity!
Page 47 - Hear me, thou common parent ! 1 have no parent else — be thou a mother, And step between me and the curse of him Who was — who was, but is no more a father, But brands my innocence with horrid crimes ; And for the tender names of child and daughter, Now calls me murderer and parricide.
Page 63 - I'll creep into his bosom, lay me there ; Cover us close — or I shall chill his breast, And fright him from my arms — See, see, ,he slides Still...
Page 41 - O'smyn's interest, Who, at the place of execution, will Attempt to force his way for an escape ; The state of things will countenance all suspicions. Then offer to the king, to have him strangled In secret, by your mutes; and get an order, That none but mutes may have admittance to him.
Page 7 - Is entering now, in martial pomp, the palace. Five hundred mules precede his solemn march, Which groan beneath the weight of Moorish wealth. Chariots of war...
Page 5 - Which are diffused through the revolving year, Come, heavy-laden with the oppressing weight, To me ; with me, successively, they leave The sighs, the tears, the groans, the restless cares, And all the damps of grief, that did retard their flight; They shake their downy wings, and scatter all The dire collected dews on my poor head ; Then fly with joy and swiftness from me.
Page 26 - I'll be reveng'd. SCENE X. ZARA, OSMYN, SELIM, the KING, PEREZ, and Attendants. King. Why does the fairest of her Kind withdraw Her Shining from the Day, to gild this Scene Of Death and Night ? Ha ! what Disorder's this ? Somewhat I heard of King and Rival mention'd.
Page 4 - I'll tell thee. I was a welcome captive in Valentia, E'en on the day when Manuel, my father, Led on his conqu'ring troops high as the gates Of king Anselmo's palace ; which, in rage, And heat of war, and dire revenge, he fir'd.
Page 25 - That to have loved thee makes me yet more lost, Than all the malice of my other fate. Traitor ! monster ! cold and perfidious slave ! A slave, not daring to be free...
Page 27 - Give me more weight, crush my declining years With bolts, with chains, imprisonment, and want; But bless my son, visit not him for me.

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