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arms art thou behold Belvidera bless bless'd blood bosom brave breast charms Christian Constantia cruel curs'd dagger dare daughter dear death distraćted dreadful e'er Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faith faithless false fate father fear fix’d fortune give guard hand happy hate hear heart Heaven honour hope I’ve Jaffier Jaſ king Laura little Nicky lord lov’d Lusignan Madam Nacky ne'er Nerestan never night noble o'er Oras Orasmin Osman Osmond passion peace Pier Pierre pity poison'd pow'r pride prince rage revenge Rodolpho SCENE scorn senate seraglio shame shew Sicily Siffredi Sigismunda Siſ slave soft sorrows soul swear Tancred tears tell tender thee thine THOMAS OTWAY thou art thou hast thought throne traitor trembling truth twill tyrant unhappy Venice vile villain virtue vows wilt wish woes wretch Zara
Page 109 - Then hear me, bounteous Heaven ! Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head, Where everlasting sweets are always springing, With a continual giving hand: let peace, Honour, and safety, always hover round her: Feed her with plenty, let her eyes ne'er see A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning: Crown all her days with joy...
Page 23 - The bitterness her tender spirit tastes of, I own myself a coward : bear my weakness, If, throwing thus my arms about thy neck, I play the boy, and blubber in thy bosom : Oh ! I shall drown thee with my sorrows. Pier. Burn, First burn and level Venice to thy ruin ! What ! starve like beggars...
Page 79 - Your fears won't let you, nor the longing itch To hear a story which you dread the truth of: Truth, which the fear of smart, shall ne'er get from me. Cowards are scar'd with threat'nings ; boys are whipt Into confessions : but a steady mind Acts of itself, ne'er asks the body counsel. Give him the tortures...
Page 14 - I received you, Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits : My house, my table, nay my fortune too, My very self, was yours; you might have used me To your best service.
Page 83 - Adriatic, plough' d Like a lewd whore by bolder prows than yours, Stepp'd not I forth, and taught your loose Venetians, The task of honour and the way to greatness...
Page 86 - I have not wrong'd thee, by these tears I have not. But still am honest, true, and hope too, valiant: My mind still full of thee, therefore still noble; Let not thy eyes then shun me, nor thy heart Detest me utterly; oh, look upon me, Look back and see my sad sincere submission ! How my heart swells, as even 'twould burst my bosom; Fond of its gaol, and labouring to be at thee ! What shall I do ? what say to make thee hear me ? Pierr.
Page 26 - ... woman ! lovely woman ! Nature made thee To temper man : we had been brutes without you ; Angels are painted fair, to look like you : There's in you all that we believe of Heaven, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Page 33 - And bitterest disquiet wring his heart! Oh, let him live till life become his burden; Let him groan under't long, linger an age In the worst agonies and pangs of death, And find its ease but late!
Page 87 - No, this vile world and I have long been jangling, And cannot part on better terms than now, When only men like thee are fit to live in't.
Page 16 - There's not a wretch that lives on common charity But's happier than me: for I have known The luscious sweets of plenty; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never waked but to a joyful morning ; Yet now must fall like a full ear of corn, Whose blossom scaped, yet's withered in the ripening.