The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher; A Wife for a Month. the Lovers Progress. the Pilgrim. the Captain. the Prophetess

The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher; A Wife for a Month. the Lovers Progress. the Pilgrim. the Captain. the Prophetess

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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1907 edition. Excerpt: ...You have conceiv'd from any friend or parent? Or scorn from what ye lov'd? Schol. No, truely Sir: I never yet was master of a faith So poor, and weak, to doubt my friend or kindred, And what love is, unless it lie in learning I think I am ignorant. 1 Gent. This man is perfedt, A civiller discourser I ne'r talk'd with. Mast. You'l find it otherwise. 2 Gent. I must tell ye true, Sir, I think ye keep him here to teach him madness. Here's his discharge from my Lord Cardinal; And come Sir, go with us. Schol. I am bound unto ye, And farewel Master. Master. Farewel Stephano, Alas poor man. 1 Gent. What flaws, and whirles of weather, Or rather storms have been aloft these three daies; How dark, and hot, and full of mutiny! And still grows louder. Mast. It has been stubborn weather. 2 Gent. Strange work at Sea, I fear me there's old tumbling. 1 Gent. Bless my old Unkles Bark, I have a venture. 2 Gent. And I more than I would wish to lose. Schol. Do you fear? 2 Gent. Ha! how he looks! Mast. Nay, mark him better Gentlemen. 2 Gent. Mercy upon me: how his eyes are altered! Mast. Now tell me how ye like him: whether now He be that perfedt man ye credited? B.-F. V. N 193 Schol. Do's the Sea stagger ye? Mast. Now ye have hit the nick. Schol. Do ye fear the billows? 1 Gent. What ails him? who has stir'd him? Schol. Be not shaken, Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through ye, Let it blow on, blow on: let the clouds wrastle, And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous, The Sea in hideous mountains rise and tumble Upon a Dolphins back, I'le make all tremble, For I am Neptune. Mast. Now what think ye of him? 2 Gent. Alas poor man. Schol. Your Bark shall plough through all, And not a Surge so saucy to disturb her. I'le see her safe, my power shall sail before...show more

Product details

  • Paperback | 126 pages
  • 189 x 246 x 7mm | 240g
  • Rarebooksclub.com
  • Miami Fl, United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 123668222X
  • 9781236682222