text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"SIFFREDI.
'Tis true. But at his Years
Death gives short Notice--Dropping Nature then,
Without a Gust of Pain to shake it, falls.
His Death, my Daughter, was that happy Period
Which few attain. The Duties of his Day
Were all discharg'd, and gratefully enjoy'd
It's noblest Blessings; calm, as Evening Skies,
Was his pure Mind, and lighted up with Hopes
That open Heaven; when, for his last long Sleep
Timely prepar'd, a Lassitude of Life,
A pleasing Weariness of mortal Joy,
Fell on his Soul, and down he sunk to Rest.
O may my Death be such!--He but one Wish
Left unfulfill'd, which was to see Count Tancred
(I.ii, 13-26)",2013-06-28 14:30:17 UTC,"""The Duties of his Day / Were all discharg'd, and gratefully enjoy'd / It's noblest Blessings; calm, as Evening Skies, / Was his pure Mind, and lighted up with Hopes / That open Heaven; when, for his last long Sleep / Timely prepar'd, a Lassitude of Life, / A pleasing Weariness of mortal Joy, / Fell on his Soul, and down he sunk to Rest.""",2013-06-28 14:30:17 UTC,"Act I, scene ii","",,"","",C-H Lion,21238,7490
"SIFFREDI.
Ah, my Tancred,
Nothing so easy as in Speculation,
And at a distance seen, the Course of Honour,
A fair delightful Champian strew'd with Flowers.
But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions,
Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw
Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens:
Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise,
Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd:
Then Toil ensues, and Perseverance stern;
And endless Combats with our grosser Sense,
Oft lost, and oft renew'd; and generous Pain
For others felt; and, harder Lesson still!
Our honest Bliss for others sacrific'd;
And all the rugged Task of Virtue quails
The stoutest Heart of common Resolution.
Few get above this turbid Scene of Strife,
Few gain the Summit, breathe that purest Air,
That heavenly Ether, which untroubled sees
The Storm of Vice and Passion rage below.
(I.iv, ll. 162-182)",2013-06-28 14:32:54 UTC,"""Few get above this turbid Scene of Strife, / Few gain the Summit, breathe that purest Air, / That heavenly Ether, which untroubled sees / The Storm of Vice and Passion rage below.""",2013-06-28 14:32:54 UTC,"Act I, scene iv","",,"","",C-H Lion,21240,7490
"SIFFREDI.
My Liege,
Expect not This--Tho' practis'd long in Courts,
I have not so far learn'd their subtle Trade,
To veer obedient with each Gust of Passion.
I honour Thee, I venerate thy Orders,
But honour more my Duty. Nought on Earth
Shall ever shake me from that solid Rock,
Nor Smiles nor Frowns.--
(II.viii)",2013-06-28 14:39:49 UTC,"""Tho' practis'd long in Courts, / I have not so far learn'd their subtle Trade, / To veer obedient with each Gust of Passion.""",2013-06-28 14:39:49 UTC,"Act II, scene viii","",,"","",C-H Lion,21245,7490
"TANCRED.
O He advis'd it!
These many Years he has in secret hatch'd
This black Contrivance, glories in the Scheme,
And proudly plumes him with his traiterous Virtue.
But that was nought, Rodolpho, nothing, nothing!
O that was gentle, blameless to what follow'd!
I had, my Friend, to Sigismunda given,
To hush her Fears, in the full Gush of Fondness,
A Blank sign'd by my Hand--and he--O Heavens!
Was ever such a wild Attempt!--he wrote
Beneath my Name an absolute Compliance
To this detested Will; nay, dar'd to read it
Before my self, on my insulted Throne
His idle Pageant plac'd--Oh! Words are weak,
To paint the Pangs, the Rage, the Indignation;
That whirl'd from Thought to Thought my Soul in Tempest,
Now on the Point to burst, and now by Shame
Repress'd--But in the Face of Sicily,
All mad with Acclamation, what, Rodolpho,
What could I do? The sole Relief that rose
To my distracted Mind, was to adjourn
Th' Assembly till To-morrow--But To-morrow
What can be done?--O it avails not what!
I care not what is done--My only Care
Is how to clear my Faith to Sigismunda.
She thinks me false! She cast a Look that kill'd me!
O I am base in Sigismunda's Eye!
The lowest of Mankind, the most perfidious!
(II.ix)",2013-06-28 14:41:30 UTC,"""Oh! Words are weak, / To paint the Pangs, the Rage, the Indignation; / That whirl'd from Thought to Thought my Soul in Tempest, / Now on the Point to burst, and now by Shame / Repress'd.""",2013-06-28 14:41:30 UTC,"Act II, scene ix","",,"","",C-H Lion,21246,7490
"TANCRED.
Heavens! Submission!
Could I descend to bear it, even in Thought,
Despise me, you, the World, and Sigismunda!
Submission!--No!--To-morrow's glorious Light
Shall flash Discovery on this Scene of Baseness.
Whatever be the Risque, by Heavens! To-morrow,
I will o'erturn the dirty Lye-built Schemes
Of these old Men, and shew my faithful Senate,
That Manfred's Son knows to assert and wear,
With undiminish'd Dignity, that Crown
This unexpected Day has plac'd upon him.
But This, my Friend, these stormy Gusts of Pride
Are foreign to my Love--Till Sigismunda
Be disabus'd, my Breast is Tumult all,
And can obey no settled Course of Reason.
I see Her still, I feel her powerful Image!
That Look, where with Reproach Complaint was mix'd,
Big with soft Woe and gentle Indignation,
Which seem'd at once to pity and to scorn me--
O let me find Her! I too long have left
My Sigismunda to converse with Tears,
A Prey to Thoughts that picture me a Villain.
But ah! how, clogg'd with this accursed State,
A tedious World, shall I now find Access?
Her Father too--Ten Thousand Horrors croud
Into the wild fantastic Eye of Love--
Who knows what he may do? Come then, my Friend,
And by thy Sister's Hand O let me steal
A Letter to her Bosom--I no longer
Can bear her Absence, by the just Contempt
She now must brand me with, inflam'd to Madness,
Fly, my Rodolpho, fly! engage thy Sister
To aid my Letter, and this very Evening
Secure an Interview--I would not bear
This Rack another Day not for my Kingdom!
Till then deep-plung'd in Solitude and Shades,
I will not see the hated Face of Man.
Thought drives on Thought, on Passions Passions roll;
Her Smiles alone can calm my raging Soul.
(II.ix)",2013-06-28 14:43:26 UTC,"""But This, my Friend, these stormy Gusts of Pride / Are foreign to my Love--Till Sigismunda / Be disabus'd, my Breast is Tumult all, / And can obey no settled Course of Reason. / I see Her still, I feel her powerful Image!""",2013-06-28 14:43:26 UTC,"Act II, scene ix","",,"","",C-H Lion,21247,7490
"SIFFREDI.
Lord Constable,
Let us be stedfast in the Right; but let us
Act with cool Prudence, and with manly Temper,
As well as manly Firmness. True, I own,
Th' Indignities you suffer are so high,
As might even justify what now you threaten.
But if, my Lord, we can prevent the Woes
The cruel Horrors of intestine War,
Yet hold untouch'd our Liberties and Laws;
O let us, rais'd above the turbid Sphere
Of little selfish Passions, nobly do it!
Nor to our hot intemperate Pride pour out
A dire Libation of Sicilian Blood.
'Tis Godlike Magnanimity, to keep,
When most provok'd, our Reason calm and clear,
And execute her Will, from a strong Sense
Of what is right, without the vulgar Aid
Of Heat and Passion, which, tho' honest, bear us
Often too far. Remember that my House
Protects my Daughter still; and ere I saw her
Thus ravish'd from us, by the Arm of Power,
This Hand should act the Roman Father's Part.
Fear not; be temperate; all will yet be well.
I know the King. At first his Passions burst
Quick as the Lightning's Flash: but in his Breast
Honour and Justice dwell--Trust me, to Reason
He will return.
(IV.v)",2013-06-28 14:53:39 UTC,"""At first his Passions burst / Quick as the Lightning's Flash: but in his Breast / Honour and Justice dwell--Trust me, to Reason / He will return.""",2013-06-28 14:53:39 UTC,"Act IV, scene v","",,Inhabitants,"",C-H Lion,21254,7490
"2nd COURTIER
Well, it's a terrible Thing to be lost in the Dark.
4th COURTIER
It is. And yet it's so common a Case, that one would not think it should be at all so. Why we are all of us lost in the Dark every Day of our Lives. Knaves keep us in the Dark by their Cunning, and Fools by their Ignorance. Divines lose us in dark Mysteries; Lawyers in dark Cases; and Statesmen in dark Intrigues: Nay, the Light of Reason, which we so much boast of, what is it but a Dark-Lanthorn, which just serves to keep us from running our Nose against a Post, perhaps; but is no more able to lead us out of the dark Mists of Error and Ignorance, in which we are lost, than an Ignis fatuus would be to conduct us out of this Wood?
(pp. 10-1)",2013-08-19 20:12:16 UTC,"""Nay, the Light of Reason, which we so much boast of, what is it but a Dark-Lanthorn, which just serves to keep us from running our Nose against a Post, perhaps; but is no more able to lead us out of the dark Mists of Error and Ignorance, in which we are lost, than an Ignis fatuus would be to conduct us out of this Wood?""",2013-08-19 20:12:16 UTC,"","",,"","",LION,22462,7634
"Athelwold.
Tortures and Fire!
Shalt thou inflame me thus,--Unseat my Soul;
Tear out wrong'd Patience from my bleeding Heart,
And work me into Tempest! Then grow cool,
And, insolently mild, with Stoick Tameness,
Hope,--thou coud'st stop me, in the steepest Fall
Of my whole hurried Vengeance.--No,--if thou wait'st
New Provocation, it attends thy Call;
This will enrage thee, to renew thy Rashness;
[Strikes him.]
And meet the Death I mean thee.
(p. 39)",2013-08-21 05:32:15 UTC,"""Shalt thou inflame me thus,--Unseat my Soul; / Tear out wrong'd Patience from my bleeding Heart, / And work me into Tempest!""",2013-08-21 05:32:15 UTC,"","",,"","",ECCO-TCP,22522,7640
"Athelwold.
If it must be,
Spare me a Moment's Pause--'Twill soon be past,
And Death will want to Time to sate his Purpose.
--What shall I do?--To trust him with my Softness,
To tell him what, at my Request, the King
Was won to grant him, were to seem afraid,
And shrink from his Revenge.--O fatal Chain
Of long depending Woes, that Guilt is bound to!
Conflicting Passions blast the bad Man's Hopes,
And all his Thoughts are Whirlwind!--
(p. 68)",2013-08-21 05:42:25 UTC,"""Conflicting Passions blast the bad Man's Hopes, / And all his Thoughts are Whirlwind!""",2013-08-21 05:42:25 UTC,"","",,"","",ECCO-TCP,22532,7640
"ZAPHIRA.
[Rising.
Ah!—say'st thou, OTHMAN?
Thy Words have shot like Lightning through my Frame;
And all my Soul's on Fire!—Thou faithful Friend!
Yes; with more gentle Speech I'll sooth his Pride;
Regain my Freedom; seek my Father's Tents;
There paint my countless Woes. His kindling Rage
Shall wake the Vallies into honest Vengeance:
The sudden Storm shall pour on BARBAROSSA;
And ev'ry glowing Warrior steep his Shaft
In deadlier Poison, to revenge my Wrongs.
(p. 24)",2014-03-12 17:34:38 UTC,"""Thy Words have shot like Lightning through my Frame; / And all my Soul's on Fire!""",2014-03-12 17:34:38 UTC,"","",,"","",ECCO-TCP,23648,7841