text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"TREMILIA
Stand by ye Fools--That noble Theam's my share,
Farce is a Strain too low to court the Fair;
When to that pitch your Thoughts attempt to fly,
Like unskill'd Icarus you soar too high;
We beg the Favours by the fair Sex giv'n,
With solemn awe as we petition Heav'n.
To please them was the Poet's greatest Care,
He thinks in this Play, nothing can appear,
Rude, or obscene to grate the nicest Ear.
My Character, he hopes, will chiefly move;
The greatness of my Mind, you must approve,
Tho' few this aiery Age the Dress may love;
And since the Poet wou'd good Manners show,
He has made me conformable to you;
In short--A Word's the Moral of the Play,
Appearance does not always get the Day;
Fine Airs, and Graces may some Conquests gain,
Yet still without 'em we shou'd not complain,
Since they are Trifles, which the Wise disd an.
Love is not always in the Pow'r of Dress,
Tho' we want Fortune, or the finest Face,
And all those fading Charms our Sex surround,
Where Virtue shines, a Lover may be found.
",2013-06-18 14:22:00 UTC,"""Stand by ye Fools--That noble Theam's my share,/ Farce is a Strain too low to court the Fair; / When to that pitch your Thoughts attempt to fly, / Like unskill'd Icarus you soar too high.""",2004-11-10 00:00:00 UTC,Back Matter,"",,"","",HDIS (Drama),10348,3983
"Enter King.
Some dreadful Birth of Fate is near:
Or why, my Soul, unus'd to fear
With secret Horror dost thou shake?
Can Dreams such dire Impressions make!
What means this solemn silent Show?
This Pomp of Death, this Scene of Woe!
Support me, Heav'n! What's this I read?
O Horror! Rosamond is dead.
What shall I say, or whither turn?
With Grief, and Rage, and Love, I burn:
From Thought to Thought my Soul is toss'd,
And in the Whirle of Passion lost.
Why did I not in Battle fall,
Crush'd with the Thunder of the Gauls
Why did the Spear my Bosom miss;
Ye Pow'rs, was I reserv'd for this!
Disracted with Woe
I'll rush on the Foe
To seek my Relief:
The Sword or the Dart
Shall pierce my sad Heart,
And finish my Grief!
(III.i, p. 31)",2013-06-12 13:53:56 UTC,"""What shall I say, or whither turn? / With Grief, and Rage, and Love, I burn: From Thought to Thought my Soul is toss'd, / And in the Whirle of Passion lost.""",2013-06-12 13:53:56 UTC,"Act III, Scene i","",,"","",Searching in Google Books,20545,7410
"WILSON
So! 'Tis like her Humour: too unsteady for any thing that's serious---But I need not despair---A Weathercock that's always moving, touches at every point in it's turn; and an excess of Noise and Gayity may soon surfeit her Genius, and make her loath 'em.
The brisk, gay Nymph with Pleasure gluts her Tast,
Too eager, and too hurrying to last;
Thro' Heat of Youth, her Fancy vainly roves,
And she acts just as every Whimsy moves;
'Till tir'd at length with a too Aiery Life;
Love settles her, and makes a prudent Wife.
(III.iv, p. 37)",2013-06-18 14:42:43 UTC,"""Thro' Heat of Youth, her Fancy vainly roves, / And she acts just as every Whimsy moves.""",2013-06-18 14:42:34 UTC,"Act III, Scene iv","",,"","",Searching in C-H Lion,20932,3983
"ARPASIA.
My Heart beats higher, and my nimble Spirits
Ride swiftly thro' their purple Channels round:
'Tis the last blaze of Life: Nature revives
Like a dim, winking Lamp, that flashes brightly
With parting Light, and strait is dark for ever.
And see! my last of Sorrows is at hand:
Death and Moneses come together to me;
As if my Stars that had so long been cruel,
Grew kind at last, and gave me all I wish.
(V.i, p. 64)",2013-07-17 04:16:26 UTC,"""My Heart beats higher, and my nimble Spirits / Ride swiftly thro' their purple Channels round: / 'Tis the last blaze of Life: Nature revives / Like a dim, winking Lamp, that flashes brightly / With parting Light, and strait is dark for ever.""",2013-07-17 04:16:26 UTC,"Act V, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,21856,7548
"HORATIO.
[...]
The lost indeed! for thou art gone as far
As there can be Perdition. Fire and Sulphur,
Hell is the sole Avenger of such Crimes.
Oh that the Ruin were but all thy own!
Thou wilt ev'n make thy Father curse his Age,
At sight of this black Scrowl, the gentle Altamont,
(For oh! I know his Heart is set upon thee)
Shall droop and hang his discontented Head,
Like Merit scorn'd by insolent Authority,
And never grace the Publick with his Virtues.--
Perhaps ev'n now he gazes fondly on her,
And thinking Soul and Body both alike,
Blesses the perfect Workmanship of Heav'n;
Then sighing to his ev'ry Care, speaks Peace,
And bids his Heart be satisfy'd with Happiness.
Oh wretched Husband! while she hangs about thee
With idle Blandishments, and plays the fond one,
Ev'n then her hot Imagination wanders,
Contriving Riot, and loose scapes of Love;
And while she clasps thee close makes thee a Monster.
What if I give this Paper to her Father?
I follows that his Justice dooms her dead,
And breaks his Heart with Sorrow; hard Return,
For all the Good his Hand has heap'd on us:
Hold, let me take a Moment's Thought.
(I.i, pp. 9-10)",2013-07-18 21:20:00 UTC,"""Oh wretched Husband! while she hangs about thee / With idle Blandishments, and plays the fond one, / Ev'n then her hot Imagination wanders, / Contriving Riot, and loose scapes of Love.""",2013-07-18 21:20:00 UTC,"Act I, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,21863,7550
"LUCILLA.
Trust not to that;
Rage is the shortest Passion of our Souls,
Like narrow Brooks that rise with sudden Show'rs,
It swells in haste, and falls again as soon;
Still as it ebbs the softer Thoughts flow in,
And the Deceiver Love supplies its place.
(II.i, p. 14)",2013-07-18 21:25:46 UTC,"""Trust not to that; / Rage is the shortest Passion of our Souls, / Like narrow Brooks that rise with sudden Show'rs, / It swells in haste, and falls again as soon; / Still as it ebbs the softer Thoughts flow in, / And the Deceiver Love supplies its place.""",2013-07-18 21:25:46 UTC,"Act II, scene i",Stream of Consciousness,,"","",C-H Lion,21867,7550
"ALTAMONT.
I thought that nothing cou'd have stay'd my Soul,
That long e'er this her Flight had reach'd the Stars;
But thy known Voice has lur'd her back again.
Methinks I fain wou'd set all right with thee,
Make up this most unlucky Breach, and then,
With thine, and Heav'n's Forgiveness on my Soul,
Shrink to my Grave, and be at ease for ever.
(IV.i, p. 50-1)",2013-07-18 21:43:45 UTC,"""I thought that nothing cou'd have stay'd my Soul, / That long e'er this her Flight had reach'd the Stars; / But thy known Voice has lur'd her back again.""",2013-07-18 21:43:45 UTC,"Act IV, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,21880,7550
"MAGAS.
With deepest foresight, wisely has she laid
A sure foundation of the future greatness
Of Artaban, her only darling Son.
Each busie thought, that rouls within her breast,
Labours for him; the King, when first he sicken'd,
Declar'd he should succeed him in the Throne.
(I.i, p. 4)",2013-07-21 19:14:51 UTC,"""Each busie thought, that rouls within her breast, / Labours for him; the King, when first he sicken'd, / Declar'd he should succeed him in the Throne.""",2013-07-21 19:14:51 UTC,"Act I, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,21943,7553
"CLEONE.
I envy not her happiness;
Tho sure few of our Sex are blest like her
In such a Godlike Lord.
Would I had been a man!
With honour then I might have sought his friendship!
Perhaps from long experience of my faith,
He might have lov'd me better than the rest.
Amidst the dangers of the horrid War,
Still had I been the nearest to his side;
In Courts and Triumphs still had shar'd his joys,
Or when the sportful Chace had call'd us forth,
Together had we cheer'd our foaming Steeds,
Together prest the Savage o're the plain.
And when o're labour'd with the pleasing toil,
Stretcht on the verdant soil had slept together.
But whither does my roving fancy wander?
These are the sick dreams of fantastick Love.
So in a Calenture, the Sea man fancies
Green Fields and Flowry Meadows on the Ocean,
Till leaping in, the wretch is lost for ever.
(III.i, pp. 26-7)",2013-07-22 04:12:58 UTC,"""But whither does my roving fancy wander?""",2013-07-22 04:12:58 UTC,"Act III, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,21959,7553
"OSWALD.
'Tis wonderful indeed; and yet great Souls,
By Nature half divine, soar to the Stars,
And hold a near Acquaintance with the Gods.
And oh, my Prince, when I survey thy Virtue,
I own the Seal of Heav'n imprinted on thee;
I stand convinc'd that good and holy Powers
Inspire and take Delight to dwell within thee.
Yet Crowds will still believe, and Priests will teach,
As wand'ring Fancy, and as Int'rest leads.
How will the King and our fierce Saxon Chiefs
Approve this Bride and Faith? Had Royal Hengist,
Thy Father, liv'd!--
(I.i, pp. 2-3)",2013-07-25 03:12:15 UTC,"""'Tis wonderful indeed; and yet great Souls, / By Nature half divine, soar to the Stars, / And hold a near Acquaintance with the Gods.""",2013-07-25 03:12:15 UTC,"Act I, scene i","",,"","",C-H Lion,22003,7565