The Works of Sir George Etheredge: Plays and Poems

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J. C. Nimmo, 1888 - 408 pages

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Page 371 - I am always pleased with that particular time of the year which is proper for the pickling of dill and cucumbers ; but, alas, this cry, like the song of the nightingale, is not heard above two months. It would, therefore, be worth while, to consider whether the same air might not in some cases be adapted to other words.
Page 104 - Ladies, though to your conquering eyes Love owes his chiefest victories, And borrows those bright arms from you With which he does the world subdue, Yet you! yourselves are not above The empire nor the griefs of love. Then wrack not lovers with disdain, Lest Love on you revenge their pain.
Page 137 - From one playhouse to the other playhouse, and if they like neither the play nor the women, they seldom stay any longer than the combing of their periwigs, or a whisper or two with a friend — and then they cock their caps and out they strut again!
Page 294 - Tis good to have an universal taste; we should love wit, but for variety be able to divert ourselves with the extravagancies of those who want it.
Page 304 - She's handsome, very handsome! by God she is!" and whispered aloud your name; the thousand several forms you put your face into; then, to make yourself more agreeable, how wantonly you played with your head, flung back your locks, and looked smilingly over your shoulder at "em! HAH. I do not go begging the men's, as you do the ladies...
Page 223 - How long I shall love him, I can no more tell, Than, had I a fever, when I should be well. My passion shall kill me before I will show it, And yet I would give all the world he did know it : But oh, how I sigh when I think, should he woo me, I cannot deny what I know would undo me ! Ether ege.
Page 321 - twas to have a settled ague yet, but now and then have had irregular fits. HAH. Take heed! sickness after long health is commonly more violent and dangerous. DOR. (aside) I have took the infection from her, and feel the disease now spreading in me.
Page 381 - To avoid th' enchanting pain ; Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks, Fierce winds to blossoms prove, To careless seamen, hidden rocks, To human quiet— love. " Fly the fair sex, if bliss you prize — The snake's beneath the flower ; Who ever gazed on beauteous eyes And tasted quiet more ? How faithless is the lovers' joy ! How constant is their care ! The kind with falsehood do destroy, The cruel with despair.
Page 290 - Oh, Jesu! Emil. The town does him a great deal of injury, and I will never believe what it says of a man I do not know again, for his sake.
Page 256 - His head stands for the most part on one side, and his looks are more languishing than a lady's when she lolls at stretch in her coach or leans her head carelessly against the side of a box i* the playhouse.

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