Remorse: A Tragedy, in Five ActsW. Pople, 1813 - 72 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 16
Página 10
... Alhad . My Lord , my husband's name Is Isidore . ( ORDON 10 starts . ) - You may re- member it : Three years ago , three years this very week , You left him at Almeria . Mon. Palpably false ! This very week , three years ago , my lord ...
... Alhad . My Lord , my husband's name Is Isidore . ( ORDON 10 starts . ) - You may re- member it : Three years ago , three years this very week , You left him at Almeria . Mon. Palpably false ! This very week , three years ago , my lord ...
Página 11
... Alhad . Not till my husband's free ! I may not do it . I will stay here . Ter . ( aside . ) Who is this Isidore ? Vald . Daughter ! Ter . With your permission , my dear lord , I'll loiter yet awhile t'enjoy the sea breeze . Exeunt ...
... Alhad . Not till my husband's free ! I may not do it . I will stay here . Ter . ( aside . ) Who is this Isidore ? Vald . Daughter ! Ter . With your permission , my dear lord , I'll loiter yet awhile t'enjoy the sea breeze . Exeunt ...
Página 12
... Alhad . You have no skill to guess my many wrongs , Many and strange ! Besides , ( ironically ) I am a christian , And christians never pardon - ' tis their faith ! Ter . Shame fall on those who so have shown it to thee ! Alhad . I know ...
... Alhad . You have no skill to guess my many wrongs , Many and strange ! Besides , ( ironically ) I am a christian , And christians never pardon - ' tis their faith ! Ter . Shame fall on those who so have shown it to thee ! Alhad . I know ...
Página 13
... Alhad . What was it then to suffer ? " Tis most right That such as you should hear it . - Know you not , What Nature inakes you mourn , she bids you heal ? Great Evils ask great Passions to redress them , And Whirlwinds fitliest scatter ...
... Alhad . What was it then to suffer ? " Tis most right That such as you should hear it . - Know you not , What Nature inakes you mourn , she bids you heal ? Great Evils ask great Passions to redress them , And Whirlwinds fitliest scatter ...
Página 14
... Alhad . A month's imprisonment would kill him , Lady , Ter . Alas , poor man ! Alhad . He hath a lion's courage , Fearless in act , but feeble in endurance ; Unfit for boisterous times , with gentle heart He worships nature in the hill ...
... Alhad . A month's imprisonment would kill him , Lady , Ter . Alas , poor man ! Alhad . He hath a lion's courage , Fearless in act , but feeble in endurance ; Unfit for boisterous times , with gentle heart He worships nature in the hill ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Remorse: A Tragedy, in Five Acts (Classic Reprint) Samuel Taylor Coleridge Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Remorse: A Tragedy, in Five Acts (Classic Reprint) Samuel Taylor Coleridge Sin vista previa disponible - 2017 |
Términos y frases comunes
Alhad ALHADRA Alvar anguish art thou assassin babe bless blood brother Captur'd cavern Chancery Lane chasm coward curse dare dark dead dear death didst dost doth dream dungeon dup'd Enter TERESA Exeunt Exit faint faith fancy father fear feelings fool groan guilt hath hear heard heart heaven husband innocent innocent voice Isid Isidore kill'd lady light listen liv'd live look round Lord Ordonio Lord Valdez lov'd MONVIEDRO moonlight moonshine Moorish Moors Moresco Mountebank murder murder'd Music Naomi ne'er neck night o'er pang pass'd pause portrait pray REMORSE return'd robes S. T. COLERIDGE SCENE scorn scruple seem'd sleep smile son of Valdez soul speak spirit stept strange sweet sword tale tears There's thing thought thro told torch traitor truth Twas Vald villain voice wake wild wildly wizard woman would'st wretched ZULIMEZ
Pasajes populares
Página 62 - THE DUNGEON. And this place our forefathers made for man! This is the process of our love and wisdom, To each poor brother who offends against us — Most innocent, perhaps — and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! Each pore and natural outlet...
Página 2 - Remorse is as the heart in which it grows : If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance ; but if proud and gloomy, It is a poison-tree, that pierced to the inmost Weeps only tears of poison.
Página 62 - With other ministrations thou. O nature! 20 Healest thy wandering and distempered child: Thou pourest on him thy soft influences. Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters, Till he relent, and can no more endure 25 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing, Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way. His angry spirit healed and harmonized By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
Página 34 - Cease thy swift toils ! Since haply thou art one Of that innumerable company Who in broad circle, lovelier than the rainbow, Girdle this round earth in a dizzy motion...
Página 62 - Circled with evil, till his very soul Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed By sights of evermore deformity ! With other ministrations thou, 0 Nature, Healest thy wandering and distempered child : Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters ! Till he relent, and can no...
Página 26 - Time, as he courses onwards, still unrolls The volume of Concealment. In the Future, As in the optician's glassy cylinder, The indistinguishable blots and colours Of the dim Past collect and shape themselves, Upstarting in their own completed image To scare or to reward.
Página 63 - With other ministrations thou, O Nature ! Healest thy wandering and distempered child : Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets ; Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters ! Till he relent, and can no more endure To be a jarring and a dissonant thing Amid this general dance and minstrelsy ; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, His angry spirit healed and harmonized By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
Página 62 - Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks — And this is their best cure! uncomforted And friendless solitude, groaning and tears, And savage faces, at the clanking hour Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon, By the lamp's dismal twilight!