The dramatic works of ... George Granville

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Strana 148 - And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help : Go to, then ; you come to me, and you say Shylock, we would have moneys...
Strana 3 - Thine be the laurel then j thy blooming age Can beft, if any can, fupport the ftage ; Which fo declines, that fhortly we may fee Players and plays reduc'd to fecond infancy. Sharp to the world, but thoughtlefs of renown, They plot not on the ftage, but on the town, And, in defpair their empty pit to fill, Set up fome foreign monfter in a bill. Thus they jog on, ftill tricking, never thriving, And murd'ring plays, which they mifcal reviving. Our fenfe is nonfenfe, thro...
Strana 222 - Blame them who wound, and not your flave who dies: If we may love, then fure we may declare ; If we may not, ah ! why are you fo fair ? Who can unmov'd behold that heavenly face, Thofe radiant eyes, and that rcfiftlcfs grace i OK i AN A.
Strana 209 - What faid I not, upon the fatal night, When you avow'd your meditated flight ? ^Was it your love that prompted you to part, To leave me dying, and to break my heart ? See whom you fled, inhuman and ingrate, Repent your folly, but repent too late.
Strana 231 - Love had been yours, to die had been my part : Thus Fate divides the prize; though Beauty's mine, Yet Fame, our other mistress, is more thine.
Strana 228 - Wrong not my virtue, to fuppofe that I Can grant to love, what duty muft deny ; A father's will is wanting, and my...
Strana 211 - Frefti from her Wound: Pale Horror and Affright Seiz'd the falfe Man, confounded at the Sight, Trembling he gaz'd...
Strana 230 - sa burthen to himfelf and you, Fate and the king all other means deny To fet you free, but that Conftantius die : A Roman arm had play'da...
Strana 211 - Banifh'd from joy, from empire, and from light; In death involve me, and in endlefs night, But keep— that odious objeft— from my fight.
Strana 200 - Friendfhip, efteem, be yours ; bereft before Of all my love, what can I offer more ? Your rival's image in your worth I view, And what I lov'd in him, efteem in you ; Had your complaint been...

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