Romantic Tales, Volumen 4

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D. N. Shury, 1808

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Página 161 - There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have : And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Página 105 - Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, And fondly broods with miser care ; Time but the impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear.
Página 100 - I've something to say, — Bill Jones is as good as his word. " ' He never leaves me day nor night ! But haunts me, haunts me still ! By the midnight lamp I see the sprite, And when at morn the sky grows light, The first sunbeam shows me Bill. " ' At meals, his pale lips speak the grace, His cold hand gives the wine : At every hour, in every place, To which ever side I turn my face, Bill's eyes are fixed on mine ! " ' Now, lads, my resolution's made, One means will set me free, And Bill's pursuit...
Página 5 - I could distinctly see everything which passed in our neighbour's first and second floor ; and after indulging myself for some days in these observations, I became so well acquainted with every member of this unknown family, that I felt myself as much interested about their proceedings as if I had been a member of it myself. You will say that this systematic espionage was not very honourable : I allow it. But then, on the other hand, it was very entertaining ; and I am now going to bribe you to approve...
Página 57 - ... some well-known handwriting. She has! — she springs towards the letter, seizes it eagerly, and conceals it in her bosom, while a deep crimson overspreads her face. She now opens the other door opposite to that by which the milliner left her; probably it leads to her bed-chamber, which is in the back part of the house; the door closes, and I see Cordelia no longer. What can be the meaning of all this? Surely I know Cordelia too well to ... Is it possible that I should have formed an erroneous...
Página 98 - For a lazy old brute, poor Bill he abused, And forced him aloft to go : But their duty to do his limbs refused, And at length from the ropes his hands Bill loosed, And he fell on the deck below. " Towards him straight the captain flew, Crying ' Dog ! dost serve me so ? ' And with devilish spite his sword he drew, And ran Bill Jones quite through and through, And the blow was a mortal blow.
Página 6 - I have already discovered that he is completely a domestic tyrant: everyone seems to feel constrained in his company: and it is only in the absence of the master of the mansion that innocent mirth ventures to show itself within its doors. Yet still I observe that, with the same unbending gravity with which he censures his wife and rates his servants, he receives every Sunday the visits of a distressed emigrant (with whose worth and whose wants accident has made me well acquainted), to whose complaints...
Página 292 - Bru. Let them enter. [Exit Lucius. They are the faction. O conspiracy ! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free ? O, then, by day, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; Hide it in smiles, and affability : For if thou path, thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention.
Página 36 - In short, he looks to me exactly, as if the terms of peace just proposed had been " an absolute renunciation of the maiden in question, and for ever !" I am certainly right, for at length Edward has recovered the power of speech. He places one hand upon his heart ; he raises the other to heaven with an air of the most determined resolution ; and with every word which he utters his courage and his enthusiasm appear to increase. But he is not suffered to speak long. The tempest again rages ; Sempronius...
Página 92 - ... Edward leads the partner of his heart towards him, does he not fold her to his bosom with all the tenderness of a father ? Oh ! how lovely appears this scene of domestic reconciliation, though acted in an old lumber-room, and only viewed by the unsteady glimmerings of a rushlight and a dark lantern. You may as well lay down your pen, my dear uncle, there is nothing more to be seen, or, if there were, I could not see it, till the tears are wiped away, which have dimmed my telescope. And now, thou...

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