Arden of Feversham

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Ronald Bayne
Dent, 1897 - Arden of Feversham - 113 pages

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Page 56 - I viewed thee not till now ; Thou art not kind, till now I knew thee not ; And now the rain hath beaten off thy gilt, Thy worthless copper shows thee counterfeit. It grieves me not to see how foul thou art, But mads me that ever I thought thee fair.
Page 93 - Shakebag. And there's for the ten pound in my sleeve. [Stabs him. Alice. What ! groans thou ? nay, then give me the weapon ! Take this for hindering Mosbie's love and mine. [She stabs him.
Page 98 - Until to-morrow, sweet Alice, now farewell: And see you confess nothing in any case. Greene. Be resolute, Mistress Alice, betray us not, But cleave to us as we will stick to you.
Page 76 - ... tell me how you like my new device : Soon, when my husband is returning back, « You and I both marching arm in arm, Like loving friends, we'll meet him on the way, And boldly beard and brave him to his teeth. When words grow hot and blows begin to rise...
Page 37 - I cannot paint my valour out with words : But, give me place and opportunity, Such mercy as the starven lioness, When she is dry sucked of her eager young, Shows to the prey that next encounters her, On Arden so much pity would I take.
Page 78 - ... pilot quaking at the doubtful storm, And all the sailors praying on their knees, Even in that fearful time would I fall down, And ask of God, whate'er betide of me, Vengeance on Arden or some misevent To show the world what wrong the carle hath done.
Page 52 - My golden time was when I had no gold; Though then I wanted, yet I slept secure; My daily toil begat me night's repose, My night's repose made daylight fresh to me.
Page 27 - The one I know not, but he seems a knave, Chiefly for bearing the other company; For such a slave, so vile a rogue as he, Lives not again upon the earth. Black Will is his name. I tell you, Master Greene, At Boulogne he and I were fellow soldiers, Where he played such pranks As all the camp feared him for his villainy.
Page 14 - Arden. So, sirrah; you may not wear a sword, The statute makes against artificers ; I warrant that I do. Now use your bodkin, Your Spanish needle, and your pressing iron, For this shall go with me...
Page 47 - And let me never draw a sword again, Nor prosper in the twilight, cockshut light, When I would fleece the wealthy passenger, But lie and languish in a loathsome den, Hated and spit at by the goers-by...

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