Arden of Feversham

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Ronald Bayne
J.M. Dent and Company, 1897 - 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 44 - I see them with their bolstered hair, Staring and grinning in thy gentle face, And in their ruthless hands their daggers drawn, Insulting o'er thee with a peck of oaths, Whilst thou submissive, pleading for relief, Art mangled by their ireful instruments ! Methinks I hear them ask where Michael is, And pitiless Black Will cries : ' Stab the slave, The peasant will detect the tragedy ! ' The wrinkles in his foul death-threatening face Gape open wide like graves to swallow men.
Page 54 - Such deep pathaires, like to a cannon's burst Discharged against a ruinated wall, Breaks my relenting heart in thousand pieces. Ungentle Alice, thy sorrow is my sore ; Thou know'st it well, and 'tis thy policy To forge distressful looks to wound a breast Where lies a heart which dies when thou art sad.
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 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 56 - I will do penance for offending thee, And burn this prayer-book, where I here use The holy word that had converted me. See, Mosbie, I will tear away the leaves, And all the leaves, and in this golden cover Shall thy sweet phrases and thy letters dwell, And thereon will I chiefly meditate, And hold no other sect, but such devotion.
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...
Page 99 - How now, Master Mayor, have you brought my husband home? Mayor. I saw him come into your house an hour ago. Alice. You are deceived ; it was a Londoner. Mayor. Mistress Arden, know you not one that is called Black Will? Alice. I know none such : what mean these questions ? Mayor. I have the Council's warrant to apprehend him. Alice.
Page 85 - Will. Nay, and there be such cheer, we will bid ourselves. — Mistress Arden, Dick Greene and I do mean to sup with you. Alice. And welcome shall you be. Ah, gentlemen, How missed you of your purpose yesternight ? Greene.

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