The Growth of English Drama |
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action actors Adam Aeneas Alphonsus Andrea Angel Apelles audience Balthazar Barabas Bible blank verse Campaspe characters Church comedy crime Cupid Custance Damon and Pythias death Devil dialogue Dido disguised Doctor Faustus doth dramatist Edward Endymion Eumenides Euphuism Everyman fair fall farewell father favour fear Felawshyp Gallathea Gammer Ghost give Gorboduc Greene Greene's grief hand hath heart heaven hell Herod Hick Scorner Hieronimo honour Horatio Humanum Genus humour Interludes Jeronimo Johan king Kyd's later Lord Lorenzo Lucifer Lyly Marlowe Marlowe's Mephistophilis Miracle Play Misfortunes of Arthur Moralities Mordred murder nature never Newfangle Pardoner Peele Peele's Phillida pity plot poetry prince prose Queen Ralph Roister Doister revenge scenes Senecan Shakespeare shepherds Sir Tophas Soliman song soul Spanish Tragedy speech stage story sweet Tamburlaine thee things thou thought tion tragic true unto Vice words writer
Popular passages
Page 226 - Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Wills us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
Page 236 - And long ere this I should have slain myself, Had not sweet pleasure conquer'd deep despair. Have not I made blind Homer sing to me Of Alexander's love and (Enon's death ? And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes With ravishing sound of his melodious harp, Made music with my Mephistophilis ? Why should I die, then, or basely despair ! I am resolv'd ; Faustus shall ne'er repent.
Page 189 - Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king ; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring : Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo...
Page 93 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood : Though I go bare, take ye no care ; I nothing am a-cold : I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old.
Page 130 - At cards for kisses; Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin. All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes. She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas ! become of me?
Page 255 - And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall? — Farewell, fair queen; weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
Page 235 - Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what desperate enterprise I will? I'll have them fly to India for gold, Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely delicates...
Page 242 - Ay, and body too: but what of that? Think'st thou that Faustus is so fond to imagine That, after this life, there is any pain? Tush, these are trifles and mere old wives
Page 247 - Now I remember those old women's words, Who in my wealth * would tell me winter's tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where treasure hath been hid...
Page 238 - Her lips suck forth my soul ; see where it flies ! — Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.