Dryden's Palamon and Arcite |
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Page 16
... prison pent , If I but change my bonds for banishment ? And banished from her sight , I suffer more In freedom than I felt in bonds before ; Forced from her presence , and condemned to live , Unwelcome freedom , and unthanked reprieve ...
... prison pent , If I but change my bonds for banishment ? And banished from her sight , I suffer more In freedom than I felt in bonds before ; Forced from her presence , and condemned to live , Unwelcome freedom , and unthanked reprieve ...
Page 17
... prison , no ; but blissful paradise ! Thou daily seest that sun of beauty shine , And lov'st at least in love's extremest line . I mourn in absence , love's eternal night ; And who can tell but since thou hast her sight , And art a ...
... prison , no ; but blissful paradise ! Thou daily seest that sun of beauty shine , And lov'st at least in love's extremest line . I mourn in absence , love's eternal night ; And who can tell but since thou hast her sight , And art a ...
Page 18
... prison free , I starve abroad , and lose the sight of Emily . ” Thus Arcite ; but if Arcite thus deplore His sufferings , Palamon yet suffers more . For when he knew his rival freed and gone , He swells with wrath ; he makes outrageous ...
... prison free , I starve abroad , and lose the sight of Emily . ” Thus Arcite ; but if Arcite thus deplore His sufferings , Palamon yet suffers more . For when he knew his rival freed and gone , He swells with wrath ; he makes outrageous ...
Page 19
... prisons , ills without a cure , All these he must , and guiltless oft , endure ; Or does your justice , power , or prescience fail , When the good suffer and the bad prevail ? What worse to wretched virtue could befall , If Fate or ...
... prisons , ills without a cure , All these he must , and guiltless oft , endure ; Or does your justice , power , or prescience fail , When the good suffer and the bad prevail ? What worse to wretched virtue could befall , If Fate or ...
Page 20
... prison mourns , And Arcite forfeits life if he returns ; The banished never hopes his love to see , Nor hopes the captive lord his liberty . ' Tis hard to say who suffers greater pains ; One sees his love , but cannot break his chains ...
... prison mourns , And Arcite forfeits life if he returns ; The banished never hopes his love to see , Nor hopes the captive lord his liberty . ' Tis hard to say who suffers greater pains ; One sees his love , but cannot break his chains ...
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Common terms and phrases
appeared Arcite's arms array astrological Athenian Athens beauty began behold betwixt blood bore born Brearley School breast Cadmus cast charms Chaucer chief conquered conquest couplet courser Creon Cronos crown death decree Diana doom Dryden Duchess of Ormond e'er earth Edited Emelye English eyes fair fame fate fight fire flames Fortune freed Geoffrey Chaucer geomantic figures goddess grace grief grove hand heart heaven Hippolyta honour John Dryden Julius Cæsar Jupiter king Knightes Tale lady length live lord lovers maid Mars Meleager mind mortal mourning never noble o'er Ormond pain Palamon and Arcite Pirithous planets poem poet pointed lance prince prison Professor queen race rest rival royal Saturn sighed slain sorrow soul steed stood story strife sword tears temple Theban Thebes thee Theseus thine thou thought Thrace Venus verses vows wood word wound youth
Popular passages
Page 91 - But enough of this : there is such a variety of game springing up before me, that I am distracted in my choice, and know not which to follow. Tis sufficient to say, according to the proverb, that here is God's plenty.
Page 47 - The balls of his broad eyes rolled in his head, And glared betwixt a yellow and a red; He looked a lion with a gloomy stare, And o'er his eyebrows hung his matted hair; Big-boned and large of limbs, with sinews strong, Broad-shouldered, and his arms were round and long.
Page xvii - Turn'd only to the grove his horse's reins, The grove I named before ; and, lighted there, A woodbine garland sought to crown his hair ; Then turn'd his face against the rising day, And raised his voice to welcome in the May: ' For thee, sweet month, the groves green liveries wear. If not the first, the fairest of the year : For thee the graces lead the dancing hours, And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers : When thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more...
Page 10 - At every turn, she made a little stand, And thrust among the thorns her lily hand To draw the rose, and every rose she drew She shook the stalk, and brush'd away the dew: Then party-colour'd flowers of white and red She wove, to make a garland for her head: This done, she sung and caroll'd out so clear, That men and angels might rejoice to hear: Even wondering Philomel forgot to sing; And learn'd from her to welcome in the spring.
Page 90 - ... he has taken into the compass of his Canterbury Tales the various manners and humors (as we now call them) of the whole English nation in his age. Not a single character has escaped him.
Page 92 - Ilias or the jEneis: the story is more pleasing than either of them, the manners as perfect, the diction as poetical, the learning as deep and various, and the disposition full as artful; only it includes a greater length of time, as taking up seven years at least...
Page 48 - Ruddy his lips, and fresh and fair his hue ; Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen, Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin.
Page 63 - The herald ends ; the vaulted firmament With loud acclaims and vast applause is rent : Heaven guard a prince so gracious and so good, So just, and yet so provident of blood ! This was the general cry. The trumpets sound, And warlike symphony is heard around. The marching troops through Athens take their way, The great earl-marshal orders their array.
Page 48 - Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen, Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin. His awful presence did the crowd surprise, Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes; Eyes that confessed him born for kingly sway, 80 So fierce, they flashed intolerable day.
Page 90 - The verse of Chaucer, I confess, is not harmonious to us; but 'tis like the eloquence of one whom Tacitus commends, it was auribus istius temporis accommodata: they who lived with him, and some time after him, thought it musical; and it continues so, even in our judgment, if compared with the numbers of Lidgate and Gower, his contemporaries: there is the rude sweetness of a Scotch tune in it, which is natural and pleasing, though not perfect.