Dramatic Technique

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Houghton Mifflin, 1919 - Drama - 531 pages

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Page 56 - Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. She leaned far out on the window-sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. ' Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag,' she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word; ' Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog ! March on !
Page 199 - I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country...
Page 55 - In her attic-window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced : the old flag met his sight.
Page 141 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Page 141 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Page 35 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Page 367 - Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not Chaos is come again.
Page 267 - To be more prince) as may be. — You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me ! Methinks, nobody should be sad but I : Yet, I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonness.
Page 33 - Ah, Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damned perpetually! Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
Page 271 - For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! Nay, hear me, Hubert: drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly. Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.

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