Husband Hunting, Or, The Mother and Daughters: A Tale of Fashionable Life, Volume 2

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Wells and Lilly, 1825
 

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Página 185 - Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.
Página 87 - Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Página 61 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Página 96 - I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light; But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
Página 253 - To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps, Out of my weakness, and my melancholy, (As he is very potent with such spirits,) Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: The play's the thing, Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Página 62 - I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chapfallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
Página 11 - Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! Who builds his hope in air of your...
Página 1 - Prince! I blush to think what I have said, But fate has wrested the confession from me; Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour, Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee, And make the Gods propitious to our love.
Página 19 - Not with the living ; They feed upon opinions, errors, dreams, And make 'em truths ; they draw a nourishment Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces ; And, when they see a virtue fortified Strongly above the battery of their tongues, Oh, how they cast to sink it ! and, defeated, (Soul-sick with poison) strike the monuments Where noble names lie sleeping, till they sweat, And the cold marble melt.
Página 207 - Flatter had sat with his elbow on the table, and his chin resting on his hand, looking at the lady's agitated visage.

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