The Soldier of Fortune ...

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Bentley, 1843
 

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Page 110 - Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and played Some tricks of desperation : All, but mariners, Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me ; the king's sun, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair), Was the first man that leaped ; cried, " Hell is empty, And all the devils are here !
Page 12 - Give me leave. Here lies the water; good : here stands the man ; good : If the man go to this water, and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes ; mark you that? but if the water come lo him, and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he, that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life. 2 Clo. But is this law ? 1 Clo. Ay, marry is't; crowner's-quest law.1 2 Clo. Will you ha
Page 70 - ... whole world) into a new state. The only use I have, shall, or wish to make of it, is to observe the disparity of men from themselves in a week's time; the desultory leaping and catching of new motions, new modes, new measures; and that strange spirit and life, with which men broken and disappointed resume their hopes, their solicitations, their ambitions!
Page 47 - Tarry woo, tarry woo, Tarry woo is ill to spin ; Card it weel, card it weel, Card it weel ere ye begin. When 'tis carded, row'd and spun, Then the work is hafflins done ; But when woven, drest, and clean, It may be cleading for a queen...
Page 49 - We tak' a gude scour o't, and ca't awa. Todlin' hame, todlin' hame, As round as a neep come todlin' hame. My kimmer and I lay down to sleep, Wi' twa pint-stoups at our bed's feet; And aye when we wakened, we drank them dry. What think ye o
Page 26 - I presume: hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary families that ever man of quality matched into. sm TUN. What's become of my Lord, daughter? MISS. He's just coming, Sir. LORD FOP. (aside) "My Lord!
Page 161 - The winter of the year 183- — , was a particularly severe one. The snow in the gardens of Chateau Roussillon was on a level with the hedge, whilst the park and open country around, in many places, also lay enrobed four or five feet deep in the same white garment. Then icicles hung by the wall ; And milk came frozen home in pail ; Then blood was nipped, and ways were foul. And nightly sung the staring owl To-who : Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note, While Greasy Joan did keel the pot.
Page 239 - ... there cools and ne'er returneth To blush and beautify the cheek again. But see, his face is black and full of blood, His eyeballs further out than when he lived, Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretched with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugged for life and was by strength subdued. Look on the sheets, his hair, you see, is sticking ; His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged, Like to the summer's corn by tempest...
Page 57 - To be slaughtered thus like a calf by these butchers, was any thing but pleasant, and I resolved to demur, and resist the application of the knife to my carotid by every means in my power. Four to one was great odds, however. On my legs I could have been content to fight like Macbeth, " till from my bones the flesh was hacked...

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