The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher Volume 5

Released on by Francis Beaumont
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  • The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher Volume 5 Book Detail

  • Author : Francis Beaumont
  • Release Date : 2013-09
  • Publisher : Theclassics.Us
  • Genre :
  • Pages : 126
  • ISBN 13 : 9781230362403
  • File Size : 79,79 MB
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The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher Volume 5 by Francis Beaumont PDF Summary

Book Description: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1907 edition. Excerpt: ...For I am Neptune. Mast. Now what think ye of him? 2 Gent. Alas poor man. Schol. Your Bark shall plough through all, And not a Surge so saucy to disturb her. I'le see her safe, my power shall sail before her. Down ye angry waters all, Ye loud whistling whirlewinds fall; Down ye proud Waves, ye storms cease; / command ye, be at peace. Fright not with your churlish Notes, Nor bruise the Keel of Bark that flotes: No devouring Fish come nigh, Nor Monster in my Empery, Once shew his head, or terror bring; But let the weary Saylor sing: Amphitrite with white arms Strike my Lute, Vle sing Charms. Mast. He must have Musick now: I must observe him, His fit will grow too full else. Musick, Song. 2 Gent. I must pity him. Mast. Now he will in himself most quietly, And clean forget all, as he had done nothing. I Gent. We are sorry, Sir: and we have seen a wonder; From this hour we'll believe, and so we'll leave ye. Ex. Ped. This was a strange fit. Mast. Did ye mark him, Sir? Ped. He might have cozen'd me with his behaviour. Mast. Many have sworn him right, and I have thought so: Yet on a sudden, from some word, or other, When no man could expect a fit, he has flown out: I dare not give him will. Enter Alinda. Ped. Pray Heaven recover him. Alin. Must I come in too? Mast. No, my pretty Lad; Keep in thy Chamber Boy; 'shalt have thy supper. Ped. I pray ye what is he, Sir? Mast. A strange Boy, that last night Was found i'th' Town, a little craz'd, distracted, And so sent hither. Ped. How the pretty Knave looks, And plays, and peeps upon me! sure such eyes I have seen, and lov'd: what fair hands! certainly--Mast. Good Sir, you'l make him worse. Ped. I pray believe not. Alas, why should I hurt him? how he smiles! The very shape, and sweetness of Alinda: Let...

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