The Dramatic Works of Baron Kotzebue...

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الصفحة 35 - I'm come about. To be plain with you, Mr. Modish, there is a little affair, which — Mod. A little affair ? Oh ! you sly rogue. What, which must be a secret between you and me ? Well, well, I promise you, Mrs. Squeez'em shan't hear a word of it. And so the little girl is pretty, is she ? Squeez. Lord, sir, 1 can't get you to hear me out ; and I've walked here all the way from St.
الصفحة 68 - tis a cloud which must never be removed ; for, 'tis the gloom of self-reproach '. I have erred, and been forgiven ; but am I therefore less culpable ? — Your indulgence has been great ; but is my fault therefore less enormous ? Oh, no, no, no '. The calm of innocence has for ever left me, the courage of conscious virtue must be mine no more ! Still must the memory of errors past torment; me, and embitter every...
الصفحة 24 - I am unable longer either to maintain or pay you — Frank. I don't want to be paid ! I don't want to be maintained ! I ask but to see you every morning, and be assured you are in health ; I ask but to see my young master grow up the image of his father ; carry him in my arms while he's a child, and when he's a man to die in his...
الصفحة 80 - Take the governor in the midst of you, in the harbonr we will set him free. Load well your guns. Place cannon at the head of our forces, march by them with lighted matches. There shall be no more hostility. No tumult, no shouts of triumph ; nothing to re-animate the rage of the people. Go, 1 follow you. (Conspirator exit.) Benyowsky. Come, dear Athanasia. Athanasia, (hesitating.) Oh! my paternal roof! Benyowsky. Look not on the past.
الصفحة 22 - Zor. Edward! Edward! Oh! where is my father? perhaps now stretched on the bed of sickness, calling on Zorayda for those offices which a daughter alone can perform ; and, woe is me ! calling in vain ! Perhaps — perhaps, ere this, cold in a foreign grave, where his heart has forgot at my name to burn with anger, or to glow with love, where death has long since forbidden his...
الصفحة 3 - Mr. Sheridan, who blocked up my road, mounted on his great tragic war-horse ' Pizarro,' and trampled my humble pad-nag of a Comedy under foot, without the least compunction. My readers must decide whether my Play merited so transient an existence ; it is unnecessary to say that / am quite of the contrary opinion.
الصفحة 9 - I see no harm as yet. Lived with her three years? I wouldn't have lived with her three days — no ! not to have buried her on the fourth.
الصفحة 17 - ... sprung up, and informed me he had now found the place of his birth. Like him intoxicated with delight, I forgot all the fatigues of my journey. We wandered to other parts of the town, and at length reached this square. He espied the palace. Exactly opposite to your house, uttered a loud shriek, threw himself breathless into my arms, and pointed out the habitation of his father's.
الصفحة 42 - In this house did you rob my mother of her honour; and in this house I am a sacrifice for the crime. I am your prisoner — I will not be free — I am a robber — I give myself up. — You shall deliver me into the hands of justice — You shall accompany me to the spot of public execution. You shall hear in vain the chaplain's consolation and injunctions. You shall find how I, in despair, will, to the last moment, call for retribution on my father.
الصفحة 11 - What is the matter? Fred. A bottle of wine — quick, quick! Land. [Surprised.} A bottle of wine! For who? Fred. For me. Why do you ask? Why don't you make haste? Land. Well, well, Mr. Soldier: but can you pay for it? Fred. Here is money — make haste, or I'll break every window in your house. Land. Patience! Patience! [Goes off.

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