Memoirs of His Own Life, Band 1

author, 1790 - 807 Seiten
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Seite 126 - 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
Seite vii - Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ; • And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy : How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are ? O, think on that ; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Seite 21 - Wit, my Lords, is a sort of property; it is the property of those who have it, and too often the only property they have to depend on. It is indeed but a precarious dependence. Thank God! we, my Lords, have a dependence of another kind...
Seite iii - Volumes. — If I had held my PEN but half as well as I have held my BOTTLE — what a charming hand I should have wrote by this Time.
Seite 195 - I begin (fays he) to look upon myfelf as one already " dead, and defire, my dear Mr. Pope, whom I love as my • *' own foul, if you furvive me, as you certainly will, if a «
Seite 101 - On perceiving the pipe squeak on her right hand, and being conscious of the insult she had then given apparently to me, it struck her comprehension so forcibly that she immediately concluded I had given the retort upon her in that open and audacious manner, to render her acting and tone ridiculous to the audience, as returning contempt for her devilish sneer.
Seite 67 - How I lov'd Witnefs ye days and nights, and all ye hours, That danc'd away with down upon your feet, As all your bus'nefs were to count my paffion. One day paft by and nothing faw but love; Another came and ftill 'twas only love : The funs were weary'd out with looking on And I untir'd with loving. I faw you ev'ry day, and all the day, And ev'ry day was ftill but as the firft, So eager was I ftill to fee you more. Vent. 'Tis all too true. Ant. Fulvia my wife grew jealous, As (he indeed had reafon,...
Seite 117 - ... sank into awful looks of astonishment, both young and old, before and behind the curtain, to see one of the most handsome women of the age, a favourite principal actress, and who had for several seasons given high entertainment, struck so suddenly by the hand of death, in such a situation of time and place, and in her prime of life, being then about forty-four. She was given over that night, and for several days, yet so far recovered as to linger till near the year 1760, but existed as a mere...
Seite 102 - Merit you have none ; charity you deserve not ; for if you did, my purse should give you a dinner. Your impudence to me last night, where you had with such assurance placed yourself, is one proof of your ignorance ; added to that, I heard you echo my voice when I was acting ; and I sincerely hope in whatever barn you are suffered as an unworthy stroller, that you will fully experience the same contempt you dared last night to offer me.
Seite 171 - I did so ; the walk encouraged me, and another loud applause succeeded. I felt a glow, which seemed to say, ' "What have you to fear! Now, or never. This is the night that either makes you or undoes you quite.

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