Old Love and New Fortune, a Play [In Verse] by the Author of 'Conti'.
by Henry Fothergill Chorley (9781130355413)

Old Love and New Fortune, a Play [In Verse] by the Author of 'Conti'.
Henry Fothergill Chorley
Format: Paperback / softback
Pages: 34
Category: Anthologies (non-poetry)
Publisher: Rarebooksclub.com
ISBN: 9781130355413
ISBN-10: 1130355411

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1850 Excerpt: ...is come, and that's enough. EVE. None, then, for Mistress Sybil? Let me see! JEREMY. For Mistress Sybil, none. EVE. Why came I down? Go, take the letters to Sir Archibald, And tread thou softly: he is grieved at heart.--Exit Jeremy. So Sybil's fate is sealed! and once again Disdain and folly make a wreck of Youth! Her poor, poor father! All that homeward voyage, How would he boast his children! This so brave And that so fair. Others than I have dreams, But his have been too short. O! to come home To such a greeting! I shall watch by him Through long, long winter eves, afraid to speak, And he unwilling--while his lonely heart Calls loud for son and daughter, with none near To answer him but humble Eve. 'Tis strange; How often I have visioned this. SONG BEHIND THE SCENES. La! lira! la I--'Twos a maiden fair, With gold to squander and hearts to break, One May-morn fell in a primrose snare, For never was Beauty too wide awake! La I liraI la!--Said ilie stern Sir Grey, "For the love of our pleasant childhood's sake, I'U find her, and guard her, and bear her away, For never was Beauty too wide awake I" Enter La Roque. LA ROQUE. Within there! Ho! EVE. At last! at last! in time: yet scarce in time! LA ROQUE. Where is she? fares she well?--I long to engage Her saucy eye. Meanwhile (ofering'EvE a chain) wear this for me, Discreetest Eve!--for now I pay my debts. Come now--What weather's on my angel's brow? Set fair, or rain and storm, or once more, change? EVE. No time to jest. You must not bow, nor smile Into my face--there's ruin come to pass; You know not how your lady and my Lord LA ROQUE. I 'll spare thy modesty--my Lord hath wooed The queenly Sybil. EVE. Can you say it lightly? LA ROQUE. Light deeds--light words.--Ay--bless her! and she laughed To hea...

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