The Origin of the English Drama Volume 2; The Spanish tragedy [by Thomas Kyd] The love of King David and fair Bethsabe [by George Peele] Soliman and ... of Ferrex and Porrex [by Thomas Norton - Softcover

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. 1773 Excerpt: ...ftrength. Jonathan. Aliathar befides entreats the king To fend his men of war againft his fon. And hazard not his perfon in the field. David. Thanks to Abiathar, and to you both, And to my Cufay, whom the Lord requite; But ten times treble thanks to his foft hand, Whofe pleafant touch hath made my heart to dance, And play him praifes in my zealous breaft, That turn'd the counfel of Achitopbel After the prayers of his fervant's lips. Now will we pafs the river all this night, And in the morning found the voice of war, The voice of bloody and unkindly war. Joab. Then tell us how thou wilt divide thy men, And who fhall have the fpecial charge herein. David. Joab, thyfelf fhall for thy charge conduit The firft third part of all my valiant men; The fecond fliall Ahifais valour lead; The third fair fthay, which I moft fhould grace, For comfort he hath done to David's woes; And I myfclf will follow in the midft. Ithay. That let not David; for, though we mould fly, Ten thoufand of us were not half fo much Efteem'd with David's enemies, as himfelf; Thy people, loving thee, deny thee this. David. What feems them beft, then that will David do:--But now, my lords, and captains, hear his voice, That never yet pierc'd piteous heav'n in vain; Then let it not flip lightly through your cars; For my fake fpare the young man Abjahn.--Jaab, thyfelf didft once ufe friendly wordi To reconcile my heart incens'd to him If If then thy love be to thy kinfman found, / And thou wilt prove a perfeft Ifraelite, Friend him with deeds, and touch no hair of him, Not that fair hair with which the wanton winds Delight to play, and loves to make it curl, Wherein the nightingales would build their nefts, And make fweet bow'rs in ev'ry golden trefs, To fing their lover every night afleep. O, fp...