The Works of Thomas Otway, with Notes and a Life of the Author by T. Thornton

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. 1813 edition. Excerpt: ... Does then success attend upon your toil t I long to see you revel in the spoil. Rui-Gom. What strictest diligence could do, I've done, T incense an angry father 'gainst his son. I to advantage tola him all that's past, Describ'd with art each am'rous glance they cast: So that this night he shunn'd the marriage-bed, Which thro' the court has various murmurs spreads Enter the King, attended by Posa. See where he comes with fury in his eyes; Kind heav'u but grant the storm may higher rise. If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell, And laugh to hear my magic work so well. King. What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poor Is fading greatness! or how vain is pow'r! Where all the mighty conquests I have seen? I, who o'er nations have victorious been, Now cannot quell one little foe within. Curs'd jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets! How heavy on my heart th'invader sits! Ob Gomez, thou hast giv'n my mortal wound. Rui-Gom. What is't does so your royal thoughts confound? A king his pow'r unbounded ought to have, And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave. King. Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure To the sad cause of what I now endure. Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give? And dost not wonder to behold me live? Rui-Gom. I only did as by my duty tied, And never studied any thing beside. King. I do not blame thy duty or thy care: Quickly, what past between them more, declare. How greedily my soul to ruin flies! As he, who in a fever burning lies, First of his friends does for a drop implore, Which tasted once, unable to give o'er, Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more. Oh then Rui-Gom. I fear that you'll interpret wrong; Tis true, they gaz'd, but 'twas not very long. King. Lie still, my heart: not...