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The Plays and Poems Cyril Tourneur

The Plays and Poems

Cyril Tourneur

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Volume: 2 General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1878 Original Publisher: Chatto and Windus, $1878. Subjects: Drama / General Drama / English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh Drama / Shakespeare Literary Collections / General LiteraryMoreVolume: 2 General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1878 Original Publisher: Chatto and Windus, $1878. Subjects: Drama / General Drama / English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh Drama / Shakespeare Literary Collections / General Literary Criticism / Drama Literary Criticism / Shakespeare Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: THE AUTHOR TO HIS BOOKE O Were Thy margents cliffes of itching lust Or quotes to chalke out men the way to sin- Then were there hope that multitudes wold thrust To buy thee: but sith that thou dost beginne To pull the curtaines backe that closde vice in Expect but flowts, for tis the haire of crime To shunne the breath that doth discloude it sinne. What ? will he say a recluse from the time ? Nor canst thou hope that thy weake joynted rime Shall please the more, because it shrowdes itselfe Under his shade whose mighty armes do clime Evn to the highest heavn, disdaining pelfe- For heavenly mindes, the brightlier they do shine The more the world doth seeke to work their tine: This only be thy hope, -- to please the best And to be safe from malice of the rest. TO THE READER. It may be (Reader) I may gall those men Whose golden thoughts thinke no man dare them touch- It may be too my fearelesse ayre-plume-pen May rouse that sluggish watch whose tongues are such As are controlld by feare or gold too much: Yet were Apelles here, he could not paint Forth perfectly the worlds deformities. For as the troubled mind whose sad complaint Still tumbles forth half-breathed accenties, Th Idea doth confuse and chaoize: So will the Chaos of up-heaped sinne Confound his braine that takes in hand to lay A platforme plainly forth, ...