Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
When the corpse of the murder'd lawyer was found in the morning, and the officers of justice commenced their inquiry, suspicion immediately fell upon Philip, and he was arrested. The most rigorous search, however, brought to light nothing at all implicating the young man, except his visit to Covert's office the evening before, and his angry language there.
But for thy faithless Hope, I 'ad murder'd him, Even when the holy Priest was marrying them, And offer'd up the reeking Sacrifice To th'Gods he kneel'd to, when he took my price; By all their Purity I would have don't.
Death, such another Word, And through all Laws and Reason I will rush, And reach thy Soul, if mortal like thy Body. No, Sir, she's chaste, as are the new-made Vows I breath'd upon her Lips, when last we parted. Lord. Who waits there? Enter Trusty and Servants. Shall I be murder'd in my own House?
All that we know of him, Pisaro now inform'd me, Who came just as he thought he had murder'd thee, And begg'd he would provide for his own safety. But he who gave him sober promises, No sooner found himself out of his arms, But frantick and i'th' dark he got away.
Anon the tear More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell Of pretty babes, that lov'd each other dear, Murder'd by cruel Uncle's mandate fell: Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart, Ev'n so thou, SIDDONS! meltest my sad heart! London Magazine, January, 1822. John Lamb died on October 26, 1821, leaving all his property to his brother. Charles was greatly upset by his loss.
Sir Feeb. Ah Bel. Go not to Bed, I guard this sacred Place, And the Adulterer dies that enters here. Sir Feeb. Oh why do I shake? sure I'm a Man, what art thou? Bel. I am the wrong'd, the lost and murder'd Bellmour. Sir Feeb. O Lord! it is the same I saw last night Oh! hold thy dread Vengeance pity me, and hear me Oh! a Parson a Parson what shall I do Oh! where shall I hide my self? Bel.
How the race of wrong'd Alpine and murder'd Glencoe Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe! Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More! Mac-Neil of the islands, and Moy of the Lake, For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake!
Ha, ha, ha, I thought thou would'st have said at least had murder'd his Father, or ravish'd his Mother Break a Vow, quoth ye by Fortune, I have broke a thousand. Bel. Well said, my Boy! A Man of Honour! And will be ready whene'er the Devil calls for thee So ho more Wine, more Wine, and Dice. Enter a Servant with Dice and Wine. Sir Tim. What will you set me, Sir? Bel.
Where such mild arts can no impression make, War, tumult, noise and fury must awake. Fortune one age with three great chiefs supply'd, Who different ways, by the sword that rais'd 'em dy'd; Crassus's blood, Asia; Africk, Pompey's shed; In thankless Rome, the murder'd Caesar bled.
How the race of wrong'd Alpine and murder'd Glencoe Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe! Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More! Mac-Neil of the islands, and Moy of the Lake, For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake!
Word Of The Day
Others Looking