The libertine
dc.contributor | Bond, David Project Pallas U of Exeter |
dc.contributor.author | Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2019-07-04T09:53:26Z |
dc.date.available | 2019-07-04T09:53:26Z |
dc.date.created | 1676 |
dc.date.issued | 1989-01-25 |
dc.identifier | ota:1294 |
dc.identifier.citation | http://purl.ox.ac.uk/ota/1294 |
dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.12024/1294 |
dc.description.abstract | Deposited with the archive by electronic mail which is still visible at the beginning of the text |
dc.format.extent | Text data (1 file : ca. 138 KB) |
dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
dc.language | English |
dc.language.iso | eng |
dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
dc.relation.ispartof | Oxford Text Archive Core Collection |
dc.rights | Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. |
dc.rights.uri | http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ |
dc.rights.label | PUB |
dc.subject.lcsh | Plays -- England -- 17th century |
dc.subject.lcsh | Tragedies -- England -- 17th century |
dc.subject.other | Plays |
dc.title | The libertine |
dc.type | Text |
has.files | yes |
branding | Oxford Text Archive |
files.size | 146578 |
files.count | 2 |
otaterms.date.range | 1600-1699 |
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From: CBS%UK.AC.EXETER::BOND.DA 25-JAN-1989 13:56:05.27
To: archive
CC:
Subj: THE LIBERTINE
Via: UK.AC.EXETER.EXPD; Wed, 25 Jan 89 13:53 GMT
Date: Wed, 25 Jan 89 13:46:16 BST
To: archive@UK.AC.OXFORD.VAX
From: BOND.DA@UK.AC.EXETER
Subject: THE LIBERTINE
Message-ID: <BOND.DA.OCRV@UK.AC.EXETER>
{THE
LIBERTINE.}
{ACT I.}
{Enter Don John, Don Lopez, Don Antonio, Jacomo,
Don John's Valet.}
{Don John.}
THus far without a bound we have enjoy'd
Our prosp'rous pleasures, which dull Fools call Sins;
Laugh'd at old feeble Judges, and weak Laws;
And at the fond fantastick thing, call'd Conscience,
Which serves for nothing but to make men Cowards;
An idle fear of future misery;
And is yet worse than all that we can fear.
{D. Lop.}
Conscience made up of dark and horrid thoughts,
Rais'd from the fumes of a distemper'd Spleen.
{D. Anto.}
A sensless fear, would make us contradict
The only certain Guide, Infallible Nature;
And at the call of Melancholy Fools,
(Who stile all ac . . .