Francis Beaumont

Francis Beaumont
Francis Beaumont (1584–1616) was an English playwright and poet renowned for his collaborative works with John Fletcher, particularly in the realm of Jacobean drama. Their partnership produced several significant plays, including "The Maid's Tragedy" and "Philaster," which were celebrated for their intricate plots and vivid characterizations. Beaumont's solo works and contributions to the dramatic canon have left a lasting impact on English literature, despite his relatively short life.

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Actus primus. Scena prima. * * * * * Enter Mardonius and Bessus, Two Captains. Mar. Bessus, the King has made a fair hand on't, he has ended the Wars at a blow, would my sword had a close basket hilt to hold Wine, and the blade would make knives, for we shall have nothing but eating and drinking. Bes. We that are Commanders shall do well enough. Mar. Faith Bessus, such Commanders as thou may; I... more...

ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA. Enter 2 Ushers, and Grooms with perfumes. 1 Usher. Round, round, perfume it round, quick, look ye Diligently the state be right, are these the richest Cushions? Fie, fie, who waits i'th' wardrobe? 2 Ush. But pray tell me, do you think for certain These Embassadours shall have this morning audience? 1 Ush. They shall have it: Lord that you live at Court And... more...

Actus primus. Scena prima. Enter Angelo, Milanes, and Arsenio. Arsenio. Leandro paid all. Mil. 'Tis his usual custom,And requisite he should: he has now put offThe Funeral black, (your rich heir wears with joy,When he pretends to weep for his dead Father)Your gathering Sires, so long heap muck together,That their kind Sons, to rid them of their care,Wish them in Heaven; or if they take a tasteOf... more...

THE MAIDS TRAGEDY. Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher Persons Represented in the Play. King. Lysippus, brother to the King. Amintor, a Noble Gentleman. Evadne, Wife to Amintor.         Malantius}        Diphilius} Brothers to Evadne. Aspatia, troth-plight wife to Amnitor.         Calianax, an old humorous Lord, and                  Father to Aspatia.... more...

TO THE READER. Poetry is the Child of Nature, which regulated and made beautifull by Art, presenteth the most Harmonious of all other compositions; among which (if we rightly consider) the Dramaticall is the most absolute, in regard of those transcendent Abilities, which should waite upon the_ Composer; who must have more then the instruction of Libraries which of it selfe is but a cold contemplative... more...

Actus Primus. Scena Prima. Enter Clorin a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour. Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbraceThe truest man that ever fed his flocksBy the fat plains of fruitful Thessaly,Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I payMy early vows, and tribute of mine eyesTo thy still loved ashes; thus I freeMy self from all insuing heats and firesOf love: all sports, delights and... more...

Actus PrimusScena PrimaEnter Juan de Castro, and Michael Perez. Michael PerezAre your Companies full, Colonel? Juan de CastroNo, not yet, Sir:Nor will not be this month yet, as I reckon;How rises your Command? Michael PerezWe pick up still, and as our monies hold out,We have men come, about that time I thinkWe shall be full too, many young Gallants go. Juan de CastroAnd unexperienced,The Wars are dainty... more...

Actus Primus. Scena Prima. Enter Dinant, a[n]d Cleremont. Din. Disswade me not. Clere. It will breed a brawl. Din. I care not, I wear a Sword. Cler. And wear discretion with it,Or cast it off, let that direct your arm,'Tis madness else, not valour, and more baseThan to receive a wrong. Din. Why would you have meSit down with a disgrace, and thank the doer?We are not Stoicks, and that passive... more...

ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA. Enter a Merchant and Herman. Mer. Is he then taken? Her. And brought back even now, Sir. Mer. He was not in disgrace? Her. No man more lov'd, Nor more deserv'd it, being the only man That durst be honest in this Court. Mer. IndeedWe have heard abroad, Sir, that the State hath sufferedA great change, since the Countesses death. Her. It hath, Sir. Mer. My five years... more...

Actus primus. Scena prima. Enter Uncle and Merchant. Merc. When saw you Valentine? Uncle. Not since the Horse-race, he's taken up with those that woo the Widow. Mer. How can he live by snatches from such people? he bore a worthy mind. Uncle. Alas, he's sunk, his means are gone, he wants, and which is worse,Takes a delight in doing so. Mer. That's strange. Unc. Runs Lunatick, if you but... more...

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