Fiction Books

ACT I. SCENE I. A rich Chamber. A Table with Lights, Abdelazer sullenly leaning his Head on his Hands: after a little while, still Musick plays. SONG.     _Love _in fantastick Triumph sat,      Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,    For whom fresh Pains he did create,      And strange Tyrannick Pow'r he shewed;    From thy bright Eyes he took his... more...

ACT I. SCENE I. The Street. Enter Sir Timothy Tawdrey, Sham, and Sharp. Sir Tim. Hereabouts is the House wherein dwells the Mistress of my Heart; for she has Money, Boys, mind me, Money in abundance, or she were not for me—The Wench her self is good-natur'd, and inclin'd to be civil: but a Pox on't—she has a Brother, a conceited Fellow, whom the World mistakes... more...

PART I—BOOK I THE MASTERPIECE On marriage and at what age young men and virgins are capable of it: and why so much desire it. Also, how long men and women are capable of it. There are very few, except some professional debauchees, who will not readily agree that "Marriage is honourable to all," being ordained by Heaven in Paradise; and without which no man or woman can be in a capacity,... more...

CHAPTER 1 MY name is Arthur Gordon Pym. My father was a respectable trader in sea-stores at Nantucket, where I was born. My maternal grandfather was an attorney in good practice. He was fortunate in every thing, and had speculated very successfully in stocks of the Edgarton New Bank, as it was formerly called. By these and other means he had managed to lay by a tolerable sum of money. He was more... more...

THE DEVIL IN THE BELFRY What o'clock is it?—Old Saying. EVERYBODY knows, in a general way, that the finest place in the world is—or, alas, was—the Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss. Yet as it lies some distance from any of the main roads, being in a somewhat out-of-the-way situation, there are perhaps very few of my readers who have ever paid it a visit. For the benefit of those who have... more...

PHILOSOPHY OF FURNITURE. In the internal decoration, if not in the external architecture of their residences, the English are supreme. The Italians have but little sentiment beyond marbles and colours. In France, meliora probant, deteriora sequuntur—the people are too much a race of gadabouts to maintain those household proprieties of which, indeed, they have a delicate appreciation, or at least the... more...

ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA. Enter Lewis, Angellina, and Sylvia. Lewis. Nay, I must walk you farther. Ang. I am tir'd, Sir, and ne'er shall foot it home. Lew. 'Tis for your health; the want of exercise takes from your Beauties, and sloth dries up your sweetness: That you are my only Daughter and my Heir, is granted; and you in thankfulness must needs acknowledge, you ever find me an... 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...

The first aim of art, no doubt, is the representation of things as they are. But then things are as our eyes see them and as our minds make them; and it is thus of primary importance for the critic to distinguish the precise qualities of the eyes and minds which make the world into imaginative literature. Reality may be so definite and so false, just as it may be so fantastic and so true; and, among... more...

The most robust and masculine of recent French novelists is a typical Norman, sprung from an ancient noble family, originally of Lorraine, but long settled in the Pays de Caux. The traveler from England towards Paris, soon after leaving Dieppe, sees on his left hand, immediately beyond the station of St. Aubin, a handsome sixteenth-century house, the Château de Miromesnil, on a hill above the railway.... more...