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612-822-4611
The Historie of Orlando Furioso, One of the Twelve Peeres of France [A Play, by R. Greene].

The Historie of Orlando Furioso, One of the Twelve Peeres of France [A Play, by R. Greene].

Paperback

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ISBN10: 1151663085
ISBN13: 9781151663085
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 18
Weight: 0.12
Height: 0.04 Width: 7.44 Depth: 9.69
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1907. Excerpt: ... Org: No, no, come play. Fidler. At which side dooth he vse to giue his re-ward. Org: Why of anie lide. Fidler. Doth he not vse to throw the chamber pot ino sometimes? Twould greeue me he mould wet my fiddle strings. Org: Turn I warrant thee. He playes and sings any odde toy, and Orlando wakes. Orl: Who is this, Shan Cuttelero? hartely wel-come, Shan Cuttelero. Fidler. No sir, you should haue said Shan the Fi-dideldero. Orl: What, hast thou brought me my lword? 1 no He takes away his fiddle. Fidler. A sword? No no sir, thats my fiddle. Orl: But dost thou think the temper to be good? And will it hold, when thus and thus we Medor do aflaile? He strikes and beates him with the fiddle. Fidler. Lord sir, youle breake my liuing. You told me your master was not mad. Orl: Tel me, why hast thou mard my sword? The pummells well, the blade is curtald short. Villaine why hast thou made it so, IlJ Fidler. O Lord Sir, will you answere this? He breakes it about his head. Exit Fidler. Enter Melifla with a glasle of Wine. Orl. Orgalio who is this? Orga. Faith my Lord some old witch I thinke. Mel. O that my Lord woulde but conceit my tale. Then would I Ipeake and hope to finde redrefle. Orl: Faire Polixena, the pride of Illion, -4 Feare not Achilles ouer-madding boy, Pyrrus shall not, &c. Sounes Orgalio, why sufferest thou this old trot to come so nigh me? Orga: come, come, stand by, your breath stinkes. Orl: What, be all the Trogians fled, Then giue me some drinke. Mel: Here Palatine drinke, and euer be thou better for this draught. Orl: What here the paltrie bottle that Darius njo quaft, Hee drinkes, and me charmes him with her wand, and lies downe to sleepe. Else would I set my mouth to Tygres streames, And drinke vp ouerflowing Euphrates, My eyes are heauie, and I ...