The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Discourse of Life and Death, by Mornay;
and Antonius by Garnier, by Philippe de Mornay and Robert Garnier
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Discourse of Life and Death, by Mornay; and Antonius by Garnier
Author: Philippe de Mornay
Robert Garnier
Translator: Mary Sidney Herbert
Release Date: June 10, 2007 [EBook #21789]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DISCOURSE OF LIFE ***
Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's Note:
This text is intended for users whose text readers cannot use the
"real" (unicode/utf-8) version of the file. Characters that could not
be fully displayed have been "unpacked" and shown in brackets:
[em], [en], [om], [on], [un]
vowel with overline (for following nasal)
The "oe" character is shown as two separate letters.]
A
Discourse of Life
_and Death_.
Written in French by _Ph.
Mornay_.
Antonius,
_A Tragoedie written also in French_
by _Ro. Garnier_.
Both done in English by the
_Countesse of Pembroke_.
[Illustration: publisher's device]
AT LONDON,
Printed for _William Ponsonby_.
1592.
[Illustration: Emblem]
[Decoration]
A Discourse of Life and Death,
Written in French by _Ph. Mornay_.
_Sieur du Plessis Marly_.
It seemes to mee strange, and a thing much to be marueiled, that
the laborer to repose himselfe hasteneth as it were the course
of the Sunne: that the Mariner rowes with all force to attayne
the porte, and with a ioyfull crye salutes the descryed land:
that the traueiler is neuer quiet nor content till he be at the
ende of his voyage: and that wee in the meane while tied in this
world to a perpetuall taske, tossed with continuall tempest,
tyred with a rough and combersome way, cannot yet see the ende
of our labour but with griefe, nor behold our porte but with
teares, nor approch our home and quiet abode but with horrour
and trembling. This life is but a _Penelopes_ web, wherein we
are alwayes doing and vndoing: a sea open to all windes, which
sometime
|