John Ford
Author profile
born
April 17, 1586
in Ilsington, The United Kingdom
died
January 01, 1640
gender
male
genre
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'Tis Pity She's a Whore
by John Ford, Martin Wiggins — published 1633 — 31 editions |
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'Tis Pity She's a Whore and Other Plays
by John Ford, Marion Lomax — 3 editions |
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The Broken Heart
— published 1633 — 10 editions |
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Three Plays
— published 1971 |
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Tutankhamen's Treasures
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The Chronicle History of Perkin Warbeck: A Strange Truth
— published 1634 — 5 editions |
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'Tis Pity She's a Whore.
by John Ford, Roper — published 1976 |
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Love's Lure: God's Project People: A Third Millennium Vision
— published 2011 |
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The Broken Heart
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Mister Roberts
— 2 editions |
“Lost, I am Lost! My fates have doomed my death.
The more I strive, I love; the more I love,
The less I hope. I see my ruin, certain.
What judgement or endeavors could apply
To my incurable and restless wounds
I throughly have examined, but in vain.
Oh, that it were not in religion sin
To make our love a god and worship it!
I have even wearied heaven with prayers, dried up
The spring of my continual tears, even starved
My veins with daily fasts; what wit or art
Could counsel, I have practiced. But, alas,
I find all these but dreams and old men's tales
To fright unsteady youth; I'm still the same.
Or I must speak or burst. Tis not, I know,
My lust, but tis my fate that leads me on.
Keep fear and low fainthearted shame with slaves!
I'll tell her that I love her, through my heart
Were rated at the price of that attempt.”
― John Ford, Tis Pity She's A Whore
The more I strive, I love; the more I love,
The less I hope. I see my ruin, certain.
What judgement or endeavors could apply
To my incurable and restless wounds
I throughly have examined, but in vain.
Oh, that it were not in religion sin
To make our love a god and worship it!
I have even wearied heaven with prayers, dried up
The spring of my continual tears, even starved
My veins with daily fasts; what wit or art
Could counsel, I have practiced. But, alas,
I find all these but dreams and old men's tales
To fright unsteady youth; I'm still the same.
Or I must speak or burst. Tis not, I know,
My lust, but tis my fate that leads me on.
Keep fear and low fainthearted shame with slaves!
I'll tell her that I love her, through my heart
Were rated at the price of that attempt.”
― John Ford, Tis Pity She's A Whore
“Alas, poor gentleman,
He look’d not like the ruins of his youth
But like the ruins of those ruins.”
― John Ford, The Broken Heart
He look’d not like the ruins of his youth
But like the ruins of those ruins.”
― John Ford, The Broken Heart














