Thor, with angels
| dc.contributor.author | Fry, Christopher, 1907-2005 |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2022-08-21T16:19:49Z |
| dc.date.available | 2022-08-21T16:19:49Z |
| dc.date.created | 1948 |
| dc.date.issued | 1976-01-01 |
| dc.identifier | ota:0521 |
| dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/0521 |
| dc.description.abstract | In English Title from title page of source text Oxford paperbacks ; 179 |
| dc.format.extent | Text data less than 512 KB |
| dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
| dc.language | English |
| dc.language.iso | eng |
| dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
| dc.relation.ispartof | Oxford Text Archive Legacy Collection |
| dc.rights | Although this resource has been deposited with us, it is not currently available for re-use by others. |
| dc.rights.uri | https://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/licence-ota |
| dc.rights.label | ACA |
| dc.subject.lcsh | Plays -- Great Britain -- 20th century |
| dc.subject.other | Plays |
| dc.title | Thor, with angels |
| dc.type | Text |
| hidden | hidden |
| has.files | yes |
| branding | Oxford Text Archive |
| files.size | 65958 |
| files.count | 1 |
| otaterms.date.range | 1900-1999 |
Files for this item
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- thor-0521.txt
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- 64.41 KB
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- Version of the work in plain text format
<P 51> <T Thor with Angels> [#A Play# (Oxford University Press Paperback ed.1969) CHARACTERS CYMEN CLODESUIDA, #His Wife# MARTINA, #His Daughter# QUICHELM, #His Elder Son# CHELDRIC, #His Younger Son# TADFRID #His Brother-in-Law# OSMER #His Brother-in-Law# COLGRIN, #His Steward# ANNA, #Colgrin's Wife# HOEL, #A British Prisoner# MERLIN A MESSENGER SCENE: #A Jutish Farmstead,# A.D. 596] <P 57> [#A Jutish farmstead, both within and without. To the left a group of# #trees ; to thc right a shed, in which# COLGRIN, #an elderly man, is# #asleep among the straw. Enter# QUICHELM. #He hammers at the# #farm door.#] QUICHELM. Hyo, there! Who's awake? Where's The welcome of women for warfarers? Where's my Wodenfearing mother? Hey! hey! Spare some sleep for us: Leave us half a snore and a stale dream. Here's your battery of males come home! Our bones are aching; we're as wet As bogworms. Who's alive in there? COLGRIN. There's an infernal clatter. What's the matter? Foof!. Straw in the nostrils. That' . . .
