Life of Mrs. Siddons, Volumes 1-2

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E. Wilson, 1834 - 266 pages

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Page 15 - Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear ; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Page 29 - Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crow...
Page 26 - Are you a man ? MACB. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil. LADY M. O proper stuff ! This is the very painting of your fear : This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself ! Why do you make such faces ? When all 's done, You look but on a stool.
Page 17 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 14 - It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way ; thou would'st be great, Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it ; what thou would'st highly, That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win ; thou 'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it ' ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.
Page 22 - Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content : 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
Page 20 - tis not done. The attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us. Hark ! I laid their daggers ready He could not miss them. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done 't.
Page 30 - Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!— Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse...
Page i - Pity it is, that the momentary beauties flowing from an harmonious elocution, cannot like those of poetry be their own record! That the animated graces of the player can live no longer than the instant breath and motion that presents them; or at best can but faintly glimmer through the memory, or imperfect attestation of a few surviving spectators.
Page 28 - ... with her varying emotions, present, perhaps, one of the greatest difficulties of the scenic art, and cause her representative no less to tremble for the suffrage of her private study, than for its public effect. " It is now the time to inform you of an idea which I have conceived of Lady...

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