A General View of the Stage: By Mr. Wilkes

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J. Coote; and W. Whetstone, Dublin, 1759 - 335 pages

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Page 131 - Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore, Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog Than answer my wak'd wrath ! lago.
Page 162 - That I must die, it is my only comfort ; Death is the privilege of human nature, And life without it were not worth our taking: " Thither the poor, the pris'ner, and the mourner, \\* " Fly for relief, and lay their burthens down.
Page 124 - Alack, alack, is it not like that I So early waking, what with loathsome smells And shrieks like mandrakes...
Page 125 - Imparadised in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss, while I to hell am thrust...
Page 224 - As for Maister Greene, all that I will speak of him (and that without flattery) is this (if I were worthy to censure) there was not an actor of his nature, in his time, of better ability in performance of what he undertook, more applauded by the audience, of greater grace at the court, or of more general love in the city.
Page 121 - ... .In Sophocles, when the unfortunate Deianira discovers her mistake in having sent a . poisoned vestment to her husband Hercules; her surprise and sorrow are unspeakable, and she answers not her son who acquaints her with the disaster, but goes off the stage without uttering a syllable. A writer unacquainted with nature and the heart, would have put into her mouth twenty florid Iambics, in which she would bitterly have bewailed her misfortunes, and informed the spectators that she was going to...
Page 119 - Away, stand off ! where is she ? let me fly, Save her from death, and snatch her to my heart. Aim. Oh! Alph. Forbear ; my arms alone shall hold her up, Warm her to life, and wake her into gladness.
Page 145 - Kneller recognised in him a superior artist. Sir Godfrey remarks that "he could only copy nature from the originals before him, but that Dogget could vary them at pleasure and yet keep a close likeness.
Page 162 - Thither the Poor, the Pris'ner, and the Mourner, Fly for Relief, and lay their Burthens down. Come then, and take me now to thy cold Arms, Thou meagre Shade ; here let me breathe my last...
Page 232 - I never see him coming down from one corner of the Stage with his old grey hair standing, as it were, erect upon his head, his face filled with horror and attention, his hands expanded, and his whole frame actuated by a dreadful solemnity but I am astounded and share in all his distresses. Nay, as Shakespeare in some different place, with elegance, observes upon another subject, one might interpret from the dumbness of his gesture.

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