The Mirror of Taste, and Dramatic Censor, Volume 1

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Página 419 - O mighty Caesar ! dost thou lie so low ? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure?
Página 392 - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more. Never, never, never, never, never ! — Pray you undo this button : thank you, sir. — Do you see this? Look on her, — look, — her lips,— Look there, look there ! — [He dies.
Página 344 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Página 391 - Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low- an excellent thing in woman.
Página 391 - I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack. — She's gone for ever. — I know when one is dead, and when one lives; She's dead as earth. — Lend me a looking-glass ; If that her breath will mist or stain the stone. Why, then she lives.
Página 83 - And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touched by the thorns.
Página 148 - Then, having show'd his wounds, he'd sit him down, And all the live-long day discourse of war. To help my fancy, in the smooth green turf He cut the figures of the marshal! 'd hosts ; Describ'd the motions, and explain'd the use Of the deep column, and the lengthen'd line, The square, the crescent, and the phalanx firm: For all that Saracen or Christian knew Of war's vast art, was to this hermit known.
Página 301 - A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at ! Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live, or bear no life...
Página 390 - A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life : but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or, that if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue.
Página 134 - 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 present them, or at best can but faintly glimmer through the memory or imperfect attestation of a few surviving spectators!

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