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The Life of Mrs. Jordan: Including Original Private Correspondence ..., Volume 1
Visualização integral - 1831
acted actor actress admiration amusement appearance attended attraction audience beauty became benefit brought called character comedy comic considered Country course critic Drury Lane effect engagement equal excellent excite expression farce fashionable feel figure Francis Garrick gave give given hand heard heart honour interest Jordan Kemble King lady language laugh least length lines lived London looked Lord manager manner master mean merit mind Miss Farren nature never night occasion once opera original perfect performance perhaps piece play poor present produced profession question received rendered rival Royal scene season seemed seen Shakspeare Sheridan shillings Siddons sister soon speak stage summer talent theatre thing thought took town tragedy usual whole woman writer York young
Página 62 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Página 7 - And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Página 316 - E'en wondered at because he dropt no sooner; Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years; Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more, Till, like a clock worn out with eating Time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
Página 100 - Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat, All other parts remaining as they were ; And they, so perfect is their misery, Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, But boast themselves more comely than before ; And all their friends and native home forget, To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.
Página 240 - Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee : — I ha-ye thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Página 62 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Página 134 - Commons. (42) you still bleed from the wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch, beneath his rage.
Página 203 - English artists are the most engaged, a variety, a fancy, and a dignity derived from the higher branches, which even those who professed them in a superior manner did not always preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portraits remind the spectator of the invention of history, and the amenity of landscape. In painting portraits he appeared not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend to it from a higher sphere.