A History of English Dramatic Literature to the Death of Queen Anne, Том 1Macmillan and Company, 1875 - 1247 стор. |
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acted action actors allusion already appears Bartholomew Fair Ben Jonson called century character Chronicle classical Collier comedy comic connexion course criticism Cynthia's Revels death doubt doubtless drama dramatic literature dramatist earlier edition Edward Edward II element Elisabethan England English entertainments euphuism Fletcher French genius German Gorboduc Hamlet hand Henry VI Henry VIII hero Hero and Leander humour influence introduced Italian Jonson kind King Klein Latin latter literary Locrine London Lord Lyly Lyly's Marlowe Marlowe's mask mentioned moral mysteries Old Plays original pageants passage period plot poem poet poetic popular printed probably produced Prologue published Queen Elisabeth reference reign religious resemblance Richard III scene seems Sejanus seqq Shak Shakesp Shakespeare Shakspere Shakspere's Shakspere's plays Spanish Spanish Tragedy species speech spere stage story theatre tion Titus Andronicus tragedy tragic translation verse writers written
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Сторінка 230 - Beauty is but a flower, Which wrinkles will devour: Brightness falls from the air; Queens have died young and fair; Dust hath closed Helen's eye; I am sick, I must die. Lord have mercy on us!
Сторінка 161 - If we shadows have offended. Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here, While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.
Сторінка 326 - Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, — the fairest flowers o...
Сторінка 182 - Why this is hell, nor am I out of it : Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being deprived of everlasting bliss ? O Faustus ! leave these frivolous demands, Which strike a terror to my fainting soul.
Сторінка 560 - WEEP with me, all you that read This little story; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry. 'Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature.
Сторінка 326 - Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean; so over that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Сторінка 540 - No doubt some mouldy tale, Like Pericles and stale As the shrieve's crusts, and nasty as his fish — Scraps, out of every dish Thrown forth, and raked into the common tub...
Сторінка 584 - All our English writers, I mean such as are happy in the Italian, Will deign to steal out of this author, mainly: Almost as much as from Montagnie: He has so modern and facile a vein, Fitting the time, and catching the court-ear!
Сторінка 368 - ... supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Сторінка 573 - ... so solemnly ridiculous, as to search out, who was meant by the gingerbread woman, who by the hobby-horse man, who by the costard-monger, nay, who by their wares.