Critical Essays on Dramatic PoetryL. Davis and C. Reymers, 1761 - 274 стор. |
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Сторінка 10
... stage , for the use of fpectators , ftreighten the scene and render almost every action imperfect * . This defect also hinders decorations , fo much recommended by the ancients , from being ever rightly adapted to the piece ; and the ...
... stage , for the use of fpectators , ftreighten the scene and render almost every action imperfect * . This defect also hinders decorations , fo much recommended by the ancients , from being ever rightly adapted to the piece ; and the ...
Сторінка 11
... stage , the bloody corpfe of Marcus before his father Cato , who fays , Welcome my fon ! here lay him down my friends , Full in my fight , that I may view at leisure The bloody coarse , and count those glorious wounds . How beautiful is ...
... stage , the bloody corpfe of Marcus before his father Cato , who fays , Welcome my fon ! here lay him down my friends , Full in my fight , that I may view at leisure The bloody coarse , and count those glorious wounds . How beautiful is ...
Сторінка 17
... stage a chorus compofed of Ro- man plebeians and artizans ; or the bloody corpfe of Cæfar expofed to the eyes of the multitude ; and , that multitude provoked to revenge from the roftrum . It is cuf- tom alone , the governor of the ...
... stage a chorus compofed of Ro- man plebeians and artizans ; or the bloody corpfe of Cæfar expofed to the eyes of the multitude ; and , that multitude provoked to revenge from the roftrum . It is cuf- tom alone , the governor of the ...
Сторінка 18
... stage , inveighing against gods and men . The moans of Clitemnestra are heard by the spectators whilft her own fon is murdering her , and her daughter Elec- tra encouraging him from the stage , and faying , " ftrike , do not spare her ...
... stage , inveighing against gods and men . The moans of Clitemnestra are heard by the spectators whilft her own fon is murdering her , and her daughter Elec- tra encouraging him from the stage , and faying , " ftrike , do not spare her ...
Сторінка 19
... stage fhould become a scene of flaughter and de- . struction , as it is in Shakespear and in his fucceffors ; who , not being poffeffed of his genius , have only imitated his faults ; but I dare affert , that there are fituations which ...
... stage fhould become a scene of flaughter and de- . struction , as it is in Shakespear and in his fucceffors ; who , not being poffeffed of his genius , have only imitated his faults ; but I dare affert , that there are fituations which ...
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action Æneid affert againſt alfo almoſt Alzira ancient anſwer Athens beauties becauſe beſt Brutus Cæfar cardinal Richelieu cauſe Cinna comedy Corneille cuſtom defire Edipus engliſh expreffed expreffion faid fame fatisfied faults fcene feems fentiments fhall fhew fhould fimple fince firft firſt fome fometimes foon fpectacle fpectators France French ftage ftill fubject fuccefs fuch fuperior genius greateſt Greeks hiftory himſelf honour intereſting itſelf laft laſt lefs manner Mariamne moft monfieur de Voltaire moſt Motte mufic muſt myſelf nation nature neceffary notwithſtanding paffages paffion Paris perfonages perfons Phædra philofopher piece play pleaſe pleaſure poet poetry poffefs Polyeuctes Pradon prefent preferve profe publiſhed Racine raiſe reaſon refpects reprefented repreſentation rhyme ridiculous ſcene Semiramis Shakeſpear ſhe Sophocles ſpeak ſtage ſtill tafte taſte theatre thefe themſelves theſe thofe thoſe three unities tion tragedy tragic tranflated unity uſe verfe verſes Virgil Voltaire whofe whoſe write wrote Zara
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Сторінка 15 - Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him : but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition.
Сторінка 16 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; As which of you shall not ? With this I depart ; That, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Сторінка 15 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear : believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe : censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
Сторінка 14 - I am inclined to think, this opinion proceeded originally from the zeal of the partizans of our author and Ben Jonson ; as they endeavoured to exalt the one at the expence of the other.
Сторінка 16 - CESAR'S Body. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying...
Сторінка 71 - Moi-même, pour tout fruit de mes soins superflus, Maintenant je me cherche, et ne me trouve plus': Mon arc, mes javelots, mon char, tout m'importune...
Сторінка 11 - How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue ! Who would not be that youth ? what pity is it That we can die but once to serve our country...
Сторінка 71 - Dans le fond des forets votre image me suit. La lumiere du jour, les ombres de la nuit, Tout retrace a mes yeux les charmes que j'evite. Tout vous livre a 1'envi le rebelle Hippolyte.
Сторінка 11 - Tis Rome requires our tears. The mistress of the world, the seat of empire, The nurse of heroes, the delight of gods, That humbled the proud tyrants of the earth, And set the nations free, Rome is no more.
Сторінка 103 - Ant. How I lov'd Witnefs ye days and nights, and all ye hours, That danc'd away with down upon your feet, As all your bus'nefs were to count my paffion. One day paft by and nothing faw but love; Another came and ftill 'twas only love : The funs were weary'd out with looking on And I untir'd with loving. I faw you ev'ry day, and all the day, And ev'ry day was ftill but as the firft, So eager was I ftill to fee you more. Vent. 'Tis all too true. Ant. Fulvia my wife grew jealous, As (he indeed had reafon,...