An Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespear Compared with the Greek and French Dramatic Poets: With Some Remarks Upon the Misrepresentations of Mons. de Voltaire
J. Dodsley, 1769 - 288 psl.
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abfurd admired affaffin affift affume againſt allegory ANTONY Auguftus bafe beſt blood Brutus Cæfar Caffius cauſe character Cinna circumſtances compofitions confpiracy confpirators Corneille critic criticiſm dæmons defire drama ELPINICE Emilia eſtabliſhed Euripides expreffed fable fame faſhion fays fcene fecret feems fentiments fhall fhew firſt folemn foliloquy fome foul fpectator fpeeches French ftage ftill fubject fublime fuch fuperftitions fuperiority furely fympathy genius ghoſt greateſt hath heart heav'n hero himſelf hiſtorical honour imitation intereft itſelf juft juſt king lefs Macbeth manners maſter mind moft moſt muſt myſelf nature neceffary obferved occafion paffion perfons philofophers piece play pleaſe pleaſure poet poetry prefent purpoſes racter raiſed reaſon repreſentation repreſented reſemblance reſpect Roman ſays ſcene ſeems Shakeſpear ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome Sophocles ſpeak ſpirit ſtage ſtate ſtill ſtory ſuch ſuppoſe Tacitus taſte thee thefe theſe thoſe thou tion tragedy tragedy of Macbeth tranflation underſtand uſe Voltaire whofe whoſe
265 psl. - Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am, to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause : What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason ! Bear with me ; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me.
250 psl. - O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not POmpey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The livelong day, with patient expectation, To see great POmpey pass the streets of Rome...
269 psl. - O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
181 psl. - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...
214 psl. - tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend: so Caesar may; Then, lest he may, prevent.
180 psl. - Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, }Never to hope again.
269 psl. - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend...
265 psl. - Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man.
264 psl. - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.