Memoirs of the Life of George Frederick Cooke, Esquire: Late of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, Volume 2

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D. Longworth, 1813
 

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Page 179 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds, that lowered upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Page 37 - And let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them : for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too ; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous; and . shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
Page 63 - The gods we worship, anil, next those, our honours. And with those swords that know no end of battle : Those men, beside themselves, allow no neighbour; Those minds that where the day is, claim inheritance, And where the sun makes ripe...
Page 338 - I exert myself to play before one of his rebellious subjects, who arrogates kingly state in defiance of his master ? No, it is degradation enough to play before rebels; but I'll not go on for the amusement of a king of rebels, the contemptible king of the Yankee-doodles!
Page 129 - Death takes the good — too good on earth to stay, And leaves the bad — too bad to take away.
Page 106 - WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new : Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'd after him in vain.
Page 389 - And all the clouds, that low'r'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried : Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern...
Page 331 - The astonishment of such an assembly may be imagined. After making his bows with much circumspection, he seated himself, and very wisely stuck to his chair for the remainder of the evening; and he likewise stuck to his text, and his cups triumphed over every image that could be presented to his imagination. " ' Madam, they have stopped my cups. Why did they not stop my swords ? No, they let my swords pass. But my cups will melt, and they have a greater love for silver than for steel. My swords would...
Page 331 - ... seated himself, and very wisely stuck to his chair for the remainder of the evening; and he likewise stuck to his text, and his cups triumphed over every image that could be presented to his imagination. " ' Madam, they have stopped my cups. Why did they not stop my swords ? No, they let my swords pass. But my cups will melt, and they have a greater love for silver than for steel. My swords would be useless with them ; but they can melt my cups and turn them to dollars ! And my Shakespeare —...
Page 228 - I soothed him and replied to his repeated entreaties of ' don't leave me,' by promises of remaining with him, but told him we must leave that place. He agreed, but added, with vehemence, 'Not back to his house ! No, never ! never ! ! ' — Which apparent resolution he confirmed with vehement and reiterated oaths. The officer let me know that the gentleman had stopped the levying on the goods, and agreed to pay the quarter's rent. I was proceeding to make some inquiries, but Cooke, in the most peremptory...

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