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 (Google eBook)
H. Saunders, J. Potts, W. Sleater, D. Chamberlaine, and J. Williams, 1769 - 242 pages
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The admirers of this Essay may be offended at the slighting manner in which Johnson spoke of it; but let it be remembered, that he gave his honest opinion unbiassed by any prejudice, or any proud ... Read full review
absurd Achilles action admired Æschylus affected allegory ambition ancient Antony appears Aristotle Atossa Augustus blank verse blood Brumoy Brutus character Cinna circumstances conspiracy conspirators Corneille countryman courtiers critic crown dæmons death drama dramatic writers Elpinice Emilia Euripides excite fable fait Falstaffe fame fays fear French genius ghost give grace Grecian Greek hath heart heav'n Henry hero honour human imagination imitation interest judgment Julius Cæsar kind king lady language learned lover Macbeth manners ment mind moral murder muse nature Nervii noble Œdipus passions peculiar perfect person piece play Plebeian poet poet's poetry præternatural Prince racter render representation Roman Rome says scene secret seems sentiments Shakespear shews solemn soliloquy Sophocles speak spectator speech spirit stage subjects sublime superior superstition Tacitus taste tell temper terrors theatre thee Theseus thing thou tion tragedians tragedy tragedy of Macbeth translation Voltaire vulgar witches words
Page 265 - 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.
Page 250 - 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...
Page 269 - 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.
Page 181 - 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...
Page 214 - 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.
Page 180 - 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.
Page 269 - 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...
Page 265 - 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.
Page 264 - 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.