British Theatre, Volume 30 (Google eBook)

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J. Bell, 1791 - English drama
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Page 6 - Tis not that I am mortified to all ambition; but I scorn as much to take it from half-witted judges, as I should to raise an estate by cheating of bubbles.* Neither do I discommend the lofty style in tragedy, which is naturally pompous and magnificent; but nothing is truly sublime, that is not just and proper.
Page 39 - O seek not to convince me of a crime, Which I can ne'er repent, nor can you pardon ; Or, if you needs will know it, think, oh think, That he who, thus commanded, dares to speak, Unless commanded, would have died in silence. But you adjured me, madam, by my hopes ! Hopes I have none, for I am all despair ; Friends I have none, for friendship follows favour ; Desert I've none, for what I did was duty : Oh that it were ! that it were duty all ! Leo.
Page 9 - The truth is, the audience are grown weary of continued melancholy scenes; and I dare venture to prophesy that few tragedies except those in verse shall succeed in this age if they are not lightened with a course of mirth. For the feast is too dull and solemn without the fiddles.
Page 5 - D'Amboys upon the theatre; but when I had taken up what I supposed a fallen star, I found I had been cozened with a jelly; nothing but a cold, dull mass, which glittered no longer than it was shooting; a dwarfish thought, dressed up in gigantic words, repetition in abundance, looseness of expression, and gross hyperboles; the sense of one line expanded prodigiously into ten; and, to sum up all, uncorrect English, and a hideous mingle of false poetry and true nonsense ; or, at best, a scantling of...
Page 7 - Ocean ; To glaze the Lakes, to bridle up the Floods, And periwig with Snow the bald-pate Woods.
Page 44 - O heavens, she pities me ! And pity still foreruns approaching love, As lightning does the thunder! Tune your harps, Ye angels, to that sound ; and thou, my heart, Make room to entertain thy flowing joy.
Page 98 - To bear affronts too great to be forgiven, And not have power to punish ; yet one way There is to ruin Bertran. Leo. Oh, there's none ; Except an host from heaven can make such haste To save my crown as he will do to seize it.
Page 109 - Farewell ungrateful traitor, Farewell my perjured swain, Let never injured creature Believe a man again. The pleasure of possessing Surpasses all expressing, But 'tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain.
Page 71 - What if I ne'er consent to make you mine ? My father's promise ties me not to time ; And bonds without a date, they say, are void.
Page 60 - I must first be satisfied, that you love me. Lor. By all that's holy ! by these dear eyes ! Elv. Spare your oaths and protestations ; I know you gallants of the time have a mint at your tongue's end to coin them. Lor. You know you cannot marry me ; but, by heavens, if you were in a condition Elv.

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