The Life of David Garrick, Tom 1

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B. Smith, 1801 - 507
 

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Strona 55 - What hands are here ? ha ! they pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand ? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
Strona 89 - And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. Ah ! let not censure term our fate our choice, The stage but echoes back the public voice ; The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live. Then prompt no more the follies you decry, As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die...
Strona 127 - Whistling thro' hollows of this vaulted aisle; We'll listenLeonora. Hark! Almeria. No, all is hush'd and still as death, — Tis dreadful! How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, To bear aloft its arch'd and ponderous roof, By its own weight made stedfast and immoveable, Looking tranquillity!
Strona 338 - The exhibitions of the stage were improved to the most exquisite entertainment by the talents and management of Garrick, who greatly surpassed all his predecessors of this and perhaps every other nation, in his genius for acting ; in the sweetness and variety of his tones, the irresistible magic of his eye, the fire and vivacity of his action, the elegance of attitude, and the whole pathos of expression.
Strona 88 - Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as refin'd, For years the pow'r of Tragedy declin'd ; From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, Till Declamation roar'd, whilst Passion slept ; Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread, Philosophy remain'd, though Nature fled.
Strona 476 - Th' expressive glance — whose subtle comment draws Entranced attention, and a mute applause ; Gesture that marks, with force and feeling fraught, A sense in silence, and a will in thought ; Harmonious speech, whose pure and liquid tone Gives verse a music, scarce...
Strona 17 - When he started from his dream, he was a spectacle of horror. He called out in a manly tone: 'Give me another horse!' He paused, and, with a countenance of dismay, advanced, crying out in a tone of distress: 'Bind up my wounds'; and then, falling on his knees, said in the most piteous accent: 'Have mercy Heaven.
Strona 381 - He and another neighbour of mine, one Mr. Samuel Johnson, set out this morning for London together. Davy Garrick is to be with you early the next week, and Mr.
Strona 336 - The jingle of rhyme and the language of fiction would but ill suit my present feelings. This is to me a very awful moment ; it is no less than parting for ever with those from whom I have received the greatest kindness and favours, and upon the spot where that kindness and those favours were received.
Strona 87 - A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom, But left, like Egypt's kings a lasting tomb.

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