The Life and Life-work of Samuel Phelps

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Sampson Low, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1886 - Actors - 436 pages
 

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Page 190 - O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven ! Keep me in temper ; I would not be mad ! — Enter Gentleman.
Page 130 - I had — but man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
Page 84 - No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things — What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Page 272 - To move a horror skilfully, to touch a soul to the quick, to lay upon fear as much as it can bear, to wean and weary a life till it is ready to drop, and then step in with mortal instruments to take its last forfeit : this only a Webster can do. Inferior geniuses may " upon horror's head horrors accumulate,
Page 329 - O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 324 - Where should Othello go? — Now, how dost thou look now ? O ill-starr'd wench ! Pale as thy smock ! when we shall meet at compt, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl? Even like thy chastity. — O cursed, cursed slave ! — Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight! Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! "Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
Page 200 - O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Page 200 - O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others
Page 200 - If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, To prey at fortune.
Page 337 - Who made a nation purer through their art. Thine is it that our drama did not die, Nor flicker down to brainless pantomime, And those gilt gauds men-children swarm to see. Farewell, Macready; moral, grave, sublime; Our Shakespeare's bland and universal eye Dwells pleased, through twice a hundred years, on thee.

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