Neuer deutscher Hausschatz für Freunde der Künste und Wissenschaften, Volumes 3-4

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H.J. Landau, 1866

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Page 341 - I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit...
Page 204 - Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame; Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please. But let us be candid, and speak out our mind, If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind.
Page 204 - Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick If they were not his own by finessing and trick: He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame; Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease, Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.
Page 204 - As an actor, confest without rival to shine ; As a wit, if not first, in the very first line : Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings , a dupe to his art. Like an ill-judging beauty, his colours he spread , And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red. On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; *T was only that when he was off, he was acting.
Page 204 - As an actor, confessed without rival to shine : As a wit, if not first, in the very first line : Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings, a dupe to his art.
Page 325 - M'a dessillé les yeux, et me les vient d'ouvrir. Je vois, je sais, je crois, je suis désabusée...
Page 9 - La Notte che tu vedi in si dolci atti Dormir, fu da un Angelo scolpita In questo sasso, e perche dorme, ha vita : Destala, se nol credi, e parleratti.
Page 204 - Twas only that when he was off he was acting ; With no reason on earth to go out of his way, He turn'd and he varied full ten times a day : Tho...
Page 42 - Credette Cimabue nella pittura Tener lo campo, ed ora ha Giotto il grido, SI che la fama di colui oscura.
Page 341 - Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann'd, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit?

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