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Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a read more
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.
To grasp the full significance of life is the actor's duty, to interpret it is his problem, and to express read more
To grasp the full significance of life is the actor's duty, to interpret it is his problem, and to express it his dedication.
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.
Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's read more
Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's you: the table is the place:
The carvers we: the prologue is the grace.
Each act, a course, each scene, a different dish,
Though we're in Lent, I doubt you're still for flesh.
Satire's the sauce, high-season'd, sharp and rough.
Kind masks and beaux, I hope you're pepperproof?
Wit is the wine; but 'tis so scarce the true
Poets, like vintners, balderdash and brew.
Your surly scenes, where rant and bloodshed join.
Are butcher's meat, a battle's sirloin:
Your scenes of love, so flowing, soft and chaste,
Are water-gruel without salt or taste.
Everybody has his own theatre, in which he is manager, actor,
prompter, playwright, sceneshifter, boxkeepeer, doorkeeper, all
in read more
Everybody has his own theatre, in which he is manager, actor,
prompter, playwright, sceneshifter, boxkeepeer, doorkeeper, all
in one, and audience into the bargain.
My only regret in the theatre is that I could never sit out front
and watch me.
My only regret in the theatre is that I could never sit out front
and watch me.
The best actors do not let the wheels show.
The best actors do not let the wheels show.
Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime.
In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time;
Mad wag! who pardon'd none, read more
Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime.
In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time;
Mad wag! who pardon'd none, nor spared the best,
And turn'd some very serious things to jest.
Nor church nor state escaped his public sneers,
Arms nor the gown, priests, lawyers, volunteers;
"Alas, poor Yorick!" now forever mute!
Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote.
We smile, perforce, when histrionic scenes
Ape the swoln dialogue of kings and queens,
When "Chrononhotonthelogos must die,"
And Arthur struts in mimic majesty.
