The Works of Mr. Thomas Otway: In Three Volumes, 第 1 卷

T. Turner, 1813 - 62 頁


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第 25 頁 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise?
第 liv 頁 - For which reason, though he has admirably succeeded in the tender and melting part of his tragedies, he sometimes falls into too great a familiarity of phrase in those parts which, by Aristotle's Rule, ought to have been raised and supported by the dignity of expression.
第 liv 頁 - Otway has followed nature in the language of his tragedy, and therefore shines in the passionate parts, more than any of our English poets. As there is something familiar and domestic in the fable of his tragedy, more than in those of any other poet, he has little pomp, but great force, in his expressions.
第 liv 頁 - I will not defend every thing in his Venice Preserved; but I must bear this testimony to his memory, that the passions are truly touched in it, though, perhaps, there is somewhat to be desired both in the grounds of them, and in the height and elegance of expression : but nature is there, which is the greatest beauty, " In the passions," says our author, " we must have a very great regard to the quality of the persons who are actually possessed with them.
第 xlii 頁 - Poets in honour of the truth should write, With the same spirit brave men for it fight; And though against him causeless hatreds rise, And daily where he goes of late, he spies The scowls of sullen and revengeful eyes; "Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear, And serves a cause too good to let him fear: He fears no poison from an incensed drab, No ruffian's five-foot sword, nor rascal's stab; Nor any other snares of mischief laid, Not a Rose-alley cudgel-ambuscade, From any private cause where...
第 liii 頁 - To express the passions which are seated in the heart, by outward signs, is one great precept of the painters, and very difficult to perform. In poetry, the same passions and motions of the mind are to be expressed ; and in this consists the principal difficulty, as well as the excellency of that art. This...
第 xx 頁 - I have hitherto contented myself with the ridiculous part of him, which is enough, in all conscience, to employ one man ; even without the story of his late fall at the Old Devil, where he broke no ribs, because the hardness of the stairs could reach no bones ; and,, for my part, I do not wonder how he came to fall, for I have always known him heavy : the miracle is, how he got up again.
第 xix 頁 - He has often called me an atheist in print; I would believe more charitably of him, and that he only goes the broad way, because the other is too narrow for him.
第 viii 頁 - Ilissus' distant side ? Deserted stream and mute ! Wild Arun* too has heard thy strains, And Echo 'midst my native plains Been sooth'd by Pity's lute : There first the wren thy myrtles shed On gentlest Otway's infant head ; To him thy cell was shown ; And while he sung the female heart, With youth's soft notes unspoil'd by art, Thy turtles mix'd their own.
第 xxvi 頁 - Tom Otway came next, Tom Shadwell's dear zany, And swears, for heroicks, he writes best of any : Don Carlos his pockets so amply had fill'd, That his mange was quite cur'd, and his lice were all kill'd, But Apollo had seen his face on the stage, And prudently did not think fit to engage, The scum of a playhouse for the prop of an age.