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ancient appears better born buried called certainly character collection comedy common copies corrected criticism daughter death died edition editor English equal errors expression folio former give given hand Hart hath Henry instance John Jonson King knowledge known language late Latin learning least less living Malone manner matter mean mentioned Nash nature never notes observed once opinion original particular passages performance perhaps person pieces Plautus players plays poem poet poet's Pope praise present printed probably produced publick published quarto reader reason says scene seems Shakspeare Shakspeare's sometimes speak stage stand Steevens story Stratford suppose taken thing Thomas thou thought tion tragedy translation true truth unto verse whole writer written
150. oldal - He was the man who, of all modern and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them, not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too.
71. oldal - ... loved the man, and do honour his memory on this side idolatry as much as any. He was, indeed; honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein he flowed with that facility that sometimes it was necessary he should be stopped.
350. oldal - And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines, Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit. The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please ; But antiquated and deserted lie, As they were not of Nature's family.
348. oldal - Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
359. oldal - What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labour of an age in piled stones ? Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
41. oldal - And though this, probably the first essay of his poetry, be lost, yet it is said to have been so very bitter, that it redoubled the prosecution against him...
176. oldal - Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as much againe as it was, according to the true and perfect Coppie.
122. oldal - ... in the virtuous a disapprobation of the wicked ; he carries his persons indifferently through right and wrong, and at the close dismisses them without further care, and leaves their examples to operate by chance. This fault the barbarity of his age cannot extenuate ; for it is always a writer's duty to make the world better, and justice is a virtue independent on time or place.