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See, how these rascals use me! They will not let my play run;
and yet they steal my thunder.
See, how these rascals use me! They will not let my play run;
and yet they steal my thunder.
There still remains to mortify a wit
The many-headed monster of the pit.
There still remains to mortify a wit
The many-headed monster of the pit.
You need three things in the theatre--the play, the actors and the audience,--and each must give something.
You need three things in the theatre--the play, the actors and the audience,--and each must give something.
The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give.
For we that live to please, must please to live.
The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give.
For we that live to please, must please to live.
As good as a play.
As good as a play.
Who teach the mind its proper face to scan,
And hold the faithful mirror up to man.
Who teach the mind its proper face to scan,
And hold the faithful mirror up to man.
My sister wanted to be an actress. She never made it, but she does live in a trailer... so she read more
My sister wanted to be an actress. She never made it, but she does live in a trailer... so she got halfway. She's an actress, she's just never called to the set.
But as for all the rest,
There's hardly one (I may say none) who stands the Artist's test.
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But as for all the rest,
There's hardly one (I may say none) who stands the Artist's test.
The Artist is a rare, rare breed. There were but two, forsooth,
In all me time (the stage's prime!) and The Other One was Booth.
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.
