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.

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.

I sweat. If anything comes easy to me I mistrust it.

I sweat. If anything comes easy to me I mistrust it.

A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.

A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.

Your scene precariously subsists too long,
On French translation and Italian song.
Dare to have sense yourselves; read more

Your scene precariously subsists too long,
On French translation and Italian song.
Dare to have sense yourselves; assert the stage;
Be justly warm'd with your own native rage.

As good as a play.

As good as a play.

Acting is a nice childish profession - pretending you're someone else and, at the same time, selling yourself.

Acting is a nice childish profession - pretending you're someone else and, at the same time, selling yourself.

The point of acting is to pretend you're someone else and sell a story.

The point of acting is to pretend you're someone else and sell a story.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
read more

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold--
For this the tragic Muse first trod the stage.