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.

Tom Goodwin was an actor-man,
Old Drury's pride and boast,
In all the light and spritely parts,
read more

Tom Goodwin was an actor-man,
Old Drury's pride and boast,
In all the light and spritely parts,
Especially the ghost.

The play bill which is said to have announced the tragedy of
Hamlet, the character of the Prince of read more

The play bill which is said to have announced the tragedy of
Hamlet, the character of the Prince of Denmark being left out.

The best actors do not let the wheels show.

The best actors do not let the wheels show.

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.

And Tragedy should blush as much to stoop
To the low mimic follies of a farce,
As read more

And Tragedy should blush as much to stoop
To the low mimic follies of a farce,
As a grave matron would to dance with girls.

Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse,
As undertakers walk before the hearse.

Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse,
As undertakers walk before the hearse.

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.

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.