Shapes of Clay - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 86

SALVINI IN AMERICA.

Come, gentlemen—your gold. Thanks: welcome to the show. To hear a story told In words you do not know. Now, great Salvini, rise And thunder through your tears, Aha! friends, let your eyes Interpret to your ears. Gods! 't is a goodly game. Observe his stride—how grand! When legs like his declaim Who can misunderstand? See how that arm goes round. It says, as plain as day: "I love," "The lost is found," "Well met, sir," or, "Away!" And mark the drawing down Of brows. How accurate The language of that frown: Pain, gentlemen—or hate. Those of the critic trade Swear it is all as clear As if his tongue were made To fit an English ear. Hear that Italian phrase! Greek to your sense, 't is true; But shrug, expression, gaze— Well, they are Grecian too. But it is Art! God wot Its tongue to all is known. Faith! he to whom 't were not Would better hold his own. Shakespeare says act and word Must match together true. From what you've seen and heard, How can you doubt they do? Enchanting drama! Mark The crowd "from pit to dome", One box alone is dark— The prompter stays at home. Stupendous artist! You Are lord of joy and woe: We thrill if you say "Boo," And thrill if you say "Bo."