The Authorship of Shakespeare: With an Appendix of Additional Matters, Including a Notice of the Recently Discovered Northumberland Mss., a Supplement of Further Proofs that Francis Bacon was the Real Author, Band 1
Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1887
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according actual ancient appears Bacon become beginning believe body Boston called cause certainly cites common conceive conception continues copies court created creation death difference direction divine doubt earth evidence existence expression fact force Francis Bacon further genius give given Hamlet hand hath heaven Henry human idea imagination instance justice kind King knowledge known learned less letter light lines living London Lord manner matter means merely mind motion nature necessary never observation particular passage perhaps person philosophy physical Plato play poet possible present probable providence question reason rest says seems sense Shakes soul space speaking Spedding speech spirit stand substance things thinking thou thought tion true truth universe virtue whole William Shakespeare writings written
Seite 445 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; * And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back...
Seite 715 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me. You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Seite 480 - I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness; so we'll live, // And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; And take...
Seite 531 - O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head : and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchaf 'd, as the rud'st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine, And make him stoop to the vale.
Seite 445 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew, by whose aid Weak masters though ye be - I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt, the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd and let 'em forth...
Seite 567 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues ; nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use.
Seite 777 - Tarry a little; there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are "a pound of flesh:" Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh: But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate Unto the state of Venice.
Seite 498 - tis in ourselves, that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens ; to the which, our wills are gardeners : so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce ; set hyssop, and weed up thyme ; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many ; either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry ; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.
Seite 511 - Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear ; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.