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, and a Full Index, Volume 2

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1886 - 828 pages
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Page 719 - 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.
Page 533 - 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.
Page 520 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Page 408 - O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
Page 480 - 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...
Page 495 - And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues.
Page 518 - You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Page 569 - That to the observer doth thy history Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. 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.
Page 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.
Page 465 - Heaven's plagues, Have humbled to all strokes ; that I am wretched, Makes thee the happier. — Heavens, deal so still! Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough.

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