Is it Shakespeare?: The Great Question of Elizabethan Literature

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E.P. Dutton & Company, 1903 - 387 pages
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Page 285 - And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion...
Page 180 - Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass, their virtues We write in water.
Page 263 - It seems to me that Pygmalion's frenzy is a good emblem or portraiture of this vanity : for words are but the images of matter, and except they have life of reason and invention, to fall in love with them is all one as to fall in love with a picture.
Page 3 - The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours ; what I have to do is yours ; being part in all I have, devoted yours.
Page 252 - How absolute the knave is ! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken a note of it ; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. How long hast thou been a gravemaker ? First Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to 't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
Page 321 - Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st; So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Page 348 - What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you ; On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are painted new: Speak of the spring and...
Page 285 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Page 330 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Page 55 - That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth,— wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin,— By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason...

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