Collectanea: 1st-2d Series, Том 1Shakespeare head Press, 1906 |
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Affectionate Shepheard Alice Anne Brewen Arber Arcadia Arden of Fever Arden of Feversham arms atheism author of Locrine author of Selimus Bajazet Basilisco Book borrowed Bosola canto viii Cassandra Cecropia Christopher Marlowe Compare copied dart Devil's Law-Case Dido doth Duchess of Malfi Dyce Edmund Spenser Edward Edward II England's Parnassus eyes Faerie Queene Faustus favour fear Greene Guise hath heart heaven Holinshed hurtling husband imitation Jew of Malta John Brewen Jove king Kyd's lines Locrine Lucrece Marlowe Marlowe's Massacre at Paris Massinger Monumental Column Mosbie murder never pamphlet parallels passage Philip Sidney John Philoclea phrasing Piston play poem quote repeats Ruines of Rome says scourge Shake Shakespeare sham ship of Arden Sidney's Sir Philip Sidney Soliman and Perseda Spanish Tragedie speare Richard Barnfield speech stanza ster and Sir style sweet Tamb Tamburlaine thee tomb-black unto Venus Webster words writer written
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Стр. 31 - We see in needle-works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground : judge therefore of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when they are incensed or crushed : for Prosperity doth best discover vice, but Adversity doth best discover virtue.
Стр. 79 - I'll ride in golden armour like the sun; And in my helm a triple plume shall spring, Spangled with diamonds, dancing in the air, To note me emperor of the three-fold world...
Стр. 43 - These wretched eminent things Leave no more fame behind 'em, than should one Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow; As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts, Both form and matter. I have ever thought Nature doth nothing so great for great men As when she's pleas'd to make them lords of truth : Integrity of life is fame's best friend, Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end.
Стр. 78 - And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back full low. Upon the top of all his loftie crest, A bounch of heares discolourd diversly, With sprincled pearle and gold full richly drest, Did shake. and seemd to daunce for jollity, Like to an almond tree ymounted hye On top of greene Selinis all alone, With blossoms brave bedecked daintily ; Whose tender locks do tremble every one At everie little breath that under heaven is blowne.
Стр. 76 - Huge sea of sorrow and tempestuous griefe, Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long Far from the hoped haven of reliefe, Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so strong, And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng, ' Threatning to swallow up my fearefull...
Стр. 70 - He shewd him painted in a table plaine The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile, And thousand feends, that doe them endlesse paine With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine. 50 The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid, That nought but death before his eyes he saw, And ever burning wrath before him laid, By righteous sentence of th
Стр. 11 - And Shakespeare thou, whose hony-flowing Vaine, (Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine. Whose Venus, and whose Lucrece (sweete, and chaste) Thy Name in fames immortall Booke have plac't. Live ever you, at least in Fame live ever: Well may the Bodye dye, but Fame dies never.
Стр. 29 - I'll tell thee a miracle ; I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow. Th' heaven o'er my head seems made of molten brass, The earth of flaming sulphur, yet I am not mad ; I am acquainted with sad misery, As the tann'd galley-slave is with his oar ; Necessity makes me suffer constantly, And custom makes it easy.
Стр. 17 - A great many epigrams were ill, because they expressed in the end what sould have been understood by what was said. That of S. Joh. Davies, ' Some loved running verses,
Стр. 115 - tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head; For he's a lamb, encompassed by wolves, Which in a moment will abridge his life. But if proud MOrtimer do wear this crown, Heavens turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire ! Or like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon...