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All's Bacon bear Chapman Chester Plays comes compositor confusion conjecture copies corrected course critics Cymb doth Dyce editions Elizabethan emendation English evidently eyes fact fair father fear final Folio fortune give Greene hand hath head hear heart heaven honour ibid instance Italy John King lady Lear leave letters light live look lord Malone manuscripts mean Meas Middleton mind misprinted misread mistake nature never night Note passage Peele present printed probably Quarto Read Reprints Return Rowe Script sense Shakespeare shape Society Sometimes speak Spenser stand stem suggests tell texts thee Theobald thing thou thought Troil true turn Wealth Wint word writing wrong
Page 89 - Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. 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 45 - Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavour in continual motion ; To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, Obedience : for so work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
Page 101 - Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' 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.
Page 46 - I will ask him for my place again ; he shall tell me I am a drunkard ! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast ! O strange ! Every inordinate cup is unblessed and the ingredient is a devil.
Page 54 - He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity...
Page 144 - And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death! Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Page 156 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up.
Page 79 - It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown cats and blind puppies. I have...
Page 68 - If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions...