Shakespeare, Actor-poet: As Seen by His Associates, Explained by Himself and Remembered by the Succeeding GenerationD. Appleton, 1927 - 356 Seiten |
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actor admiration Aretino Aubrey beauty Ben Jonson Burbage Cæsar character comedy Court critics Davenant death declared dedication doth dramatic Earl England English Essex eyes Falstaff famous favour Folio Francis Meres French Fruits genius Giovanni Florio grace Hamlet hath Henry honour Italian Jonson Julius Cæsar King labour language Latin learned letters literary living London Lord Love's Labour's Lost Macbeth Marlowe Master Merchant of Venice mind Montaigne natural never noble Oxford passion patron play poems poet poet's portrait praise Prince printed proverbs Queen Rabelais reader Richard Richard II rôle seems Shake Sir John sonnets Southampton speak speare speare's spirit stage Stratford taste Tempest thee Thomas Thomas Heywood Thomas Nashe thou thought tion tongue toong tragedy tragic translated troupe Venus and Adonis verse volume Warwickshire William d'Avenant William Shakespeare words write young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 201 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
Seite 42 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain, But with the motion of all elements Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power Above their functions and their offices.
Seite 43 - And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye ; A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind ; A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd : Love's feeling is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails...
Seite 115 - THE love I dedicate to your Lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. 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.
Seite 140 - Tired with all these, for restful death I cry: As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill.
Seite 154 - ... red ; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun ; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks ; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound ; I grant I never saw a goddess go ; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground : And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As...
Seite 8 - By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear, To hearken if his foes pursue him still. Anon their loud alarums he doth hear; And now his grief may be compared well To one sore sick that hears the passingbell.
Seite 297 - Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught : leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.
Seite 139 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence cannot boast — I was not sick of any fear...
Seite 64 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...