(Pages 1 to 6 of the manuscript, containing chapters 1 - 3, are lost. The extant text starts on page 7...)

(3) Displayed moreo'er the adamantine pavement How unto his own mother made Alcmaeon Costly appear the luckless ornament; Displayed how his own sons did throw themselves Upon Sennacherib within the temple, And how, he being dead, they left him there; Displayed the ruin and the cruel carnage That Tomyris wrought, when she to Cyrus said, "Blood didst thou thirst for, and with blood I glut thee!" Displayed how routed fled the Assyrians After that Holofernes had been slain, And likewise the remainder of that slaughter. I saw there Troy in ashes and in caverns; O Ilion! thee, how abject and debased, Displayed the image that is there discerned! Whoe'er of pencil master was or stile, That could portray the shades and traits which there Would cause each subtile genius to admire? Dead seemed the dead, the living seemed alive; Better than I saw not who saw the truth, All that I trod upon while bowed I went. Now wax ye proud, and on with looks uplifted, Ye sons of Eve, and bow not down your faces So that ye may behold your evil ways!

(11) Leaf 1. The top line reads: "Our earliest medicine was made of natural objects." About the king and queen appears the statement that to them a son shall be born "in two trees of the vine," resembling his father and without equal in all the world. About the vase is written: "Green and white." "The vase flame color, the flowers green." "Our water, our silver." The lines below read: "The material of the Philosopher's Stone is that thick, viscous water, which either heat or cold congeals. It is Mercury boiled down and thickened, cooked in neutral earth with sulphurous heat and is called the Prime Material of the metals. In caverns yet dark, and forbidding mountains, if a Stone be found which a thousand years ago Nature made out of her fruits, it will bring him that has it out of trouble. * * * Listen carefully to all my verses; I speak them without veil and without deception.

(7) Even so, when she had taken hold of me, The beautiful lady moved, and unto Statius Said, in her womanly manner, "Come with him." If, Reader, I possessed a longer space For writing it, I yet would sing in part Of the sweet draught that ne'er would satiate me; But inasmuch as full are all the leaves Made ready for this second canticle, The curb of art no farther lets me go. From the most holy water I returned Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage, Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.

(1) Whene'er is broken up the game of Zara, He who has lost remains behind despondent, The throws repeating, and in sadness learns; The people with the other all depart; One goes in front, and one behind doth pluck him, And at his side one brings himself to mind; He pauses not, and this and that one hears; They crowd no more to whom his hand he stretches, And from the throng he thus defends himself. Even such was I in that dense multitude, Turning to them this way and that my face, And, promising, I freed myself therefrom. There was the Aretine, who from the arms Untamed of Ghin di Tacco had his death, And he who fleeing from pursuit was drowned. There was imploring with his hands outstretched Frederick Novello, and that one of Pisa Who made the good Marzucco seem so strong. I saw Count Orso; and the soul divided By hatred and by envy from its body, As it declared, and not for crime committed, Pierre de la Brosse I say; and here provide While still on earth the Lady of Brabant, So that for this she be of no worse flock!

(15) Leaf 4. At the top: "Let them believe that . everything is possible. The art is fleeting, bright and rare, and not believed by the foolish." The words between the sun and crescent read "It is hidden," and on the panel across the body "The Book of life and true Treasury of the World." The panel to the left of the figure says "Moving almost all, and the soul of its body returns to the place from which it had fled, and ripens seven months or nine, and the King crowned with his diadem appears." The right panel states: "There are three Mercuries: animal, vegetable, and mineral." The text below is of such a cryptic nature that to translate it is well nigh impossible. It declares that by putting fire beneath the feet of the symbolic figure it is possible to extract therefrom the sun and the moon which the human body is shown elevating to a position of dignity above its head.

(5) Florence, within the ancient boundary From which she taketh still her tierce and nones, Abode in quiet, temperate and chaste. No golden chain she had, nor coronal, Nor ladies shod with sandal shoon, nor girdle That caught the eye more than the person did. Not yet the daughter at her birth struck fear Into the father, for the time and dower Did not o'errun this side or that the measure. No houses had she void of families, Not yet had thither come Sardanapalus To show what in a chamber can be done; Not yet surpassed had Montemalo been By your Uccellatojo, which surpassed Shall in its downfall be as in its rise. Bellincion Berti saw I go begirt With leather and with bone, and from the mirror His dame depart without a painted face; And him of Nerli saw, and him of Vecchio, Contented with their simple suits of buff And with the spindle and the flax their dames. O fortunate women! and each one was certain Of her own burial-place, and none as yet For sake of France was in her bed deserted.

(44) "I will not represent unto you that which was written in good and intelligible Latin in all the other written leaves, for God would punish me, because I should commit a greater wickedness, than he who (as it is said) wished that all the men of the World had but one head that he might cut it off with one blow. Having with me therefore this fair book, I did nothing else day nor night, but study upon it, understanding very well all the operations that it showed, but not knowing with what matter I should begin, which made me very heavy and solitary, and caused me to fetch many a sigh. My wife Perrenella, whom I loved as myself, and had lately married was much astonished at this, comforting me, and earnestly demanding, if she could by any means deliver me from this trouble. I could not possibly hold my tongue, but told her all, and showed this fair book, whereof at the same instant that she saw it, she became as much enamoured as myself, taking extreme pleasure to behold the fair cover, gravings, images, and portraits, whereof notwithstanding she understood as little as I: yet it was a great comfort to me to talk with her, and to entertain myself, what we should do to have the interpretation of them."

(12) A careful inspection of the first four "Shakespeare" folios discloses the use throughout the volumes of several styles of type differing in minute but distinguishable details. It is possible that all the "Shakespeare" folios contain ciphers running through the text. These ciphers may have been added to the original plays, which are much longer in the folios than in the original quartos, full scenes having been added in some instances.

(31) It is evident also that the mispaginations in the Shakespearian Folios and other volumes are keys to Baconian ciphers, for re-editions--often from new type and by different printers--contain the same mistakes. For example, the First and Second Folios of Shakespeare are printed from entirely different type and by different printers nine years apart, but in both editions page 153 of the Comedies is numbered 151, and pages 249 and 250 are numbered 250 and 251 respectively. Also in the 1640 edition of Bacon's The Advancement and Proficience of Learning, pages 353 and 354 are numbered 351 and 352 respectively, and in the 1641 edition of Du Bartas' Divine Weeks pages 346 to 350 inclusive are entirely missing, while page 450 is numbered 442. The frequency with which pages ending in numbers 50, 51, 52,53, and 54 are involved will he noted.

(34) [pages 109 and 110 are missing in NHC III, replaced here by the corresponding section in the Berlin Gnostic Codex, the beginning of which is somewhat different from the final partial sentence of NHC III 108 (the broken off sentence)]

(36) At hand is a document which may prove a remarkable key to a cipher beginning in The Tragedy of Cymbeline. So far as known it has never been published and is applicable only to the 1623 Folio of the Shakespearian plays. The cipher is a line-and-word count involving punctuation, especially the long and short exclamation points and the straight and slanting interrogation points. This code was discovered by Henry William Bearse in 1900, and after it has been thoroughly checked its exact nature will be made public.

(4) There the high glory of the Roman Prince Was chronicled, whose great beneficence Moved Gregory to his great victory; 'Tis of the Emperor Trajan I am speaking; And a poor widow at his bridle stood, In attitude of weeping and of grief. Around about him seemed it thronged and full Of cavaliers, and the eagles in the gold Above them visibly in the wind were moving. The wretched woman in the midst of these Seemed to be saying: "Give me vengeance, Lord, For my dead son, for whom my heart is breaking." And he to answer her: "Now wait until I shall return." And she: "My Lord," like one In whom grief is impatient, "shouldst thou not Return?" And he: "Who shall be where I am Will give it thee." And she: "Good deed of others What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?" Whence he: "Now comfort thee, for it behoves me That I discharge my duty ere I move; Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me." He who on no new thing has ever looked Was the creator of this visible language, Novel to us, for here it is not found.

(37) in his own words as preserved in his Hieroglyphical Figures: "Whilst therefore, I Nicholas Flammel, Notary, after the decease of my parents, got my living at our art of writing, by making inventories, dressing accounts, and summing up the expenses of tutors and pupils, there fell into my hands for the sum of two florins, a guilded book, very old and large. It was not of paper, nor of parchment, as other books be, but was only made of delicate rinds (as it seemed to me) of tender young trees. The cover of it was of brass, well bound, all engraven with letters, or strange figures; and for my part I think they might well be Greek characters, or some such like ancient language. Sure I am. I could not read them, and I know well they were not notes nor letters of the Latin nor of the Gaul, for of them we understand a little.

(31) Leaf 17. The verse at the top of the page reads: "Not only must this material be fixed, but it must be allowed to enter into everything so that this material may be well completed and have infinite virtue. Then by making it thick, it becomes at once all white, sublimation from white it becomes shining." Above the sun are the words: "God and Nature do nothing in vain." The man on the left is a mediæval conception of Hermes, the great Egyptian philosopher; the one on the right is Christopher, the philosopher of Paris. Above the latter is written: "If the Stone is black, it is not useless." The words over the retort are: "There is air, fire, water, and earth." Below is added: "A dissolution of the body is the first step. " The curious chemical apparatus must be considered purely symbolic in this work and, as its author himself says, is intended to give only a hint of the "Art."

(398) our souls’ health the rougher and severer poet or story-teller, who will imitate the style of the virtuous only, and will follow those models which we prescribed at first when we began the education of our soldiers. We certainly will, he said, if we have the power. Then now, my friend, I said, that part of music or literary education which relates to the story or myth may be considered to be finished; for the matter and manner have both been discussed. I think so too, he said. Next in order will follow melody and song. That is obvious. Every one can see already what we ought to say about them, if we are to be consistent with ourselves. I fear, said Glaucon, laughing, that the word ‘every one’ hardly includes me, for I cannot at the moment say what they should be; though I may guess. At any rate you can tell that a song or ode has three parts—the words, the melody, and the rhythm; that degree of knowledge I may presuppose? Yes, he said; so much as that you may. And as for the words, there will surely be no difference between words which are and which are not set to music; both will conform to the same laws, and these have been already determined by us? Yes. And the melody and rhythm will depend upon the words? Certainly. We were saying, when we spoke of the subject-matter, that we had no need of lamentation and strains of sorrow? True.

(3) I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past. If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed. And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. "Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?

(4) "O happy dead! O spirits elect already!" Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all, Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible, For to lose time irks him most who most knows." As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils, And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not; So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, Modest in face and dignified in gait. As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, So that from me the shadow reached the rock, They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; And all the others, who came after them, Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same. "Without your asking, I confess to you This is a human body which you see, Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

(1) Perchance six thousand miles remote from us Is glowing the sixth hour, and now this world Inclines its shadow almost to a level, When the mid-heaven begins to make itself So deep to us, that here and there a star Ceases to shine so far down as this depth, And as advances bright exceedingly The handmaid of the sun, the heaven is closed Light after light to the most beautiful; Not otherwise the Triumph, which for ever Plays round about the point that vanquished me, Seeming enclosed by what itself encloses, Little by little from my vision faded; Whereat to turn mine eyes on Beatrice My seeing nothing and my love constrained me. If what has hitherto been said of her Were all concluded in a single praise, Scant would it be to serve the present turn. Not only does the beauty I beheld Transcend ourselves, but truly I believe Its Maker only may enjoy it all. Vanquished do I confess me by this passage More than by problem of his theme was ever O'ercome the comic or the tragic poet;

(1) Now bears us onward one of the hard margins, And so the brooklet's mist o'ershadows it, From fire it saves the water and the dikes. Even as the Flemings, 'twixt Cadsand and Bruges, Fearing the flood that tow'rds them hurls itself, Their bulwarks build to put the sea to flight; And as the Paduans along the Brenta, To guard their villas and their villages, Or ever Chiarentana feel the heat; In such similitude had those been made, Albeit not so lofty nor so thick, Whoever he might be, the master made them. Now were we from the forest so remote, I could not have discovered where it was, Even if backward I had turned myself, When we a company of souls encountered, Who came beside the dike, and every one Gazed at us, as at evening we are wont To eye each other under a new moon, And so towards us sharpened they their brows As an old tailor at the needle's eye. Thus scrutinised by such a family, By some one I was recognised, who seized My garment's hem, and cried out, "What a marvel!"