Слике страница
PDF
ePub

Swiftness of Fairy's Motion.

I go, I go; look, how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.

Senfe of Hearing quickened by Lofs of Sight.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes;
Wherein it doth impair the feeing fenfe,
It pays the hearing double recompenfe.

Female Friendship.

Is all the council that we two have fhar'd,
The fifters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hafty-footed time
For parting us: Oh! is all now forgot?
All fchool-days friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
Have with our neelds created both one flow'r,
Both on one fampler, fitting on one cushion;
Both warbling of one fong, both in one key;
As if our hands, our fides, voices and minds,
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, feeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,

Two lovely berries moulded on one ftem:
So with two feeming bodies, but one heart;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one creft.
And will you rent our ancient love afunder,
To join with men in fcorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:
Our fex, as well as I, may chide you
Though I alone do feel the injury.

t

for it;

Lover's Hate the greateft Harm. What can you do me greater harm than hate? Female Timidity.

I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me: I was never curft; I have no gift at all in fhrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice, Day-Break.

Night's fwift dragons cut the clouds full faft, And yonder fhines Aurora's harbinger; At whole approach, ghofts, wand'ring here and Troop home to church-yards. [there,

[blocks in formation]

Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard So mufical a difcord, fuch fweet thunder,

Thef. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,

With ears that fweep away the morning dew;
So flew'd, fo fanded; and their heads are hung
Crook-kneed, and dew-lap'd,likeTheffalian bulls;
Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
Each under each. A cry more tunable
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn.
Fairy Motion.

Then, my queen, in filence fad
Trip we after the night's fhade:
We the globe can compaís foon
Swifter than the wand'ring moon.

Confufed Remembrance.

These things feem fmall and undiftinguishable, Like far off mountains turned into clouds. The Power of Imagination,

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact:

One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold;
That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.
The poct's eye, in a fine phrenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
And, as imagination bodies forth [heaven;
Turns them to fhapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

Simpleness and modeft Duty always acceptable.
Philoft. No, my noble lord,

It is not for you: I have heard it over,
And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Unless you can find fport in their intents,
Extremely ftretch'd, and conn'd with cruel pain,
To do you fervice.

Thef. I will hear that play :
For never any thing can be amifs,
When fimplenefs and duty tender it.

Hip. I love not to fee wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his fervice perifhing.

Thef. Why, gentle fweet, you fhall fee no fuch thing.

Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake:
And what poor duty cannot do,

Noble refpect takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purpofed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have feen them fhiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practis'd accents in their fears,
And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Truft me, sweet,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
Out of this filence, yet, I pick'd a welcome:

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
Of faucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied fimplicity,
In least, speak moft, to my capacity.

Clock.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Night

Night.

Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilft the heavy ploughman fnores,
All with weary task fore-done.
Now the wafted brands do glow,
Whilft the fcritch-owl, fcritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,

In remembrance of a throud.
Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his fpright,

In the church-way paths to glide: And we Fairies, that do run,

By the triple Hccar's team,
From the prefence of the fun,

Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic; not a moufe
Shall difturb this hallow'd houfe:
I am fent with broom, before,
To fweep the dust behind the door.

§ 9. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. SHAKSPEARE.

BUT

Peace infpires Love.

now I am return'd, and that war thoughts Have left their places vacant, in their rooms Come thronging foft and delicate defires, All prompting me how fair young Hero is. Friendship in Love.

Friendship is conftant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love : Therefore, all hearts in love ufe their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself,

And truft no agent; for beauty is a witch,
Against whofe charms faith melteth into blood.
Merit always modeft.

It is the witnefs ftill of excellency,
To put a ftrange face on his own perfection.
A Song.

Sigh no more, ladies, figh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in fea, and one on fhore,
To one thing conftant never:
Then figh not fo,

But let them go,

And be you blith and bonny';
Converting all your founds of woe

Into, Hey nonny, nonny.

Favourites compared to Honey-fuckles, &c.

-Bid her fteal into the pleached bower, Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the fun, Forbid the fun to enter; like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it.

Scheme to captivate Beatrice.

Let it be thy part

To praife him more than ever man did merit:
My talk to thee muft be, how Benedick
Is fick in love with Beatrice: Of this matter
Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearfay,

Angling, &c.

The pleafant'ft angling is to fee the fish Cut with her golden oars the filver ftream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait: So angle we for Beatrice.

A fcornful and fatirical Beauty. Nature never fram'd a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. Difdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Mifprifing what they look on; and her wit Values itfelf fo highly, that to her

All matter clfe feems weak; fhe cannot love, Nor take no fhape, nor project of affection, She is fo felf-endeared.

I never yet faw man,

How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But he would fpell him backward: if fair fac'd,
She'd fwear the gentleman fhould be her fifter;
If black, why, nature, drawing of an antick,
Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agate very vilely cut;

If fpeaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If filent, why, a block, moved with none.
So turns the ev'ry man the wrong fide out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which fimplenefs and merit purchaseth.
Slandering the Object, a Way to defroy Affection.

No; rather I will go to Benedick,

And counfel him to fight against his passion ;
And, truly, I'll devife fome honeft flanders,
To ftain my coufin with; one doth not know,
How much an ill word may empoifon liking,
Beatrice's Recantation.

What fire is in mine cars? Can this be true?

Stand I condemn'd for pride and fcorn fo much? Contempt, farewel! and maiden pride, adieu ! No glory lives behind the back of fuch. And, Benedick, love on, I will requite thee, Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand: If thou doft love, my kindness fhall incite thee To bind our loves up in a holy band: For others fay, thou doft deferve; and I Believe it better than reportingly.

Diffimulation.

O, what authority and fhew of truth
Can cunning fin cover itself withal !
Comes not that blood, as modeft evidence,
To witnefs fimple virtue? Would you not fwear,
All you that fee her, that the were a maid,
By the 'e exterior fhews But fhe is none;
She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
Her blush is guiltiness, not modefty.
Female Seeming.

I never tempted her with word too large
But, as a brother to a fifter, thew'd
Bafhful fincerity, and comely love.

Her. And feem'd I ever otherwise to you? Clau. Out on thy feeming! I will write against it: You feem to me as Dian in her orb;

As chatte as is the bud ere it be blown;

But you are more intemperate in your blood

[ocr errors]

Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in favage fenfuality.

An injured Lover's Abjuration of Love.
O Hero! what a hero hadft thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been plac'd
About the thoughts and counfels of thy heart!
But fare thee well, moft foul, most fair! farewel,
Thou pure impiety, and impious purity!
For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love,
And on my eye-lids fhall conjecture hang,
To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
And never fhall it more be gracious.

A Father lamenting his Daughter's Infamy.
Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes:
For, did I think thou wouldft not quickly die,
Thought I thy fpirits were ftronger than thy
fhames,

Myfelf would, on the rearward of reproaches,
Strike at thy life.-Griev'd I, I had but one?
Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame ?
O, one too much by thee! why had I one?
Why ever waft thou lovely in my eves?
Why had I not, with charitable hand,
Took up a beggar's iffue at my gates?
Who fincared thus, and mir'd with infamy,
I might have faid, "No part of it is mine;
This thame derives itfelf from unknown loins."
But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd,
And mine that I was proud on; mine fo much,
That I myself was to myfelf not mine,
Valuing of her; why, the- -O fhe is fallen
Into a pit of ink! that the wide fea

Hath drops too few to wath her clean again;
And falt too little, which may feafon give
To her foul tainted fieth!

Innocence difcovered by Countenance.
-I have mark'd

A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face; a thousand innocent fhames,
In angel whitenefs, bear away those blushes ;
And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire,
To burn the errors that thefe princes hold
Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
Truft not my reading, nor my obfervations,
Which with experimental feal doth warrant
The tenour of my book; trust not my age,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
If this fweet lady lie not guiltless here
Under fome biting error.

Refolution.

I know not if they fpeak but truth of her, Thefe hands fhall tear her if they wrong her honour,

The proudeft of them fhall well hear of it.
Time hath not yet fo dried this blood of mine,
Nor age fo eat up my invention,

Nor fortune made fuch havoc of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me fo much of friends,
But they thall find, awak'd in such a kind,
Both ftrength of limb, and policy of mind,
Ability in means, and choice of friends,
To quit me of them throughly.

[ocr errors]

27

The Defire of loved Objects beightened by their
Lofs.

This, well carried, fhall on her behalf
Change flander to remorfe; that is fome good:
But not for that dream I on this strange course,
But on this travail look for greater birth.
She dying, as it must be fo maintain'd,
Upon the inftant that the was accus'd,
Shall be lamented, pity'd, and excus'd,
Of ev'ry hearer: For it fo falls out,

That what we have, we prize not to the worth
While we enjoy it; but being lack'd and loft,
Why, then we rack the value; then we find
The virtue that poffeffion would not fhew us
Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio:
When he fhall hear the died upon his words,
The idea of her life thall fweetly creep
Into his study of imagination;
And ev'ry lovely organ of her life
Shall come apparel'd in more precious habit,
More moving, delicate, and full of life,
Into the eye and profpect of his foul,

Than when the liv'd indeed. Then fhall he mourn
(If ever love had intereft in his liver),
And with he had not fo accused her;
No, though he thought his accufation true.
Let this be fo, and doubt not but fuccefs
Will fashion the event in better shape
Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
But if all aim but this be levell'd falfe,
The fuppofition of the lady's death
Will quench the wonder of her infamy;
And, if it fort not well, you may conceal her
(As beft befits her wounded reputation)
In fome reclufive and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
Leon. Being that

I flow in grief, the fmalleft twine may lead me.
Counsel of no Weight in Mifery.

I pray thee, ceafe thy counfel,
Which falls into my ears as profitlefs
As water in a fieve: give not me counsel;
Nor let no comforter delight mine car,

But fuch a one whose wrongs do fuit with mine,
Bring me a father that fo lov'd his child,
Whofe joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him fpeak of patience;

Measure his love the length and breadth of mine,
And let it anfwer ev'ry ftrain for ftrain;
As thus for thus, and fuch a grief for fuch,
In ev'ry lineament, branch, shape, and form:
If fuch a one will fmile and ftroke his beard;
In forrow wag; cry, hem, when he fhould groan;
Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk
With candle-wafters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.

But there is no fuch man: for, brother, men
Can counfel, and give comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tafting it,
Their counfel turns to paffion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter ftrong madness in a filken thread,
Charm ach with air, and agony with words.
No, no; 'tis all men's office to fpeak patience

To

[ocr errors]

To thofe that wring under the load of forrow;
But no man's virtue, nor fufficiency,
To be fo inoral when he shall endure
The like himfelf: therefore give me no counfel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ.

Leo. I pray thee, peace; I will be flesh and blood; For there was never yet philofopher, That could endure the tooth-ach patiently; However they have writ the ftyle of Gods, And made a pish at change and sufferance.

An aged Father's Refentment of Scandal.
Tufh, tufh, man, never fleer and jeft at me :
I speak not like a dotard, nor a fool;
As, under privilege of age, to brag
What I have done, being young, or what would do,
Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head,
Thou haft fo wrong'd my innocent child, and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my rev'rence by;
And, with grey hairs, and bruife of many days,
To challenge thee to trial of a man.

I fay thou haft belied mine innocent child;
Thy flander hath gone through and through her
And the lies buried with her ancestors: [heart,
O! in a tomb where never fcandal slept,
Save this of hers, fram'd by thy villainy.
Talking Braggarts.

Cla. Away, I will not have to do with you. Leo. Canft thou fo daffe me? Thou haft kill'd my child;

If thou kill'ft me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
Ant. He fhall kill two of us, and men indeed:
But that's no matter; let him kill one firft;—
Win me, and wear me,-let him anfwer mc:
Come, follow me, boy: come, Sir boy, come, fol-

low me;

Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foyning fence; Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leo. Brother

[nicee; Ant. Content yourself. God knows, I lov'd my And the is dead; flander'd to death by villains; That dare as well anfwer a man, indeed, As I dare-take a ferpent by the tongue : Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milk-fops!Leo. Brother Anthony. [them, yea, Ant. Hold you content; what, man! I know And what they weigh, even to the utmoft fcruple: Scambling, out-facing, fathion-mongring boys, That lic, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander, Go antickly, and thew outward hidcoufnefs, And fpeak off half a dozen dang'rous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durft; And this is all.

No Valour in a bad Caufe.

In a falfe quarrel there's no true valour.
Villain to be noted.

Which is the villain? let me fee his eyes;
That when I note another man like him,
I may avoid him.

Dirge on Hero's Death by Slander.
Done to death by fland'rous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies!

[blocks in formation]

And fetch fhrill echoes from the hollow earth.
Painting.

Doft thou love pictures? we will fetch thee Adonis, painted by a running brook; [ftraight And Citherea all in fedges hid;

Which feem to move, and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving fedges play with wind.

Mirth and Merriment, its Advantage. Seeing too much fadnefs hath congeal'd your blood,

And melancholy is the nurfe of phrenzy, Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. The Ufes of Travel and Study.

Luc. Tranio, fince-for the great defire I had To fee fair Padua, nursery of arts-I am arriv'd from fruitful Lombardy, The pleasant garden of great Italy; And, by my father's love and leave, am arm' With his good will, and thy good company, My trufty fervant, well approv'd in all; Here let us breathe, and happily inftitute A courfe of learning and ingenious ftudies. Pifa, renowned for grave citizens, Gave me my being, and my father first, A merchant of great traffick thro' the world Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii. Vincentio's fon, brought up in Florence, It fhall become, to ferve all hopes conceiv'd, To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds: And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy, Virtue, and that part of philofophy Will I apply, that treats of happiness By virtue 'pecially to be achiev'd. Tell me thy mind: for I have Pifa left, And am to Padua come: as he that leaves A fhallow plafh, to plunge him in the deep, And with fatiety feeks to quench his thirst. Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle mafter mine, I am in all affected as yourfeif; Glad that you thus continue your refolve, To fuck the fweets of fweet philofophy. Only, good mafter, while we do admire This virtue, and this moral difcipline, Let's be no ftoicks, nor no stocks, I Or fo devote to Ariftotle's checks, As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd:

pray;

Talk

Talk logic with acquaintance that you have,
And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
Mufic and poefy ufe to quicken you;
The mathematics, and the metaphyfics,
Fall to them as you find your ftomach ferves you:
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;-
In brief, Sir, ftudy what you most affect.

Love at fift Sight.

Tra. I pray, Sir, tell me,-is it poffible,
That love fhould of a fudden take fuch hold?.

Luc. Oh, Tranio, till I found it to be true,
I never thought it poffible, or likely;
But fee! while idly I ftood looking on,
I found the effect of love in idleness:
And now in plainnefs du confefs to thee,-
That art to me as fecret and as dear
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was-,
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
If I achieve not this young modest girl:
Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canft;
Affift me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

Tra. Mafter, it is no time to chide you now;
Affection is not rated from the heart:

If love have touch'd you, nought remains but fo,
Redime te captum quảm queas minimé.
Travel.

Such wind as fcatters young men thro' the
world,

To feek their fortunes farther than at home,
Where fmall experience grows.

Woman's Tongue.

Think you, a little din can daunt my ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the fea, puffed up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field?
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard [clang?
Loud larums, neighing fteeds, and trumpets
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue?
That gives not half so great a blow to the ear,
As will a chefnut in a farmer's fire?

Extremes cure each other.

Where two raging fires meet together,
They do confume the thing that feeds their fury:
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gufts will blow out fire and all.

Beauty.

Say that the frown; I'll fay fhe looks as clear
As morning rofes newly wath'd with dew..
Mufic.

Prepofterous afs! that never read fo far,
To know the caufe why mufic was ordain'd!
Was it not, to refresh the mind of man,
After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philofophy,
And, while I paufe, ferve in your harmony.
Wife married to all ber Husband's Fortunes.
To me fhe's married, not unto my clothes:
Could I repair what fhe will wear in me,
As I can change these poor accoutrements,
'Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.

Defcription of a mad Wedding.
-When the priest

Should ask if Catharine fhould be his wife; [loud,
"Ay, by gogs-woons," quoth he, and fwore fo
That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book :
And, as he ftoop'd again to take it up,
This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him fuch a
cuff,
[prieft;
That down fell prieft and book, and book and
"Now take them up," quoth he, "if any lift."
Tran. What faid the wench when he rofe up
again?
[ftamp'd and fwore,
Grem. Trembled and fhook; for why, he
As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine:

"A health," quoth he; as if he had been aboard,
Caroufing to his mates after a ftorm:
Quaff'd off the mufcadel, and threw the fops
All in the fexton's face; having no other reafon,
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly,
And feem'd to ask his fops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck,
That, at the parting, all the church did echo.
And kifs'd her lips with fuch a clamorous fmack,
Petruchio's Trial of his Wife in the Article of Drefs..
Hab. Here is the cap your worship did befpeak.
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish ;-fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnut-fhell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap;
Away with it; come, let me have a bigger.

Cath. I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the
time,

And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as thefe.
Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one
And not till then.

[too, [fpeak;

Hor. That will not be in hafte.
Cath. Why, Sir, I truft, I may have leave to
Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind;
And fpeak I will; I am no child, no babe:
And, if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart;
Or elfe my heart, concealing it, will break:
And rather than it fhall, I will be free,
Even to the uttermoft, as I please, in words.

Pct. Why, thou fay 'ft true; it is a paltry cap,
A cuftard coffin, a bauble, a filken pye:
I love thee well, in that thou lik'ft it not.
Cath. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap;
And it I will have, or I will have none.

[fee't.
Pet. Thy gown? why, ay, come, taylor, let us
O, mercy, God! what making ftuff is here?
What's this? a fleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
What! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart?
Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flifh, and flash,
Like to a cenfer in a barber's fhop:

this?

Why, what, o' devil's name, taylor, call'st thou
Hor. I fee, fhe's like to have neither cap nor
[gown.
Tayl. You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion, and the time.
Pet. Marry, and did; but, if
you
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go hop me over every kennel home,

be remem

[ber'd,

For

« ПретходнаНастави »