Concealed Love.

Duke. There is no woman's fides,
Can bide the beating of fo ftrong a paffion,
As love doth give my heart: no woman's heart
So big, to hold fo much; they lack retention.
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite-
No motion of the liver, but the palate,-
That fuffers furfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the fea,

And can digest as much: make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.

Vio. Ay, but I know→

Duke. What doft thou know?

Vio. Too well what love women to men may In faith, they are as true of heart as we. [owe; My father had a daughter lov'd a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I fhould your lordship.

Duke. And what's her history? [love, Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek: fhe pin'd in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She fat, like patience on a monument, Siniling at grief.

A Fehler.

This fellow is wife enough to play the fool; And to do that well, craves a kind of wit: He muft obferve their mood on whom he jefts, The quality of perfons, and the time; And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice, As full of labour as a wife man's art: For folly, that he wifely fhews, is fit; But wife men's folly fall'n, quite taints their wit. Flattery, its ill Effects.

My fervant, Sir! 'Twas never merry world, Since lowly-feigning was called compliment. Unfought Love.

By

Cefario, by the roles of the fpring,

maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, 1 love thee fo, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reafon, can my pafiion hide. Do not extort thy reafons from this claufe, For hat I woo, thou therefore haft no caufe: But rather reafon thus with reafon fetter: Love fought is good, but giv'n unfought is better. Ingratitude.

Ant. Is 't poffible, that my deferts to you Can lack perfuafion Do not tempt my mifery, Left that it make me fo unfound a man, As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you.

Vio. I know of none;

Nor know I you by voice, or any feature:

§ 13.

Val.

THE TWO GENTLEMEN VERONA.

OF

SHAKSPEARE.

The Advantages of Travel, &c. al.CEASE to perfuade, my loving Protheus; Wer't not affection chains thy tender days [wita: Home-keeping youth have ever homely To the fweet glances of thy honour'd love,

I rather would intreat thy company,
To fee the wonders of the world abroad,
Than, living dully fluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with thapelefs idlenefs.
But, fince thou lov'ft, love still, and thrive therein;
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine,
adieu !

Think on thy Protheus, when thou haply fecft
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
With me partaker in thy happiness,
When thou doft meet good-hap; and, in thy
If ever danger do environ thee, [danger
Commend thy grievance to my
holy prayers,
For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.
The Evils of being in Love.
To be in love, where fcorn is bought with
[moment's mirth,
Coy looks, with heart-fore fighs; one fading
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain:
If loft, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or elle a wit by folly vanquished.

groans,

War

A Lover's Banifhment.

And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myfelf; And Silvia is myfelf. Banifh'd from her, Is felf from felf; a deadly banishment ! What light is light, if Silvia be not feen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Unless it be to think that the is by, And feed upon the fhadow of perfection, Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no mufic in the nightingale ; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon. She is my effence; and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherith'd, kept alive.

A beautiful Perfon petitioning (in vain). Av, and the hath offer'd to the doom ay; (Which unrevers'd, ftands in effectual force), A fea of melting pearl, which fome call tears: Thofe at her father's churlish feet fhe tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble felf, Wringing her hands, whofe whitenefs fo became As if but now they waxed pale for woe: [them, But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad fighs, deep groans, nor filver-thedding tears, Could penetrate her uncompaffionate fire.

Hope.

Hope is a lover's ftatf'; walk hence with that; And manage it against defpairing thoughts.

Love compared to a Figure on Ice. This weak imprefs of love is as a figure Trenched in iee; which with an hour's heat Diffolves to water, and doth lofe his form.

Three Things hated by Women.

Pro. The best way is, to flander Valentine With falfehood, cowardice, and poor defcent: Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is fpoke in Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it muft, with circumftance, be fpoken By one, whom the cftecmeth as his friend.

[hate.

The Power of Poetry with Women. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty You facrifice your tears, your fighis, your heart: Write, till your ink be dry; and with your tears Moift it again; and frame fome feeling line, That may difcover fuch integrity :For Orpheus' lute was ftrung with poet's finews; Whofe golden touch could foften steel and stones, Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans Forfake unfounded decps to dance on fands, Song.

Who is Silvia? what is fhe,

That all our fwains commend her? Holy, fair, and wife is the;

The heavens fuch grace did lend her,

That the might admired be.

Is the kind as he is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness: Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness; And, being help'd, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us fing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull carth dwelling:
To her let us garlands bring.
A Lover's Reft.

Jul. And fo, good reft.
Pro. As wretches have o'er night,
That wait for execution in the morn
True Love.

Thyfelf haft lov'd; and I have heard thee fay,
No grief did ever come fo near thy heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
Upon whofe grave thou vow'dit pure chastity,
Beauty neglected and loft.

But fince she did neglect her looking-glafs,
And threw her fun-expelling mafk away,
The air hath ftary'd the roles in her cheeks,
And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face.
The Power of Action.

And, at that time I made her weep a-good,
For I did play a lamentable part:
Madam, 'twas Ariadne, paffioning
For Thefeus' perjury, and unjuft flight;
Which I fo lively acted with my tears,
That my poor miftrefs, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and, would I might be dead,
If I in thought felt not her very forrow!

Women facred, even to Banditti.
Fear not;, he bears an honourable mind,
And will not ufe a woman lawlefsly.
A Lover in Solitude.

How ufe doth breed a habit in a man!
This fhadowy defert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns &
Here can I fit alone, unfeen of any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes
Tune my diftreffes, and record my woes.
O, thou that doft inhabit in my breaft,
Leave not the manfion fo long tenantlefs;
Left, growing ruinous, the building fail,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy prefence, Silvia;
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn fwain.
Love unreturned.

What dang 'rous action, stood it next to death, Would I not undergo for one calin look ? O, 'tis the curfe in love, and ftill approv'd, When women cannot love where they're belov'd. Infidelity in a Friend, and Reconciliation on Repentance.

Val. Treacherous man!
Thou haft beguild my hopes; nought but minceye
Could have perfuaded me: now I dare not fay,
I have one friend alive; thou wouldft difprove me.
Who should be trufted, when one's own right hand
Is perjur'd to the bofom? Protheus,

I ain forry, I must never truft thee more,
But count the world a ftranger for thy fake.
The private wound is deepest.

Pro. My fhame, and guilt, confounds mc. Forgive me, Valentine: i hearty forrow

Now my fworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parafite, my foldier, ftatefman, all:
He makes a July's day fhort as December;
And, with his varying childnefs, cures in me
Thoughts that fhould thick my blood.
Faithful Service.

Cam. In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,
It was my folly; if induftrioufly
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end: if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the iffue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wifeft: thefe, my lord
Are fuch allow'd infirmities, that honefty
Is never free of.

Jealousy.

Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning check to check is meeting nofes?
Kiffing with infide lip? ftopping the career
Of laughter with a figh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honefly :) horfing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners withing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs, theirs only,
That would, unfeen, be wicked? Is this nothing?
Why, then the world, and all that 's in 't, is no
thing;

The covering fky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have thefe no-
If this be nothing.
[things

King-killing deteftable.

To do this deed

Promotion follows: If I could find example
Of thoufands that had truck anointed kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't⚫ but fince
Nor brafs, nor ftone, nor parchment, bears not one,
Let villainy itself forfwear it.

The Effects of Jealousy.
Is for a precious creature: as fhe's rare,
This jealouty
Muft it be great; and, as his perfon's mighty,
Muft it be violent; and as he does conceive
He is difhonour'd by a man, which ever
Profelled to him, why, his revenges muft
In that be made more bitter.

Knowledge fometimes hurtful. There may be in the cup A fpider fteep'd, and one may drink; depart, And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge Is not infected: but if one prefent

Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his fides, With violent hefts.

Calumny.

Praife her but for this her without-door form (Which, on my faith, deferves high speech), and fraight

The fhrug, the hum, or ha; thefe petty brands,
That calumny doth ufe :-O! I am out,
That mercy does; for calumny will fear

Altho' the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father, eye, nofe, lip,
The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and check; his
fimiles;

The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:-
And thou, good goddefs nature, which haft made it
So like to him that got it, if thou haft
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow in't; left the fufpect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's !

An Infant to be expofed.

Come on, poor babe :

Some pow'rful fpirit inftruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurfès! Wolves and bears, they fay,
Cafting their favageness afide, have done
Like offices of pity.

Hermione pleading her Innocence.
If pow'rs divine

Behold our human actions (as they do),
I doubt not then, but innocence fhall make
Falfe accufation bluth, and tyranny
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, beft know,
(Who leaft will feem to do fo) my past life
Hath been as continent, as chafte, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devis'd,
And play'd, to take spectators: for behold me,—
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe

A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince,-here standing,
To prate and talk for life, and honour, 'fore
Who pleafe to come and hear. For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief, which I would fpare; for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I ftand for. I appeal

To your own confcience, Sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be fo; fince he came,
With what encounter fo uncurrent I
Have ftrain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond
That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
The bound of honour; or, in act, or will,
Of all that hear me, and my near ̊st of kin
Cry, fic, upon my grave!

A Wife's Lofs of all Things dear, and Contempt of Death,

Leo. Look for no lefs than death.

Her. Sir, fpare your threats;

The bug, which you would fright me with, I feek. To me can life be no cominodity:

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
I do give loft; for I do feel it gone,

But know not how it went. My fecond joy,
And firft-fruits of my body, from his prefence
I am barr'd, like one infectious: my third comfort,
Starr'd moft unluckily, is from my breast,
The innocent milk in its moft innocent mouth,
Haled out to murther. Myfelf on ev'ry poft
Proclaim'd a ftrumpet; with immodeft hatred,
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fathion, laftly, hurried
Here to this place, i' the open air, before
I have got ftrength of limit. Now, my licge,
Tell me what bleffings I have here alive,
That I fhould fear to dig? therefore, proceed.
But yet hear this; miftake me not;-no! life,
I prize it not a straw: but for mine honour,
(Which I would free) if I fhall be condemned
Upon furmifes; all proofs fleeping elfe,
But what your jealoufies awake; I tell you,
'Tis rigour, and not law.

May walk again: if fuch thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one fide, fome another;
I never faw a veffel of like forrow,
So fill'd, and fo becoming: in pure white robes,
Like very fanctity, fhe did approach
My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me
And, galping to begin fore fpeech, her eyes
Became two fpouts: the fury fpent, anon
Did this break from her: "Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better difpofition,
Hath made thy perfon for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,-
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,