Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it; DAYBREAK. Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to church-yards. ACT IV. DEW IN FLOWERS. And that same dew, which sometime on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flow'rets' eyes, Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail. HUNTING. We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once * Sound. HOUNDS. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls, Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with norn. ACT V. THE POWER OF IMAGINATION. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen SIMPLICITY AND DUTY. For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his service perishing. MODEST DUTY ALWAYS ACCEPTABLE. Where I have come, great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, Make periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears, And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome: Trust me, sweet. * The flews are the large chaps of a hound. † Are made of mere imagination. Out of this silence, yet, I pick'd a welcome; I read as much, as from the rattling tongue TIME. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. NIGHT. Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, That the graves, all gaping wide, In the church-way paths to glide. BUT now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it; That know love's grief by his complexion! The fairest grant is the necessity: Look, what will serve, is fit: 'tis once,* thou lov'st; I know we shall have revelling to-night; And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart. ACT II. FRIENDSHIP IN LOVE. Friendship is constant in all other things, And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, MERIT ALWAYS MODEST. It is the witness still of excellency, BENEDICT THE BACHELOR'S RECANTATION. This can be no trick: The conference was sadly borne.-They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me! why it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her, they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection.-I did never think to marry:-I must not seem proud:-Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending. They say, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness: and virtuous;-'tis sn, I † Passion. * Once for all. cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me:-) -By my troth, it is no addition to her wit;-nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage:-But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age: Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: the world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.Here comes Beatrice: by this day, she's a fair lady I do spy some marks of love in her. ACT III. FAVOURITES COMPARED TO HONEYSUCKLES Bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter;-like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride, Against that power that bred it. A SCORNFUL AND SATIRICAL BEAUTY. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, All matter else seems weak: she cannot love, I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, If speaking, why, a vane blown with all wind: * Undervaluing |