Pray you, Emilia,

Commend my best obedience to the queen;
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I'll show't the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to the loudest: We do not know
How he may soften at the sight of the child;
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.

EXPOSING AN INFANT.

Come on, poor babe :

Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens,
To be thy nurses! Wolves, and bears, they say,
Casting their savageness aside, have done
Like offices of pity.

ACT III.

INNOCENCE.

INNOCENCE shall make

False accusation blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience.

That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd
To loss, and what may follow!-Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds: and most accurs'd am I,
To be by oath enjoin'd to this.-Farewell!

The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have
A lullaby too rough.

A CLOWN'S DESCRIPTION OF A WRECK.

I would, you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! but that's not to the point: O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em: now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast; and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land service,To see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman:-But to make an end of the ship:-to see how the sea flap-dragoned it :--but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them; -and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather.

* Swallowed.

DESPAIR OF PARDON.

But, O, thou tyrant!

Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

DESCRIPTION OF A GHOST APPEARING IN A DREAM.

I have heard (but not believ'd) the spirits of the dead
May walk again: if such 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 side, some another;
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,

So fill'd, and so becoming in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach

My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me:
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,-
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,

There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,

I pr'ythee, call't; for this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina more:—and so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,

I did in time collect myself; and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys;
Yet for this once, yea superstitiously,
I will be squar'd by this.

ACT IV.

A GARLAND FOR OLD MEN.

REVEREND sirs,

For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep
Seeming, and savour*, all the winter long:
Grace, and remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing!

Per.

NATURE AND ART.

Sir, the year growing ancient,— Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter,-the fairest flowers of the season Are our carnations, and streak'd gilliflowers, Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them.

Pol.

Do you neglect them?

Per.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Fort I have heard it said,

There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares
With great creating nature.

Pol.

Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art,

-Which you say, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry

A gentler scion to the wildest stock;

And make conceive a bark of baser kind

By bud of nobler race; This is an art

Which does mend nature,—change it rather: but The art itself is nature.

A GARLAND FOR MIDDLE-AGED MEN.

I'll not put

The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;

*Likeness and smell.
A tool to set plants.

+ Because that.

[fore

No more than, were I painted, I would wish
This youth should say, 'twere well; and only there-
Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ;

The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age.

A GARLAND FOR YOUNG MEN.

Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing.

Per.

Out, alas!

You'd be so lean, that blasts of January

Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fairest friend,

I would, I had some flowers o' the spring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours;
That wear upon your virgin branches yet

Your maidenheads growing:-O, Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend,
To strew him o'er and o'er.

A LOVER'S COMMENDATION.

What you do,

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,

I'd have you do it ever: when you sing,

I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms;

* Pluto.