Dost thou love pictures; we will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook: And Cytherea all in sedges hid; Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving sedges play with wind. WOMAN'S TONGUE. Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears? Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? E THE MIND ALONE VALUABLE. For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich: What is the jay more precious than the lark, Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye? Fie, fie THE WIFE'S DUTY TO HER HUSBAND. unknit that threatening, unkind brow, A woman moved, is like a fountain troubled, Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. To painful labour, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, Appeareth. And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, What is she but a foul contending rebel, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. But that our soft conditions* and our hearts TEMPEST. CALIBAN'S CURSES. Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycombs, each pinch more stinging This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first *Gentle tempers. Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst Water with berries in't; and teach me how [give me To name the bigger light, and how the less, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile; Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me MUSIC. Where should this music be? i'the air, or the earth? ARIEL'S SONG. Full fathom five thy father lies; Into something rich and strange. Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell. Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell. SLEEP. Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow: when it doth, DESCRIPTION OF FERDINAND SWIMMING ASHORE. I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark For every trifle are they set upon me: Sometime like apes, that moe* and chatter at me, * Make mouths. |