Imágenes de páginas

Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful

prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee likc

osiers bowed. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine

eyesz Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend;

270 If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall

suffice; Well learned' is that tongue, that well can thee

commend : All ignorant that soul that sees thee without

wonder ; (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts

admire) Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dread

ful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet

fire, Celestial as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, Thạt sings the heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue!

278 Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent : let me supervişe the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratify'd; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret.

Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso ; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of inventionImitari, is nothing ; so doth the Eiij


hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But damosella virgin, was this directed to you?

288 Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snow white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto :

Your ladyship's in all desired employment, BIRON. Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarry'd. Trip and go, my sweet ; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king ; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu. 303

Faq. Good Costard, go with me.--Sir, God save your

life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl.

[Exeunt Cos. and JaQ. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and as a certain father saith

Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father,' I do fear co. lourable colours.' But, to return to the verses's Did they please you, Sir Nathaniel ?

311 Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if (being repast) it shall please

you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforesaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention : I beseech your society.

320 Nath. And thank you too: for society (saith the text) is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.—Sir, I do invite you too ; [To Dull.] you shall not say me, nay : pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation.



Enter Biron with a Paper.

Biron. The king is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself : they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch ; pitch, that defiles ; defile ! a foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so, they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well prov’d, wit! By the lord, this love is as mad as Ajax : it kills sheep ; it kills me, I a sheep: Well prov'd again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her ; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhime, and here my melancholy. Well, she kath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lądy hath it : sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I. would not care a pin, if the other three were in : Here comes one with a paper : God give him grace to groani


(He stands aside.

Enter the King, King. Ay me!

848 Biron. [ Aside. ] Shot, by heaven!Proceed, sweet Cupid ; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap :- I' faith secrets.

King. [Reads.) So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives


To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy cye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote

The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright

Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth tky face through tears of mine give light;

Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
No drop but as a coach doth carry

thee, So ridest thou triumphing in my woe; Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will shew :
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.


O queen

O queen of queens, how far dost thou excet !
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.-

How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?

[The King steps aside.


What, Longaville ! and reading! listen, ear. 370 Biron. [ Aside.] Now in thy likeness, one more

fool, appear! Long. Ay me! I am forsworn. Biron. ·[ Aside.] Why, he comes in like a perjure,

wearing papers. King. [ Aside. ] In love, I hope ; sweet fellowship in

shame! Biron. [Aside.] One drunkard loves another of the


Long. [ Aside. ] Am I the first, that have been per

jur'd so? Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not

by two, that I know : Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner cap of society, The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up sim,

plicity. Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to

380 O sweet Maria, empress of my love ! These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

move :

« AnteriorContinuar »