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Come ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.
DOUGLAS SOLILOQUY IN THE WOOD.
This is the place, the centre of the grove ;
Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood.
How sweet and solemn is this midnight scene!
The silver moon, unclouded, holds her way
Thro' skies, where I could count each little star.
The fanning west-wind scarcely stirs the leaves ;
The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed,
Imposes silence with a stilly sound.
In such a place as this, at such an hour,
If ancestry can be in aught believ'd,
Descending spirits have convers’d with man,
And told the secrets of the world unknown.
LORENZO AND JESSICA.
Lor. The moon shines bright :-In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise; in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
Jess. In such a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.
Lor. In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea—banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.
Jess. In such a night,
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old Æson.
Lor. In such a night,
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.
Jess. And in such a night,
Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well ;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.
Lor. And in such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
Jess. I would outnight you, did nobody come:
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.
CHEERFULNESS. Cheerfulness, (which is tranquillity a little raised) adds to the latter a smile, and opens the mouth somewhat more.
It is admirably personified by Collins, in his Ode on the Passions.
Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue,
Her bow across her shoulders flung,
Her buskins gem'd with morning dew,
Blew an inspiring air, that dale
and thicket rung,
The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known.
The oak-crown'd Sisters, and their chaste-ey'd Queen,
Satyrs and sylvan boys were seen,
Peeping from forth their allies green:
Brown Exercise rejoic'd to hear;
And Sport leap'd up, and seized his beachen spear. ROMEO, EXPECTING GOOD NEWS FROM JULIET.
If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand;
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
-I dream't, my lady came and found me dead:
(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to think,)
Ànd breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I revived, and was an Emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ?
DUKE TO HIS COMPANIONS IN EXILE.
Now my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court!
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season's difference; as the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even 'till I shrink with cold I smile and say,
This is no flattery. These are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity!
Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head !
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
-Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
EARL OF RICHMOND TO HIS OFFICERS.
The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard ;-
Sir William Herbert, stay with me;
The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment;
Good Captain Blount, bear my good night to him,
And by the second hour in the morning,
Desire the Earl to see me in my tent.
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business;
Into my tent, the air is raw and cold.
ACASTO RETURNING FROM HUNTING,
To-day has been a day of glorious sport;
When you, Castalio, and your brother, left me,
Forth from the thickets rush'd another boar,
So large, he seem'd the tyrant of the woods,
With all his dreadful bristles rais'd up high,
They seem'd a grove of spears upon his back;
Foaming he came at me, where I was posted,
Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase,
Whetting his huge large tusks, and gaping wide,
As he already had me for his prey!
Till, brandishing my well-prized javelin high,
With this bold executing arm I struck
The ugly brindled monster to the heart.
Was't not glorious sport ?
KING HENRY V. TO HIS OFFICERS.
Good morrow, brother Bedford ; God Almighty,
There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out;
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful and good husbandry;
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all ; admonishing
That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Thus we may gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself.
Upon example, so the spirit is eased ;
And, when the mind is quicken'd out of doubt,
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move
With casted slough, and fresh celerity:
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas ; brothers both,
Commend me to the princes in our camp ;
Do my good morrow to them, and anon,
Desire them all to my pavilion.
BELLARIUS TO GUILDERIUS AND ARVIRAGUS.
A goodly day, not to keep house with such
Who's roof's as low as ours; See, boys! this gate
Instructs you how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you
To morning's holy office. The gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet through,
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven!
We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly,
As prouder livers do. Cheerfulness, in its highest state, sometimes borders on mirth; as in the following example.
MERCUTIO RALLYING ROMEO ON HIS LOVE.
Nay, I'll conjure too,
Romeo! humours ! madman! passion ! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied ;
Cry but ah me! couple but love and dove.
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir ;-
-I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
MIRTH. Mirth, when accompanied by laughter, opens still more than cheerfulness, the mouth towards the ears, crisps the nose, lessens the aperture of the eyes, and sometimes fills them with tears, shaking and convulsing, when violent, the whole frame, and giving in that state considerable pain; which occasions holding the sides. Milton invokes mirth, in his Allegro, in the following beautifully poetic language :
MILTON'S INVOCATION OF MIRTH.
-Come, thou goddess, fair and free,
In heav'n yclept Euphrosyné,
And by men, heart-easing mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth,
With two sister graces more,
To ivy crowned Bacchus bore,
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful jollity.
Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to lie in dimple sleek,
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter, holding both his sides.
MERCUTIO'S DESCRIPTION OF THE FAIRY MAB.
0, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you,
- She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the fore finger of an alderman;
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.
Her waggon spokes, made of long spinners' legs ;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's watry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone, the lash, of film ;
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
-Her chariot is an empty hazle nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairy's coachmakers.
And in this state she gallop's night by night
Through lover's brains, and then they dream of love ;
On courtier's knees, that dream on court’sies straight;
O’er lawyer's fingers, who straight dream on fees;
O’er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;
-Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then he dreams of smelling out a suit.
And sometimes comes she with a tythe-pig's tail,
Tickling the parson's as 'a lies asleep;
Then dreams he of another benefice;
Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscades, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then, anon,
Drums in his ear, at which he starts, and wakes,
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again.
WITTOLL TO SHARPER-OLD BATCHELOR. Ha! ha! ha! a very good jest I profess; ha! ha! ha! a very good jest; and I did not know that I had said it, and that's a better jest than tother, 'tis a sign you and I ha’nt been long acquainted; you have lost a good jest for want of knowing me: I only mean a friend of mine whom I calì my back; he sticks as close to me, and follows me through all dangers; he is indeed back, breast, and head-piece, as it were to me, egad, he's a brave fellow. Paugh, I'm quite another thing when I'm with him. I do’nt fear the devil (bless us) almost, if he be by. O, here a' comes. [Enter Capt. Bluff.
Ay, my Hector of Troy, welcome my bully, my back; egad, my heart has gone pit a pat for thee-Ha! ha! ha!
FAIRY, ROBIN'S GOODFELLOW.
Thou speak’st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night:
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness like a filly foal:
And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl.
likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
- The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometimes for three-legg'd stool mistaketh me,
Then slip I from her, while down topples she,
And tailor cries, and falls into a cough,
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear,
A merrier hour was never wasted there.