Imatges de pàgina
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Cor. If you will see a pageant truly plaid,
Between the pale complexion of true love,
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain ;
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

ROS. O come, let us remove;
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love:
Bring us but to this fight, and

you I'll prove a busy Actor in their Play.

[Exeunt.

shall fay

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Enter Silvius and Phebe, Sil. WEET Phebe, do not scorn me; do not,

Pbebe;
Say, that you love me not; but say not so
In bitterness; the common executioner,
Whose heart th' accustom'd fight of death makes

hard,
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,
But first begs pardon : 8 will you sterner be
Than he chat deals, and lives by, bloody drops.

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Enter Rosalind, Celia and Corin. Pbe. I would not be thy executioner; 1 Ay thee, for I would not injure thee. Thou tellst me, there is murther in mine eyes; 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 8 will you ferner be,

Than He that dies and lives by bloody drops ? This is spoken of the executioner. He lives indeed, by bloody Drops, if you will: but how does he die by bloody Drops? The poet must certainly have wrote that deals and lives, &c. i. e. that gets his bread by, and makes a trade of cutting off heads : But the Oxford Editor makes it plainer. He reads, Than he that lives and thrives by bloody drops.

That

That eyes, that are the frail'ft and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murtherers!
Now do I frown on thee with all my heart,
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee:
Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down ;
Or if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame,
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murtherers.
Now shew the wound mine eyes have made in thee;
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable in pressure
Thy Palm some moment keeps: but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt:

Sil. O dear Pbebe,
If ever (as that ever may be near)
You meet in some fresh cheek, the power of fancy,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
That love's keen arrows make.

Pbebe. But 'till that time, Come not thou near me, and when that time comes, Amict me with thy mocks, pity me not; As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee. Rof. And why, I pray you? who might be your

mother, * That you insult, exult, and rail, at once

9 The power of fancy,] i. e. the arms of Love: As poets talk of the darts of Cupid in che Eyes of their Mistresses.

I That you insult, exult, and ALL, at once] If the Speaker intended to accuse the person spoken to only for insulting and exsulting: then, instead of mall at once, it ought to have been, both at once.

But by examining the criine of the person accused, we fall discover that the line is to be read thus,

That you infult, exult, and RAIL, at once. For these three things Phebe was guilty of. But the Oxford Editor improves it, and, for rail at once, reads domineer. VOL. 11. A a

Over

Over the wretched? what though you (w) have beauty,
(As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed,)
Muft

you be therefore proud and pitiless ?
Why, what means this? why do you look on me?
I see no more in you than in the ordinary
2 Of nature's sale-work: odds, my little life!
I think, she means to tangle mine eyes too:
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;
'Tis not your inky brows, your black filk hair,
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,
3 That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy South, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man,
Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you,
That make the world full of ill-favour'd children ;
'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatter her ;
And out of you fhe sees herself more proper,
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,
And thank heav'n, fafting, for a good man's love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Sell when you can, you are not for all markets.
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being found to be a scoffer:

So 2 Of nature's sale-work:) i. e. those works that nature makes up carelesly and without exactness. The allusion is to the practice of Mechanicks, whose work bespoke is more elaborate, than that which is made up for chance-customers, or to sell in quantities to retailers, which is called sale-work.

3 That can ENTAME my spirits to your worship.] I should rather think that Shakespear wrote ENTRAINE, draw,

allure. 4 Foul is most foul, being FOUL to be a fcoffer:] The only sense of this is, An ill-favoured person is most ill favoured, when, if he be ill. favoured, he is a scoffer. Which is a deal too absurd

[(a) have beauty. Anonymus.-Vulg. bave no beauty.]

to

upon me?

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So take her to thee, shepherd; fare you well.

Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together ; I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.

Rof. He's fallen in love with your foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger. If it be fo, as fast as she answers thee, with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why look you

fo
Pbe. For no ill will I bear you.
Rof. I

pray you, do not fall in love with me;
For I am faller than vows made in wine;
Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house,
'Tis at the tuft of Olives, here hard by:
Will you go, Sister? fhepherd, ply her hard :
Come, fifter ; shepherdess, look on him better,
And be not proud; tho' all the world could see,
None could be so abus'd in fight as he.
Come, to our flock. [Exeunt Rof. Cel. and Corin.
Phę. (a) Deed shepherd, now I find thy Saw of

might;
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?

Sil. Sweet Pbebe!
Phe. Hah: what fay'st thou, Silvius ?
Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me.
Phe, Why I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius,

Sil. Where-ever forrow is, relief would be;
If
you

do forrow at my grief in love,
By giving love, your Sorrow and my grief
Were both extermin'd.

Phe. Thou hast my love; is not that neighbourly?
Sil. I would have you.

Phe. Why, that were Covetousness.
Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee;
to come from Shakespear ; who, without question, wrote,

Foul is most foul, being FOUND to be a Scoffer:
i. e. where an ill-favour'd person ridicules the defects of others,
it makes his own appear excessive.
[(a) Deed shepherd, Oxford Editor --Vulg. Dead Mepherd.)
A a 2

And

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And yet it is not, that I bear thee love;
But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too:
But do not look for further recompence,
Than thine own gladness that thou art employ’d.

Sil. So holy and so perfect is my love,
And I in such a poverty of grace,
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
To glean the broken ears after the man
That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then
A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.
Phe. Know'st thou the youth, that spoke to me

ere while ?
Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft;
And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds,
That the old Carlot once was master of.

Pbe. “ Think not, I love him, tho' I ask for him; “ 'Tis but a peevish boy, yet he talks well. “ But what care I for words ? yet words do well, “ When he that speaks them, pleases those that hear : “ It is a pretty youth, not very pretty ; “ But, fure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes “ He'll make a proper man; the best thing in him “ Is his Complexion ; and faster than his tongue “ Did make Offence, his eye did heal it up: “ He is not very tall, yet for his years he's tall; s« His leg is but so so, and yet 'tis well; 6. There was a pretty redness in his lip, “ A little riper, and more lusty red “ Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the

16 difference “ Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. " There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd

« him “ In parcels as I did, would have gone near

66 him;

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