Have of your audience been mot free and bounteous. And that in way of caution, I muft tell you, Oph. He hath, my Lord, of late, made many tenders Of his affection to me. Pol. Affection! puh! you fpeak like a green girl, Unfifted in fuch perilous circumftance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? Opb. I do not know, my Lord, what I fhould think: Pol. Marry, I'll teach you. Think yourself a baby, That you have ta'en his tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourfelf more dearly; Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Wronging it thus) you'll tender me a fool. Oph. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with love, In honourable fashion, Pol, Ay, fashion you may call it indeed -Go to. Oph. And hath giv'n count'nance to his fpeech, my Lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Pol. Ay, fprings to catch woodcocks, I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the foul Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, oh ! my daughter Set your intreatments at a higher rate The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. BETWEEN COMUS AND THE LADY. FROM THE MASQUE OF COMUS. Spirit. From the realms of peace above, From the fource of heav'nly love, From the starry throne of Jove, To thefe dim labyrinths, where mortals ftray, To fave thy purer breaft from spot and blame SONG: Nor on beds of fading flowers, Shedding foon their gaudy pride; Will true pleafure long refide. On awful virtue's hill fublime, Enthroned fits th' immortal fair; Who wins her height, muft patient climb; [Exit the Spirit, the mufic playing loud and folemn. Lady. Thanks, heav'nly fongfler! whofoe'er thou art, Who deign't to enter these unhallow'd walls, O cease not, ceafe not the melodious strain, -far from these horrid fiends! Comus. Mere airy dreams of air-bred people thefe ; Who look with envy on more happy man! Drink this, and you will scorn fuch idle tales. [He offers the cup, which she puts by and attempts to rife. Nay, lady, fit; if I but wave this wand, Your nerves are all bound up in alabaster, And you a ftatue: " or, as Daphne was, • Root-bound, that fled Apollo.' Lady. Fool, do not boat; Thou can't not touch the freedom of my mind, Thou haft immanacl'd while heav'n fees good. Comus. Why are you vex'd, lady? why do you frown Here dwell no frowns nor anger; from these L6 gates Sor Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures Lady. Know, base deluder, that I will not taste it. Keep thy detested gifts for such as thefe. [Points to his crew, Comus. Why fhou'd you be fo cruel to yourself, And to thofe dainty limbs, which Nature lent For gentle ufage and foft delicacy; That have been tir'd all day withou repast, And timely rest have wanted? But, fair virgin, Lady. "Twill not, false traitor ! "Twill not restore the truth and honefty That thou hast banish'd from thy tongue with lies. Was this the cottage, and the fafe abode Thou told'ft me of? Hence with thy brew'd enchant ments. Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, I wou'd not taste thy treas'nous offer-None, SCENE SCENE FROM THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. BETWEEN LORENZO AND JESSICA. Lor. How fweet the moonlight fleeps upon this bank! Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufic Is thick inlay'd with patterns of bright gold; Sill quiring to the young ey'd cherubims: Doth grofsly clofe us in, we cannot hear it. Jes. I'm never merry when I hear sweet music. [Mufic Lor. The reafon is, your spirits are attentive; For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled cofts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, (Which is the hot condition of their blood) If they perchance but hear a trumpet found, Or any air of mufic touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand; |