Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'ft, I warrant. We fhall have old fwearing, That they did give the rings away to men; But we'll out-face them, and out-iwear them too: -Away, make hafte, thou know'ft where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good Sir, will you fhew me to this house ? [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. Belmont. A Grove, or green Place, before Portia's House. TH Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica. LORENZO. HE moon fhines bright-In fuch a night as this, When the fweet wind did gently kifs the trees, And they did make no noife; in fuch a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall; And figh'd his foul towards the Grecian tents, Where Crefid lay that night. Jef. In tuch a night, Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew; And ran difmayed away. Lor. In fuch a night, Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild fea-banks, and wav'd her love Jef. In fuch a night, Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs, That did renew old Æson. Lur. In fuch a night, Did Jeffica fteal from the wealthy few, And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, Jef. And in fuch a night, Did young Lorenzo fwear, he lov'd her well; Lor. And in fuch a night, Did pretty effica (like a little fhrew) Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come: Enter Stephano. Lor. Who comes fo fast, in filence of the night? Mef. A friend. Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray you, friend? Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word, By holy Croffes, where the kneels, and prays, Lor. Who comes with her? Mef. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. -I pray you, is my malter yet return'd? Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jeffica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter Launcelot. Laun. Sola, fola, wo ha, ho, fola, fola! 1 None but a holy hermit.] I do not perceive the ufe of this hermit, of whom nothing is feen or heard afterwards. The Poet had first planned his fable fome other way, and inadvertently, when he changed his fcheme, retained fomething of the original design, Hh 3 Lor. Lor. Who calls? Laun, Sola! did you fee Mafter Lorenzo and Miftrefs Lorenzo? fola, fola! Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here. Laun. Sola! where? where ? Lor. Here. Laun. Tell him, there's a poft come from my mafter with his horn full of good news. My master will be here ere morning. Lor. Sweet love, coming. let's in, and there expect their And yet no matter why should we go in ? ; [Exit Stephano, How sweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bank! Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufick Creep in our ears; foft ftillness, and the night Become the touches of fweet harmony. Sit, Jeffica: look, how the floor of heav'n Is thick inlay'd with pattens of bright gold; There's not the fmalleft orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel fings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims; Such harmony is in immortal fouls! 3 2 2 with PATTERNS of bright geld; We fhould read PATENS: a round broad plate of gold born in heraldry. WARBURTON. Pattens is the reading of the first tolio, and pattents of the quarto. Patterns is printed first in the fol. 1632. 3 Sub harmony is in immortal fouls; But the harmony here defcribed is that of the fpheres, But fo much celebrated by the antients. He fays, the smallest orb fings like an angel; and then fubjoins, fuch harmony is in immortal fouls: But the harmony of angels is not here meant, but of the orbs. Nor are we to think, that here the poet alludes to the notion, that each orb has its intelligence or angel to direct it; for then with no propriety could he fay, the orb fung like an angel: he But whilft this muddy vesture of decay Jef. I'm never merry, when I hear sweet mufick. [Mufick. Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand; Since nought fo ftockifh, hard and full of rage, Enter Portia and Neriffa at a distance. hall: Por. That light we fee, is burning in my -How far that little candle throws his beams! So fhines a good deed in a naughty world. Ner. When the moon fhone, we did not fee the candle. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the lefs: [Mufick Ner. It is your mufick, Madam, of the houfe. Ner. Silence beflows the virtue on it, Madam. 5 The man that hath no mufick well then as now, was love of mufick. Jam verò video naturam (lays Erafmus in praise of Folly) ut fingulis nationibus, ac pene civitaribus, communem quandam infeviffe Philautiam: Atque bine fieri, ut BRITANNI præter alia, Formam, MUSICAM, & lautas Menjas propriè fibi vindicent. 6 WARBURTON. - without respect.] Not abfolutely good, but relatively, good as it is modified by circumitances. |