An expecting Lover.

No, Pandarus: I ftalk about her door,
Like a strange foul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me fwift tranfportance to thofe fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deferver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's fhoulders pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Creflid!

I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relifh is fo fweet,

That it enchants my fenfe; what will it be,
When that the wat'ry palate taftes indeed
Love's thrice reputed nectar? Death, I fear me;
Swooning deftruction; or fome joy too fine,
Too fubile-potent, and too fharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers;
I fear it much; and I do fear befides
That I fhall lofe diftinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.

My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lofe,
Like vaffalage at unawares encount'ring
The eye of majesty.

Conftancy in Love protested.

to come

Troilus. True fwains in love fhall in the world [rhimes, Approve their truths by Troilus: when their Full of proteft, of oath, and big compare, Want fimiles: truth tried with iterationAs true as fteel, as plantage to the moon, As fun to day, as turtle to her mate, As iron to adamant, as earth to the centreYet, after all comparisons of truth, As truth's authentic author to be cited, Astrue as Troilus, fhall crown up the verse, And fanctify the numbers.

Cref. Prophet may you be !

If I be falfe, or fwerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When water-drops have worn the ftones of Troy.
And blind oblivion fwallow'd cities up,
And mighty ftates characterlefs are grated
To dutty nothing; yet let memory,
From falfe to falfe,among falfe maids in love,

Upbraid myfalfehood! when they have faid-as falle
As air, as water, wind, or fandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her fon-
Yea, let them fay, to stick the heart of falsehood,
As falfe as Creffid.

Pride cures Pride.

Pride hath no other glafs

To fhew itself, but pride; for fupple knees Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. Greatness contemptible when it declines.

tune,

'Tis certain, greatnefs, once fallen out with forMuft fall out with men too: what the declin'd is, He fhall as foon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies, Shew not their mealy wings but to the fummer: And not a man, for being fimply man,

Hath any honour; but honour for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit;

Which, when they fall, as being flippery ftanders,
The love that lean'd on them as flippery too,
Do one pluck down another, and together

Die in the fall.

Honour, continued Acts neceffary to preferve its Luftre.

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great fiz'd monfter of ingratitudes: [vour'd
Thofe fcraps are good deeds paft; which are de-
As faft as they are made, forgot as foon
As done: perfeverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright: to have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rufty mail

In monumental mockery. Take the inftant way,
For honour travels in a ftrait fo narrow,
Where one but goes abreaft: keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand fons,

That one by one purfue; if you give way,
Or hedge afide from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide they all rush by,
And leave you hindmoft-

Or, like a galiant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
'er-run and trampled on: then what they do in
prefent,

Tho' lefs than yours in paft, muft o'ertop yours.
For time is like a fashionable hoft,

That flightly shakes his parting gueft by the hand;
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
Grafps in the comer: welcome ever fmiles,
And farewel goes out fighing. O, let not virtue feek
Remuneration for the thing it was; for beauty, wit,
High birth, vigour of bone, defert in fervice,
Love, friendship, charity, are fubjects all
To envious and calumniating time.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin-
That all,with one confent, praife new-born gawds,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things paft;
And give to duft, that is a little gilt,
More laud than gilt o'er-dufted.
The prefent eye praifes the prefent object.

Injurious time now, with a robber's hafte, Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how: As many farewels as be stars in heaven, With diftinct breath and confign'd killes to them, He fumbles up into a loofe adicu; And feants us with a fingle famith'd kiss, Diftafted with the falt of broken tears.

Troilus's Character of the Grecian Youths. The Grecian youths are full of quality,

To every ticklish reader! fet them down
For fluttish fpoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game.

The Character of Troilus.

The youngest fon of Priam, a true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchlefs; firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedlefs in his tongue; Not foon provok 'd,nor,being provok'd,foon caim'd: His heart and hand both open, and both free; For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he fhews; Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath: Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, fubfcribes To tender objects; but he, in heat of action, Is more vindicative than jealous love.

Hector in Battle.

I have, thou gallant Trojan, feen thee oft,
Labouring for dettiny, make cruel way
Thro' ranks of Greckish youths: and I have feen
thee,

As hot as Perfeus, fpur thy Phrygian steed,
Defpifing many forfeits and fubduements,
When thou haft hungthy advanced fword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have faid to fome my ftanders-by,
"Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!"

ture flowing,

When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in, Like an Olympian wrestling.

Achilles furveying He&or.

Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I deftroy him? whether there, there, there; That I may give the local wound a name; And make diftinct the very breach, whereout

Hector's great fpirit flew. Antwer me, heavens !

Honour more dear than Life.

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate; Life every man holds dear; but the brave man Holds honour far more precious-dear than life. Pity to be difcarded in War. For the love of all the gods Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother; And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our fwords! Rafb Vows.

The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than fpotted livers in the facrifice.

PATHETIC

Ife thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes.
Dor. Is it foftrange to find me where my wrongs,
And your inhuman tyranny, have fent me?
Think not you dream: or, if you did, my injuries
Shail call to loud, that lethargy fhould wake;
And death fhould give you back to answer me.
Athoufand nights have brush'd their balmy wings
Over thefe eyes; but ever when they clos'd,
Your tyrant image forc'd them ope again,
And dried the dews they brought.
The long-expected hour is come at length,
By manly vengeance to redeem my fame:
And, that once clear'd, eternal fleep is welcome.
Seb. I have not yet forgot I am a king,
Whofe royal office is redrefs of wrongs:
If I have wrong'd thee, charge me face to face;
I have not yet forgot I am a foldier.

Der. 'Tis the firft juftice thou haft ever done me; Then, tho' I loath this woman's war of tongue, Yet fhall my caufe of vengeance first be clear: And, Honour, be thou judge.

Seb. Honour befriend us both.
Beware, I warn thee yet to tell thy griefs
In terms becoming majefty to hear:

I warn thee thus, becaufe I know thy temper
Is infolent and haughty to fuperiors:
How often haft thou brav'd my peaceful court,
Fill'd it with noify brawls, and windy boafts;
And with paft fervice, naufeously repeated,
Reproach'd even me, thy prince!

Dor. And well I might,when you forgot reward,
The part of Heaven in kings: for punishment
Is hangman's work, and drudgery for devils.

And hurried me from hopes of heaven to hell.
All thefe, and all my yet unfinish'd crimes,
When I fhall rife to plead before the faints,
I charge on thee to make thy damning fure.

Seb. Thy old prefumptuous arrogance again,
That bred my first diflike, and then my loathing.
Once more be warn'd, and know me forthy king.
Dor. Too well I know thee, but for king no more:
This is not Lisbon, nor the circle this
Where like a ftatue thou haft food befieg'd
By fycophants, and fools, the growth of courts;
Where thy gull'd eyes in all the gaudy round
Met nothing but a lye in every face;
And the grofs flattery of a gaping crowd,
Envious who firft fhould catch and first applaud
The ftuff or royal nonfenfe: when I fpoke,
My honeft homely words were carp'd and cenfur'd,
For want of courtly ftyle: related actions,
Though modeftly reported, pafs'd for Loafts:
Secure of merit if I alk'd reward,

Thy hungry minions thought th irrights invaded, And the bread fhatch'd from pups and parafites. Henriquez anfwered, with a ready lye,

To fave his king's, the boon was begg'd before.

Seb. What fay't thou of Henriquez ? Now by

Heaven

That thing, that nothing but a cringe and finile; That woman, but more daub'd; or, if a man, Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress.

Seb. All falfe as hell, or thou.

Dor. Yes; full as falfe

Tyrant (it irks me fo to call my prince), But just refentment and hard ufage coin'd Th' unwilling word; and, grating as it is, Take it, for 'tis thy due.

Seb. How, tyrant!

Dor. Tyrant!

Seb. Traitor! that name thou canst not echo back: That robe of infamy, that circumcifion

Ill hid beneath that robe, proclaim thee traitor: And, if a name

More foul than traitor be, 'tis renegade.

[rant,

Dor. If I'm a traitor, think, and bluth, thou tyWhofe injuries betray'd me into treafon, Effac'd my loyalty, unhing'd my faith,

For, coming fraughted back, in either hand
With palm and olive, victory and peace,
I was indeed prepar'd to alk my own
(For Violante's vows were mine before):
Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke;
And ak'd me Violante for Henriquez.

Sch. I meant thee a reward of greater worth. Dor. Where juftice wanted, could reward be hop'd?

Could the robb'd paffenger expect a bounty Froin thofer pacious hands who ftripp'd him first ? Seb. He had my promife, ere I knew thy love. Dor. My fervices deferv'd thou shouldit reyoke it.

Seb.

Seb. Thy infolence had cancell'd all thy fervice; To violate my laws, even in my court, Sacred to peace, and fafe from all affronts; Even to my face, and done in my defpite, Under the wing of awful majefty,

To ftrike the man I lov'd!

Dor. Ev'n in the face of heaven, a place more facred,

Would I have ftruck the man, who, prompt by pow'r,

Would seize my right, and rob me of my love:
But, for a blow provok'd by thy injuftice,
The hafty product of a juft despair,
When he refus'd to meet me in the field,
That thou shouldst make a coward's caufe thy own!
Seb. He durft nay, more, defir'd and begg'd
with tears

To meet thy challenge fairly: 'twas thy fault
To make it public; but my duty then
To interpofe, on pain of my difpleafure,
Betwixt your fwords.

Dor. On pain of infamy
He should have difobey'd.

Seb. The indignity thou didst was meant to me:
Thy gloomy eyes were caft on me with scorn,
As who should say, the blow was there intended;
But that thou didst not dare to lift thy hands
Against anointed power: fo was I forc'd
To do a fovereign juftice to myself,
And fpurn thee from my prefence.
Dor. Thou haft dar'd

To tell me what I durft not tell myself:
I durft not think that I was fpurn'd, and live;
And live to hear it boafted to my face;
All my long avarice of honour loft,
Heap'd up in youth, and hoarded up for age:
Has Honour's fountain then fuck'd back the
ftream?

He has; and hooting boys may dryshod pass,
And gather pebbles from the naked ford.
Give me my love, my honour; give them back:
Give me revenge while I have breath to afk it.
Seb. Now by this honour'd order which I wear,
More gladly would I give than thou dar'st ask it:
Nor fhall the facred character of king

Be urg'd to fhield me from thy bold appeal.
If I have injur'd thee, that makes us equal:
The wrong, if done, debas'd me down to thee.
But thou haft charg'd me with ingratitude;
Haft thou not charg'd me? Speak.

Dor. Thou know'ft I have:
If thou difown'ft that imputation, draw,
And prove my charge a lye.

Seb. No; to difprove that lye I must not draw:
Be confcious to thy worth, and tell thy foul
What thou haft done this day in my defence:
To fight thee after this, what were it elfe
Than owning that ingratitude thon urg'it?
That ifthmus ftands between two rushing feas;
Which mounting view each other from afar,
And ftrive in vain to meet.

Dor. I'll cut that ifthmus:

Thou know'ft I meant not to preferve thy life,
But to reprieve it, for my own revenge.
I fav'd thee out of honourable malice:

Now draw; I fhould be loth to think thou dar'st not:

Beware of fuch another vile excufe.

Seb. O, patience, Heaven! Dor. Beware of patience too; That's a fufpicious word: it had been proper, Before thy foot had fpurn'd me; now 'tis base: Yet, to difarm thee of thy last defence, I have thy oath for my fecurity:

The only boon I begg'd was this fair combat : Fight or be perjur'd now; that's all thy choice. Seb. Now can I thank thee as thou wouldst be thank'd: [Drawing.

Never was vow of honour better paid,

If

my true fword but hold, than this fhall be. The fprightly bridegroom on his wedding-night More gladly enters not the lifts of love. Why 'tis enjoyment to be fummon'd thus. Go; bear my meffage to Henriquez' ghost, And fay his mafter and his friend reveng'd him.

Dor. His ghoft then is my hated rival dead? Seb. The question is befide our prefent purpose. Thou feeft me ready; we delay too long.

Dor. A minute is not much in either's life, When there's but one betwixt us; throw it in, And give it him of us who is to fall.

Seb. He's dead: make hafte, and thou mayst

yet o'ertake him.

Dor. When I was hafty, thou delay'ft me longer. I pr'ythee let me hedge one moment more Into thy promife: for thy life preferv'd, Be kind; and tell me how that rival died, Whofe death next thine I wish'd.

Seb. If it would pleafe thee, thou shouldft never
know:

But thou, like jealoufy, enquir'ft a truth,
Which found will torture thee: he died in fight;
Fought next my perfon, as in concert fought;
Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow;
Save when he heav'd his fhield in my defence,
And on his naked fide receiv'd my wound :
Then, when he could no more, he fell at once,
But roll'd his falling body crofs their way,
And made a bulwark of it for his prince.

Dor. I never can forgive him fuch a death!
Seb. I prophefied thy proud foul could not
bear it.

Now judge thyfelf who beft deferv'd my love.
I knew you both; and (durft I fay ?) as Heaven
Foreknew among the fhining angel hoft
Who fhould ftand firm, who fall.

Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fall'n; And fo, had I been favour'd, had I ftood.

Seb. What had been, is unknown; what is, apConfefs he justly was preferr'd to thee. [pears:

Dor. Had I been born with his indulgent stars, My fortune had been his, and his been mine. O, worse than hell! what glory have I loft, And what has he acquir'd by fuch a death! I fhould have fallen by Sebaftian's fide, My corpfe had been the bulwark of my king : His glorious end was a patch'd work of fate, Ill forted with a foft effeminate life: It fuited better with my life than his So to have died: mine had been of a piece, Spent in your fervice, dying at your feet.

Seb.

Seb. The more effeminate and foft his life, The more his fame, to ftruggle to the field, And meet his glorious fate: confefs, proud spirit, (For I will have it from thy very mouth) That better he deferv'd my love than thou.

Dor. O, whither wouldst thou drive me? I muft grant,

Yes, I muft grant, but with a fwelling foul,
Henriquez had your love with more defert:
For you he fought and died; I fought against you:
Through all the mazes of the bloody field
Hunted your facred life; which that I miss'd
Was the propitious error of my fate,
Not of my foul; my foul's a regicide.

Seb. Thou might ft have given it a more gentle

name:

Thou meau'ft to kill a tyrant, not a king. Speak, didft thou not, Alonzo?

Dor. Can I fpeak?

Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo:
No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo:
Alonzo was too kind a name for me.
Then,when Ifought and conquer'd withyour arms,
In that bleft age I was the man you nam'd:
Till rage and pride debas'd me into Dorax;
And loft, like Lucifer, my name above.

Seb. Yet twice this day I ow'd my life to Dorax.
Dor. I fav'd you but to kill you: there'smy grief.
Seb. Nay, if thou canst be griev'd, thou canft

repent:

Thou couldst not be a villain, tho' thou wouldft:
Thou own'ft too much in owning thou haft err'd:
And I too little, who provok'd thy crime.
Dor. O, ftop this headlong torrent of your good-
It comes too faft upon a feeble foul, [nels;
Half-drown'd in tears before; fpare my confufion,
For pity fpare, and fay not, firft you crr'd.
For yet I have not dar'd, through guilt and fhame,
To throw myself beneath your royal feet.
Now fpuin this rebel, this proud renegade;
'Tis juft you thould, nor will I more complain.
Seb. Indeed thou should it not ask forgivenefs
firft,

But thou prevent'ft me ftill in all that's noble.
Yes, I will raife thee up with better news:
Thy Violante's heart was ever thine;

Compell'd to wed, because the was my ward,
Her foul was abfent when he gave her hand:
Nor could my threats, or his purfuing courtship,
Effect the confummation of his love:
So ftill indulging tears, the pines for thee,
A widow and a maid.

Dor. Have I been curfing Heaven,while Heaven blefs'd me!

I fhall run mad with ecftafy of joy:
What, in one moment to be reconcil'd
To Heaven, and to my king, and to my love!
But pity is my friend, and ftops me fhort,
For my unhappy rival. Poor Henriquez!

Seb. Art thou fo generous too, to pity him ?
Nay, then I was unjuft to love him better.
Here let me ever hold thee in my arms;
And all our quarrels be but fuch as these,
Who fhall love beft, and closest shall embrace:
Be what Henriquez was-be my Alonzo.

Dor. What, my Alonzo, faid you? my Alonzo! Let my fears thank you, for I cannot speak ; And if I could, [mine. Words were not made to vent fuch thoughts as Seb. Thou canst not fpeak, and I can ne'er be filent.

Some ftrange reverse of fate muft fure attend
This vaft profufion, this extravagance
Of Heaven to blefs me thus. 'Tis gold fo pure,
It cannot bear the ftamp without allay.
Be kind, ye pow'rs, and take but half away:
With eafe the gifts of fortune I refign;
But let my love and friend be ever mine.

Ant.

38. Antony and Ventidius. DRYDEN. THEY tell me 'tis my birth-day; and I'l keep it

With double pomp of fadnefs.

'Tis what the day deferves which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the meteor of the world, Hung in the fkies, and blazing as I travell'd, Till all my fires were ipent, and then caft downwards

To be trod out by Cæfar?

Vent. [Afide] On my foul
'Tis mournful, wondrous mournful!
Ant. Count thy gains;

Now, Antony, wouldst thou be born for this?
Glutton of fortune, thy devouring youth
Has ftarv'd thy wanting age.

Vent. [Afide] How forrow shakes him !
So now the tempeft tears him up by th' roots,
And on the ground extends the noble ruin.

Art. [Having thrown himself down.]
Lie there, thou thadow of an emperor;
The place thou preffeft on thy mother earth
Is all thy empire now: now it contains thee;
Some few days hence, and then 'twill be too large,
When thou 'rt contracted in thy narrow urn,
Shrunk to a few cold afhes: then Octavia,
(For Cleopatra will not live to fee it)
Octavia then will have thee all her own,
And bear thee in her widow'd hand to Cæfar.
Cæfar will weep, the crocodile will weep,
To fee his rival of the univerfe

Lie ftill and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't.
Give me fome mufic; look that it be fad;
I'll foothe my melancholy, till I fwell
And burft myfelf with fighing-
'Tis fomewhat to my humour. Stay, I fancy
I'm now turn'd wild, a commoner of nature;
Of all fo. faken, and forfaking ail;
Live in a fhady foreft's fylvan fcene;
Stretch'd at my length beneath fome blafted oak,
I lean my head upon the moffy bark,
And look juft of a piece as I grew from it:
My uncomb'd locks, matted like mifletoe,
Hang o'er my hoary face; a murm`ring brook
Runs at my foot-

Vent. Methinks, I fancy
Myfelf there too.

Ant. The herd come jumping by me,

And fearlefs quench their that while 1 lock on, and take me for their fellow-ciuzen.