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Oth. Ay.

Des. I will so: What's the matter?

Oth. I had forgot thee: 0, come in, Emilia :Oth. That handkerchief, which I so lov'd, and gave Soft, -by and by :—Let me the curtains draw.Thou gav'st to Cassio.

[thee, Where art thou? What's the matter with thee Dow! Des. No, by nay life and soul ;

(Unlocks the door. Send for the man, and ask him. Oth. Sweet soul, take heed,

Enter Emilia. Take heed of perjury; thou’rt on thy death-bed. Emil. O, good my lord, yonder's foul murder done Des. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oth. What? now? Oth.

Yes, presently :


But now, my lord! Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin ;

Oth. It is the very error of the moon; For to deny each article with oath,

She comes more near the earth than she was wont; Cannot remove, nor choke, the strong conception, And makes men mad. That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Emil. Cassio, my lord, has kill'd a young Veottian, Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me!

Call'd— Roderigo. Oth.

I say anen. Oth.

Roderigo kill'd!
Des. And have you mercy too!--I never did And Cassio kill'd ?
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio,


No, Cassio is not kill'd. But with such general warranty of heaven,

Oth. Not Cassio kill'd? Then murder's out of tune, As I might love : I never gave him token.

And sweet revenge grows harsh.
Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand. Des. O, falsely, falsely murder'd!
O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart,


Alas; what cry is that? And mak'st me call, what I intend to do,

Oth. That! what? A murder, which I thought a sacrifice :

Emil. Out and alas! that was my lady's voice: I saw the handkerchief.

Help! help, ho! help!-O lady, speak again! Des.

He found it then ; Sweet Desdemona! Ô, sweet mistress, speak! I never gave it him :-Send for him hither,

Des. A guiltless death I die. Ind let him confess a truth.


0, who hath done Oth.

He hati, confess'd. This deed ? Des. What, my lord ?


Nobody; I myself; farewell :
Oth. That he hath-us'd thee.

Commend me to my kind lord ; '0, farewell. (Dies.
How? unlawfully? Oth. Why, how should she be murderd?

Alas, who knows? Des. lle'll not say so.

Oth. You heard her say herself, it was not I. Oth,

No, his mouth is stoppid; Emil. She said so; I must needs report the truth Honest lago hath ta'en order for't.

Oth. She's, like a liar, gone to burning bell; Des. My fears interprets then,-What, is he dead ? 'Twas I that kill'd her. Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge


0, the more angel she, Had stomach for them all.


the blacker devil ! Des. Alas! he is betray'd, and I undone.

Oth. She tura'd to folly, and she was a whore. Oth. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my Emil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. Des. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not. [face? Oth. She was false as water. Oth. Down, strumpet !


Thou art rash as fire, to say Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night. That she was false; 0, she was heavenly true! Oth. Nay, if you strive.

Oth. Cassio did tup her : ask thy husband else. Des. But half an hour.

0, I were dama'd beneath all depth in bell, Oth,

Being done, But that I did proceed upon just grounds There is no pause.

To this extremity ; Thy husband knew it all. Des.

But while I say one prayer. Emil. My husband ? Oth. It is too late.

[He smothers her. Oth. Thy husband. Emil. (Within.] My lord, my lord ! what ho! my Emil. That she was false to wedlock ! lord ! my lord!


Ay, with Cassio Oth. What noise is this?-Not dead! not yet quite Nay, had she been true, 1, that ai cruel, am yet merciful ;

[dead? If heaven would make me such another world I would not have thee linger in thy pain.-- Of one entire and perfect chrysolito, So, so.

I'd not have sold her for it. Emil. [Within.) What ho, my lord !


lord! Emil. My husband ? Oth. Who's there? Oth.

Ay, 'twas he that told me first; Emil (Within.) O, good my lord, I would speak An honest man he is, and hates the slime a word with you.

That sticks on filthy deeds. Oth. Yes ;-'tis Emilia :—by and by :- She's dead. Emil.

My husband ! Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death; Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say, thy The noise was high.-Ha ? no more moving?

husband. Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were't good ? Emil. O mistress, villany bath made mocks with I think, she stirs again :-No.—What's the best ? My husband say, that she was false? (love! If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife :


He, woman; My wife! my wife! what wife ?--I have no wife : I say, thy husband : Dost understand the word ? 0, insupportable! O heavy hour!

My friend, thy husband, honest, honest lago. Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse

Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart ; Should yawn at alteration.

She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. Emil. [Within.] I do beseech you I may speak with Oih. Ha! 0. good my lord !

[you, Emil. Do thy worst;



This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,

Emil. I will not. [Iago offers to stab his wife Than thou wast worthy her.



Peace, you were best. Your sword upon a woman?
Emil. Thou hast not half the power to do me harm,

Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchier thor
As I have to be hurt. O gulll o dolt!

speak'st of,
As igaurant as dirt! thou hast done a deed, - I found by fortune, and did give my husband ;
I care not for thy sword ; I'll make thee known, For often with a volemn earnestness,
Though I lost twenty lives :—Help! help ho! help. (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,)
The Moor has kill'd my mistress; Murder! murder! He begg'd of me to steal it.


Villainous whore!
Enter Montano, GRATIANO, and lago.

Emil. She gave it Cassio! no, I found it,
Mon. What is the matter?- How now, general ? And I did give't my husband.
Emil. O, are you come, Iago ? you have done well, lago.

Filth, thou liest
That men must lay their murders on your neck. Emil

. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlenec. Gru. What is the matter?

O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man: Do with so good a wife ?
He says, thou told’si him that his wife was false :

[Iago stabs EMILIA, then runs out. I know, thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain : Oth.

Are there no stones in heaven, Speak, for my heart is full.

But what serve for the thunder-- Precious villain! lago. I told him what I thought; and told no more Gra. The woman falls; sure he has kill'd his wife. Than what he found himself was apt and true. Emil. Ay, ay: O lay me by my mistress' side!

Emil. But did you ever tell him she was false? Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd. (por. lago. I did.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this wea Emil. You told a lie; an odious damned lie; Which I have here recover'd from the Moor: Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie :

Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, She false with Cassio !—Did you say with Cassio ? But kill him rather ; I'll after that same villain, lago. With Cassio, mistress; Go to, charm your For 'tis a damned slave. tongue.

[Ereunt MONTANO and GratiaN. Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to


I am not valiant neither.
My mistress here lies murder’d in her bed. (speak; But every puny whipster gets my sword :-
All. O heavens forfend !

But why should honour outlive honesty ?
Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. Let it go all.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.

Hark, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan,
Mon. O monstrous act!

And die in music ;-Willow, willow, willow.-

Villany, villany, villany!- Moor, she was chaste ; she lov'd thee, cruel Mooi
I think upon't,—I think,-1 smellit;- villany! So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true ;
I thought so then ;-I'll kill myself for grief.- So speaking as I think, I die,-- I die. [ Dies.
villany, villany!

(home. Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, lago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper; Emil

. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. O, here it is :-Uncle, I must come forth. (dear, Tis proper 1 obey him, but not now:

Gra. [Within.) If thou attempt it, it will cost thee Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go home.

Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. Oth. O! O! O! (Hanging over his wife. Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me. Emil.

Nay, lay thee down, and roar. Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.

Re-enter GRATIANO.
Oth. O, she was foul !-

[Rising Gra. What is the matter? I scarce did know you, uncle: There lies your niece, Oth.

Behold! I have a weapon
Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd: A better never did itself sustain
I know this act shews horrible and grim.

Upon a soldier's thigh : I have seen the day,
Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead; That with this little arm, and this good sword,
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief I have made my way through nore impediments
Shore his oid thread in twain : did he live now, Than twenty times your stop:-But, О vain boast !
This sight would make him do a desperate turn, Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.-
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
And fall to reprobation.

Here is my journey's end, here is my buti, Oth. 'Tis pitiful ; but yet Iago knows,

And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. That she with Cassio hath the act of shame

Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear ; A thousand times committed ; Cassio confess'd it: Man but a rush against Othello's breast, And she did gratify his amorous works

And he retires ;-- Where should Othello go ! With that recognizance and pledge of love

Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench Which I first gave her ; I saw it in his hand ; Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt, It was a handkerchief, an antique token

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, My father gave my inother.

And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl 'Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers !

Even like thy chastity: – lago.

Come, hold your peace. O cursed, cursed slave ! - Whip me, ye deviis,

. 'Twill out, 'twill out;-) hold my peace, sir? From the possession of this heavenly sight!
No, I will speak as liberal as the air ; (no ; Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fre! -
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. O Desdemona ! Desdemona! dead?
Ingo. Be wise, and get you home.

Dead ? 0! 0!0!

Oih. Ay.

Enter Lodovico, MONTANO, Cassio, carried in a Oth.

O fool! fool! fool! chair, and Officers, with laco, prisoner. Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter, Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? How he upbraids lago, that he made him Oth. That's he, that was Othello ; here I am.

Brave me upon the watch ; whereon it came Lod. Where is that viper ? bring the villain forth. That I was cast: And even but now he spake, Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's

After long seeming dead,- Jago hurt him, a fable :

lago set him on. If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with as

Your (Otuello wounds Iago. power and your command is taken off, Lod. Wrench his sword from him.

And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, lago.

I bleed, sir ; but not kill'd. If there be any cunning cruelty, Oih. I am not sorry neither ; 1'd have thee live ; It shall be his: You shall close prisoner rest,

That can torment him inuch, and hold him long, For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. Loud. Othou Othello, that was once so good,

Till that the nature of your fault be kuown

| To the Venetian slate : - Come, bring him away. Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave What shall be said to thee?

Oth. Soft you ; a word or two, before you go. Oth.

Why, any thing:

I have done the state some service, and they know i!; An bonourable murderer, if you will;

No more of that :-) pray you, in your letters, For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Lol. I'his wretch hath part confess'd his villany : Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Nor set down aught in malice. then must you speak

Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well; Cns. Dear general, I never gave you cause.

Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Och. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand, Will you, I pray you, demand that demi-devil,

Like the base Júdean, threw a pearl away. Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body?

Riclier than all his tribe ; of one, whose subdu'd eyes Tugo. Demand ine nothing: What you know, you Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees

Albeit unused to the melting mond, kuow : From this time forth I never will speak word.

Their medicinal gum : Set you down this :
Lod. What? not to pray?

And say, besides, - that in Aleppo once,
Torments will ope your lips. Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,

Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Oth. Well, thou dost best.
Lon. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, I took by the throat the circumcised dog,

And smöte him-thus.
Which, as I think, you know not: Here is a letter,

(Stabs himself. Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo ;

Lod. O bloody period ! And here, another : the one of them imports


All, that's spoke, is marr'd. The death of Cassio to be undertook

Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee ;-No way but

this, By Roderigo.

(Falling upon DESDEMONA. Oth. O villain !

Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

(Dies. Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross !

Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon ; Laut. Now here's another discontented paper,

For he was great of heart.

Lod. Found in his pocket too ; and this, it seems,

O Spartan dog, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain ;

More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea ! But thoi, belike, lago in the interim

Look on the tragic loading of this bed ; (To laco. Came in and satisfied him.

This is thy work : the object poisons sight ;Oih.

O the pernicious caitif! - Let it be hid. --- Gratiano, kcep the house, How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief

And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, That was my wife's ?

For they succeed to you.--To you, lord governor, Cas. I found it in chamber :

Remains the censure of this hellish villain ; And he himself confess'd, but even now,

The time, the place, the torture,- enforce it! That there he dropp d '?, for a special purpose,

Myself will straight aboard ; and, to the state, Which wrought to his desire.

This heavy act with heavy heart relate. ( Ereunt. The beauties of this play impress themselves so strongly, but the character of lago is so conducted, that he is from the apon the attention of the reader, that they can draw no aid first scene to the last haled and despised. from critical illustration. The fiery openness of Othello, mag. Even the inferior characters of this play would be very con Danimous, artless, and credulous, boundless in his confidence, spicuous in any other piece. Not only for their pustness, but heir ardent in his affection, intiexule in his resolution, and obilurale sireugth. Cassio is brave, benevolent, and bonest, ruined only in bis revenge the cool malinity of lago, silent in his resept. by his want of stubbornness to resist an insidingstation. menil, sibile in his designs, and studious at once of his interest Roleriyo's suspicious credulity, and impauent utason to and his vengeance; the soft simplicity of Desdemona, coufi. the cheats which he sees practised upon him, and watch by per dent of merit, and conscious of innocence, her artless perse. shasion he suffers to be repeated, exhibit a strogpicture of . verance in her suit, and her slowuess to suspect that she can weak mind betrayed by unlawful desires to a false friend and be suspected, are such proofs or Shakspeare's skill in bunan the virtue of Emilia is such as we often find, worn loosrly, bas Dature, as, I suppose, it is vain to seek in any uderu writer. not cast off, easy to commit small crimes, but quickened and The gradual progress which lago makes in the Moor's convic- alarmed at atrocious villamies. tion, and ine circumstances which he employs to entame him, The scenes from the beginning to the end are busy, varied by are sn aritully natural. thal, though it will perhaps turit tre said happy interchanges, and regularly promoting the progression and of him as he says of himsell. that he is a man w caitly jealons, the story, and the narrative in tbe end, thou h " teils but waat yet we cannot byt pily him, wheo at last we nud hins per plesed is known already, yel is necessary to produce the death of Othello. in the estreme.

Had the scene opened in Cyprus, and the prrerding inc.cats There is always danger. Jest wickedness, conjoived with abi. been occasion ally related, there had been lulle wagting 10 . ijtjes, shouid steal apon esteem, Lhough it misses of approbation; drama of the most exact and scrupulous regularity.-Jonsson.






Earl of Soutbampton, and Baron of Titchfield, Right HONOURABLE,

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your Lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burthen : only if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish, and the world's hopeful expectation.

Your Honour's in all duty, WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.


Vilia miretur vulgus mihi flavus Apollo
Poculo Castalia plena ministrat aqua.-OVID.

Even as the sun with purple colour'd face And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips ;
Had ta’en his last leave of the weeping morn, And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
Rose cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;

“If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.” Hunting he lov’d, but love he laugh'd to scorn, He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,

Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks ; And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him. Then with her windy sighs, and golden hairs, Thrice fairer than myself, (thus she began) To fan and blow them dry again she seeks : The field's chief Aower, sweet above compare, He says, she is immodest, blames her 'miss; Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,

What follows more, she smothers with a kiss. Dlore white and red than doves or roses are ; Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,

Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,

Saith that the world hath ending with thy life. Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed, Till either gorge be stuff"d, or prey be gone; And reign his proud head to the saddle-bow;

Even so she kiss'd his brow, his cheek, his chin. If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed,

And where she euds, she doth anew begin. A thousand honey-secrets shalt thou know : Forc'd to content, but never to obey,

Here come and sit, where serpent never hisses, Panting he lies, and breathing in her face,

And, being set, I'll smother thee with kisses. She feedeth on the steam, as on a prey,
And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,

Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers, Taking them red and pale with fresh variety

So they were dew'd with such distilling showers. Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty: Look how a bird lies tangled in a net,

A summer's day will seem an hour but short, So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies;

Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport. Pure shame and aw'd resistance made him fret. With this, she seizeth on his sweating palm,

Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes. The precedent of pith and livelihood,

Rain added to a river that is rank, And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,

Perforce will force it overflow the bank. Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good : Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force,

For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale ; Courageously to pluck him from his horse. Still is he sullen, still he low'rs and frets, Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,

'Twixt crimson shame and anger, ashy pale; Under the other was the tender boy,

Being red, she loves him best; and being white Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,

Her best is better'd with a more delight. With leaden appetite, unapt to toy,

Look how he can, she cannot choose but love; She red and hot, as coals of glowing fire, And by her fair immortal hand she swears He red for shame, but frosty in desire.

From his soft bosom never to remove, The studded bridle on a ragged bough

Till he take truce with her contending tears, Nimbly she fastens (O how quick is love !)

Which long have rain'd, inaking her cheeks ali wet; The steed is stalled up, and even now

And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt. To tie the rider she begins to prove:

Upon this promise did he raise his chin, Backward she push 'å him, as she would be thrust, Like a di-dapper peering through a wave,

And govern'd him in strengh, though not in lust. Who being look'd on, ducks as quickly in ; So soon was she along, as he was down,

So offers he to give what she did crave; Each leaning on their elbows and their hips :

But when her lips were ready for his pay, Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frowa, He winks, and turns his lips another way.


Never did passenger in summer's heat

Steal thine own freedom, and complain of theft More thirst for drink, than she for this good turn. Narcissus so, himself himself forsook, Her help she sees, tut help she cannot get;

And dy'd to kiss his shadow in the brook. She bathes in water, yet in fire must burn : Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,

“ Oh pity, 'gan she cry, flint hearted boy ; Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,

"Tis but a kiss I beg ; why art thou coy? Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear; I have been woo'), as I entreat thee now,

Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse: Even by the stern and direful god of war,

Seerls spring froin seeds,and beauty breedeth beaut. Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow,

Thuu wert begot- to get it is thy duty. Who conquers where he comes, in cvery jar; Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed.

Yet hath he been my captive and my slave, Unless the earth with thy increase be fed ?

And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have. By law of Nature thou art bound to breed, Over my altars hath he hung his lance,

That thine may live, when thou thyself art dead ; His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,

And so in spite of death thou dost survive,
And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance, In that thy likeness still is left alive.”
To coy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest;

By this, the love-sick queen began to sweat, Scoring his churlish drum, and ensign red, For, where they lay, the shadow had forsook them. Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.

And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat, Thus him that over-rul'd, I oversway'd,

With burning eye did hotly overlook them ; Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain :

Wishing Adonis had his team to guide, Strong-temper'd steel his stronger strength obey'd, So he were like him, and by Venus' side. Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.

And now Adonis, with a lazy spright, O be not proud, nor brag not of thy might, And with a heavy, dark, disliking, eye,

For mast'ring her that foild the god of fight. His low'ring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight, Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine, Like misty vapours, when they blot the sky, (Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red,) Souring his cheeks, cries, "Fie! no more of love; The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine :

The sun doth burn my face; I must remove." What see'st thou in the ground ? hold up thy head; “Ah me, (quoth Venus) young, and so unkind! Look in mine eye balls where thy beauty lies :

What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gune! Then why not lips on lips, since eyes on eyes ? I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind Art thou asham'd to kiss ? then wink again, Shall cool the heat of this descending sun; And I will wink, so shall the day seem night; I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs : Love keeps his revels where there be but twain, If they burn too, I'll queach them with my tears Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:

The sun that shines from heaven, shines but warm, These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean, And lo, I lie between that sun and thee;

Never can blab, nor know they what we mean. The heat I have from thence doth little harm, The tender spring upon thy tempting lip.

Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me : Shews thee unripe ; yet may'st thou well be tasted ; And were I not imınortal, life were done, Make use of time, lei not advantage slip;

Between this heavenly and earthly sun. Beauty within itself should not be wasted :

Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel, Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime, Nay more than fint, for it at rain relenteth? Rot and consume themselves in little time.

Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old, What 'tis to love ? how want of love tormenteth ? Ill natur’d, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, O had thy mother borne so bad a mind, O'er-worn, despised, rheumatic and cold,

She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind. Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice, What am I, that thou should'st contemn me this?

Then might'st thou pause, for then Iwere not for thee; Or what great danger dwells upon my suit?
But having no defects, why dost abhor me?

What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss ?
Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; Speak, fair ; but speak fair words, or else be mute
Mine eyes are grey, and bright, and quick in turning ; Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again,
My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,

And one for interest, if thou wilt liave twain. My fesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning; Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,

My sinooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt, Well painted idol, image, dull and dead,
Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.

Statue, contenting but the eye alone.
Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, Thing like a man, but of no woman bred ;
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,

Thou art no man, though of a man's complcxion, Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,

For men will kiss even by their own direction." Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen: This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, Love is a spirit all compact of fire,

And swelling passion doth provoke a pause ; Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze fortu her wrong :
Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie ; Being judge in love, she cannot right ler cause;
These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me; And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak,
Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky, And now her sobs do her intendments break
From morn till nighi, even where I list, lo sport me : Sometimes she shakes her head, and tien liis hand,

Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground;
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?

Sometimes her arnis infold him like a band; 's thine own heart to thine own face affected ? She would, he will not in her arnis be bound; Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?

And when from thence he struggles to be goue, Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,

She locks her lily fugers, one in one.

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