Quotes by John Dryden

But if I basely could forget my vow, Poor helpless innocence, what would you do? _Palm._ In woods, and plains, where first my love began, There would I live, retired from faithless man: I'd sit all day within some lonely shade, Or that close arbour which your hands have made: I'd search the groves, and every tree, to find Where you had carved our names upon the rind: Your hook, your scrip, all that was yours, I'd keep, And lay them by me when I went to sleep. Thus would I live: And maidens, when I die, Upon my hearse white true-love-knots should tie; And thus my tomb should be inscribed above, _Here the forsaken Virgin rests from love._ _Leon._ Think not that time or fate shall e'er divide Those hearts, which love and mutual vows have tied. But we must part; farewell, my love. _Palm._ Till when? _Leon._ Till the next age of hours we meet again. Meantime, we may, When near each other we in public stand, Contrive to catch a look, or steal a hand: Fancy will every touch and glance improve; And draw the most spirituous parts of love. Our souls sit close, and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch. [_Exeunt._ ACT III. SCENE I. _Enter_ RHODOPHIL, _meeting_ DORALICE _and_ ARTEMIS; RHODOPHIL _and_ DORALICE _embrace._ _Rho._ My own dear heart! _Dor._ My own true love! [_She starts back._] I had forgot myself to be so kind; indeed, I am very angry with you, dear; you are come home an hour after you appointed: if you had staid a minute longer, I was just considering whether I should stab, hang, or drown myself. [_Embracing him._ _Rho._ Nothing but the king's business could have hindered me; and I was so vexed, that I was just laying down my commission, rather than have failed my dear. [_Kisses her hand._ _Arte._ Why, this is love as it should be betwixt man and wife: such another couple would bring marriage into fashion again. But is it always thus betwixt you? _Rho._ Always thus! this is nothing. I tell you, there is not such a pair of turtles in Sicily; there is such an eternal cooing and kissing betwixt us, that indeed it is scandalous before civil company.

But thou, false Arcite, never shall obtain Thy bad pretence; I told thee first my pain; For first my love began ere thine was born: Thou as my council, and my brother sworn, Art bound to assist my eldership of right, Or justly to be deem'd a perjured knight. 310 Thus Palamon: but Arcite with disdain In haughty language thus replied again: Forsworn thyself: the traitor's odious name I first return, and then disprove thy claim. If love be passion, and that passion nursed With strong desires, I loved the lady first. Canst thou pretend desire, whom zeal inflamed To worship, and a power celestial named? Thine was devotion to the blest above, I saw the woman and desired her love; 320 First own'd my passion, and to thee commend The important secret, as my chosen friend. Suppose (which yet I grant not) thy desire A moment elder than my rival fire; Can chance of seeing first thy title prove? And know'st thou not, no law is made for love? Law is to things which to free choice relate; Love is not in our choice, but in our fate; Laws are but positive; love's power, we see, Is Nature's sanction, and her first decree. 330 Each day we break the bond of human laws For love, and vindicate the common cause. Laws for defence of civil rights are placed, Love throws the fences down, and makes a general waste; Maids, widows, wives, without distinction fall; The sweeping deluge, love, comes on, and covers all. If, then, the laws of friendship I transgress, I keep the greater, while I break the less; And both are mad alike, since neither can possess. Both hopeless to be ransom'd, never more 340 To see the sun, but as he passes o'er. Like Æsop's hounds contending for the bone, Each pleaded right, and would be lord alone: The fruitless fight continued all the day; A cur came by, and snatch'd the prize away. As courtiers, therefore, jostle for a grant, And when they break their friendship, plead their want; So thou, if fortune will thy suit advance, Love on, nor envy me my equal chance; For I must love, and am resolved to try 350 My fate, or, failing in the adventure, die.

Tis only nonsense, because I speak it, who am a poor fellow; but it would be sense, and substantial sense, if a great man said it, that was backed with a title, and the eloquence of ten thousand pounds a-year. _Amph._ No more; but let us enter:--Hold! my Alcmena is coming out, and has prevented me: how strangely will she be surprised to see me here so unexpectedly! _Enter_ ALCMENA _and_ PHÆDRA. _Alcm._ [_To_ PHÆD.] Make haste after me to the temple; that we may thank the gods for this glorious success, which Amphitryon has had against the rebels--O heaven! [_Seeing him._ _Amph._ Those heavens, and all the blessed inhabitants, [_Saluting her._ Grant, that the sweet rewarder of my pains May still be kind, as on our nuptial night! _Alcm._ So soon returned! _Amph._ So soon returned! Is this thy welcome home? [_Stepping back._ So soon returned, says I am come unwished. This is no language of desiring love: Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; And every little absence is an age. _Alcm._ What says my lord? _Amph._ No, my Alcmena, no: True love by its impatience measures time, And the dear object never comes too soon. _Alcm._ Nor ever came you so, nor ever shall; But you yourself are changed from what you were, Palled in desires, and surfeited of bliss. Not so I met you at your last return; When yesternight I flew into your arms, And melted in your warm embrace. _Amph._ How's this? _Alcm._ Did not my soul even sparkle at my eyes, And shoot itself into your much-loved bosom? Did I not tremble with excess of joy? Nay agonize with pleasure at your sight, With such inimitable proofs of passion, As no false love could feign? _Amph._ What's this you tell me? _Alcm._ Far short of truth, by heaven! And you returned those proofs with usury; And left me, with a sigh, at break of day. Have you forgot? _Amph._ Or have you dreamt, Alcmena? Perhaps some kind, revealing deity Has whispered, in your sleep, the pleasing news Of my return, and you believed it real; Perhaps too, in your dream, you used me kindly; And my preventing image reaped the joys You meant, awake, to me.

At this, with look serene, he raised his head; Reason resumed her place, and passion fled: Then thus aloud he spoke: The power of love, 350 In earth, and seas, and air, and heaven above, Rules, unresisted, with an awful nod; By daily miracles declared a god: He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind; And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind. Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon, Freed from my fetters, and in safety gone, What hinder'd either in their native soil At ease to reap the harvest of their toil? But Love, their lord, did otherwise ordain, 360 And brought them in their own despite again, To suffer death deserved; for well they know, 'Tis in my power, and I their deadly foe. The proverb holds, that to be wise and love, Is hardly granted to the gods above. See how the madmen bleed! behold the gains With which their master, Love, rewards their pains! For seven long years, on duty every day, Lo, their obedience, and their monarch's pay: Yet, as in duty bound, they serve him on; 370 And, ask the fools, they think it wisely done; Nor ease, nor wealth, nor life itself regard, For 'tis their maxim, Love is love's reward. This is not all; the fair, for whom they strove, Nor knew before, nor could suspect their love; Nor thought, when she beheld the sight from far, Her beauty was the occasion of the war. But sure a general doom on man is past, And all are fools and lovers, first or last: This both by others and myself I know, 380 For I have served their sovereign long ago; Oft have been caught within the winding train Of female snares, and felt the lover's pain, And learn'd how far the god can human hearts constrain. To this remembrance, and the prayers of those Who for the offending warriors interpose, I give their forfeit lives; on this accord, To do me homage as their sovereign lord; And, as my vassals, to their utmost might, Assist my person, and assert my right. 390 This freely sworn, the knights their grace obtain'd; Then thus the king his secret thoughts explain'd: If wealth, or honour, or a royal race, Or each, or all, may win a lady's grace, Then either of you knights may well deserve A princess born; and such is she you serve: For Emily is sister to the crown, And but too well to both her beauty known: But should you combat till you both were dead, Two lovers cannot share a single bed: 400 As, therefore, both are equal in degree, The lot of both be left to destiny.

I thought, before you drew your latest breath, To smooth your passage, and to soften death; For I would have you, when you upward move, Speak kindly of me, to our friends above: Nor name me there the occasion of our fate; Or what my interest does, impute to hate. _Aur._ I ask not for what end your pomp's designed; Whether to insult, or to compose my mind: I marked it not; But, knowing death would soon the assault begin, Stood firm collected in my strength within: To guard that breach did all my forces guide, And left unmanned the quiet sense's side. _Nour._ Because Morat from me his being took, All I can say will much suspected look: 'Tis little to confess, your fate I grieve; Yet more than you would easily believe. _Aur._ Since my inevitable death you know, You safely unavailing pity shew: 'Tis popular to mourn a dying foe. _Nour._ You made my liberty your late request; Is no return due from a grateful breast? I grow impatient, 'till I find some way, Great offices, with greater, to repay. _Aur._ When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse, and, while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage! None would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; And, from the dregs of life, think to receive, What the first sprightly running could not give. I'm tired with waiting for this chemic gold, Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. _Nour._ 'Tis not for nothing that we life pursue; It pays our hopes with something still that's new: Each day's a mistress, unenjoyed before; Like travellers, we're pleased with seeing more. Did you but know what joys your way attend, You would not hurry to your journey's end. _Aur._ I need not haste the end of life to meet; The precipice is just beneath my feet. _Nour._ Think not my sense of virtue is so small: I'll rather leap down first, and break your fall. My Aureng-Zebe, (may I not call you so?) [_Taking him by the hand.

The frighted sailors tried their strength in vain To turn the stern, and tempt the stormy main; But the stiff wind withstood the labouring oar, And forced them forward on the fatal shore! The crooked keel now bites the Rhodian strand, And the ship moored constrains the crew to land: Yet still they might be safe, because unknown; But, as ill fortune seldom comes alone, The vessel they dismissed was driven before, Already sheltered on their native shore; Known each, they know, but each with change of chear; The vanquished side exults, the victors fear; Not them but theirs, made prisoners ere they fight, Despairing conquest, and deprived of flight. The country rings around with loud alarms, And raw in fields the rude militia swarms;[220] Mouths without hands; maintained at vast expence, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence; Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, And ever, but in times of need, at hand: This was the morn when, issuing on the guard, Drawn up in rank and file they stood prepared Of seeming arms to make a short essay, Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day. The cowards would have fled, but that they knew Themselves so many, and their foes so few; But, crowding on, the last the first impel, Till overborne with weight the Cyprians fell; Cymon enslaved, who first the war begun, And Iphigene once more is lost and won. Deep in a dungeon was the captive cast, Deprived of day, and held in fetters fast; His life was only spared at their request, Whom taken he so nobly had released: But Iphigenia was the ladies care, } Each in their turn addressed to treat the fair; } While Pasimond and his the nuptial feast prepare. } Her secret soul to Cymon was inclined, } But she must suffer what her fates assigned; } So passive is the church of womankind. } What worse to Cymon could his fortune deal, Rolled to the lowest spoke of all her wheel? It rested to dismiss the downward weight, Or raise him upward to his former height: The latter pleased; and love (concerned the most) Prepared the amends, for what by love he lost.

With that she spread a mantle on the ground, And, first inquiring whither he was bound, Bade him not fear, though long and rough the way, At court he should arrive ere break of day; His horse should find the way without a guide. She said: with fury they began to ride, 260 He on the midst, the beldam at his side. The horse what devil drove I cannot tell, But only this, they sped their journey well: And all the way the crone inform'd the knight, How he should answer the demand aright. To court they came; the news was quickly spread Of his returning to redeem his head. The female senate was assembled soon, With all the mob of women in the town: The queen sat lord chief-justice of the hall, 270 And bade the crier cite the criminal. The knight appear'd; and silence they proclaim; Then first the culprit answer'd to his name: And, after forms of law, was last required To name the thing that women most desired. The offender, taught his lesson by the way, And by his counsel order'd what to say, Thus bold began: My lady liege, said he, What all your sex desire is Sovereignty. The wife affects her husband to command; 280 All must be hers, both money, house, and land. The maids are mistresses even in their name; And of their servants full dominion claim. This, at the peril of my head, I say, A blunt plain truth, the sex aspires to sway, You to rule all, while we, like slaves, obey. There was not one, or widow, maid, or wife, But said the knight had well deserved his life. Even fair Geneura, with a blush, confess'd The man had found what women love the best. Upstarts the beldam, who was there unseen, 290 And, reverence made, accosted thus the queen: My liege, said she, before the court arise, May I, poor wretch, find favour in your eyes, To grant my just request? 'twas I who taught The knight this answer, and inspired his thought; None but a woman could a man direct To tell us women what we most affect. But first I swore him on his knightly troth, (And here demand performance of his oath) 300 To grant the boon that next I should desire; He gave his faith, and I expect my hire: My promise is fulfill'd; I saved his life, And claim his debt, to take me for his wife.

If, sir-- [_Coming to him._ _Mor._ No more--set speeches, and a formal tale, With none but statesmen and grave fools prevail. Dry up your tears, and practice every grace, That fits the pageant of your royal place. [_Exit._ _Mel._ Madam, the strange reverse of fate you see: I pitied you, now you may pity me. [_Exit after him._ _Ind._ Poor princess! thy hard fate I could bemoan, Had I not nearer sorrows of my own. Beauty is seldom fortunate, when great: A vast estate, but overcharged with debt. Like those, whom want to baseness does betray, I'm forced to flatter him, I cannot pay. O would he be content to seize the throne! I beg the life of Aureng-Zebe alone. Whom heaven would bless, from pomp it will remove, And make their wealth in privacy and love. [_Exit._ ACT IV. SCENE I. AURENG-ZEBE _alone._ Distrust, and darkness, of a future state, Make poor mankind so fearful of their fate. Death, in itself, is nothing; but we fear, To be we know not what, we know not where. [_Soft music._ This is the ceremony of my fate: A parting treat; and I'm to die in state. They lodge me, as I were the Persian King: And with luxuriant pomp my death they bring. _To him,_ NOURMAHAL. _Nour._ I thought, before you drew your latest breath, To smooth your passage, and to soften death; For I would have you, when you upward move, Speak kindly of me, to our friends above: Nor name me there the occasion of our fate; Or what my interest does, impute to hate. _Aur._ I ask not for what end your pomp's designed; Whether to insult, or to compose my mind: I marked it not; But, knowing death would soon the assault begin, Stood firm collected in my strength within: To guard that breach did all my forces guide, And left unmanned the quiet sense's side. _Nour._ Because Morat from me his being took, All I can say will much suspected look: 'Tis little to confess, your fate I grieve; Yet more than you would easily believe. _Aur._ Since my inevitable death you know, You safely unavailing pity shew: 'Tis popular to mourn a dying foe.

Of these a slaughter'd army lay in blood, Extended o'er the Caledonian wood, Their native walk; whose vocal blood arose, And cried for pardon on their perjured foes. Their fate was fruitful, and the sanguine seed, Endued with souls, increased the sacred breed. So captive Israel multiplied in chains, A numerous exile, and enjoy'd her pains. 20 With grief and gladness mix'd, the mother view'd Her martyr'd offspring, and their race renew'd; Their corpse to perish, but their kind to last, So much the deathless plant the dying fruit surpass'd. Panting and pensive now she ranged alone, And wander'd in the kingdoms once her own, The common hunt, though from their rage restrain'd By sovereign power, her company disdain'd; Grinn'd as they pass'd, and with a glaring eye Gave gloomy signs of secret enmity. 30 'Tis true, she bounded by, and tripp'd so light, They had not time to take a steady sight; For truth has such a face and such a mien, As to be loved needs only to be seen. The bloody Bear, an independent beast, Unlick'd to form, in groans her hate express'd. Among the timorous kind the quaking Hare[94] Profess'd neutrality, but would not swear. Next her the buffoon Ape[95], as Atheists use, Mimick'd all sects, and had his own to choose: 40 Still when the Lion look'd, his knees he bent, And paid at church a courtier's compliment. The bristled Baptist Boar, impure as he, But whiten'd with the foam of sanctity, With fat pollutions fill'd the sacred place, And mountains levell'd in his furious race; So first rebellion founded was in grace. But since the mighty ravage, which he made In German forests, had his guilt betray'd, With broken tusks, and with a borrow'd name; 50 He shunn'd the vengeance, and conceal'd the shame: So lurk'd in sects unseen. With greater guile False Reynard[96] fed on consecrated spoil: The graceless beast by Athanasius first Was chased from Nice, then by Socinus nursed: His impious race their blasphemy renew'd, And nature's King through nature's optics view'd.

As, when the dove her rocky hold forsakes, Roused in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes; The cavern rings with clattering; out she flies, And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies: At first she flutters; but at length she springs To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wing: So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea; And, flying with a force, that force assists his way. Sergestus in the Centaur soon he passed, Wedged in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast. In vain the victor he with cries implores, And practises to row with shattered oars. Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies: The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize. Unvanquished Scylla now alone remains; Her he pursues, and all his vigour strains. Shouts from the favouring multitude arise; } Applauding Echo to the shouts replies; } Shouts, wishes, and applause, run rattling through the skies. } These clamours with disdain the Scylla heard, Much grudged the praise, but more the robbed reward: Resolved to hold their own, they mend their pace, All obstinate to die, or gain the race. Raised with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran; For they can conquer, who believe they can. Both urge their oars, and Fortune both supplies, And both perhaps had shared an equal prize; When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands, And succour from the watery powers demands:-- "Gods of the liquid realms, on which I row! } If, given by you, the laurel bind my brow, } (Assist to make me guilty of my vow!) } A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain; His offered entrails cast into the main, And ruddy wine from golden goblets thrown, Your grateful gift and my return shall own." The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus, from below, With virgin Panopea, heard his vow; And old Portunus, with his breadth of hand, Pushed on, and sped the galley to the land. Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies, And, darting to the port, obtains the prize. The herald summons all, and then proclaims Cloanthus conqueror of the naval games. The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head, And three fat steers are to his vessel led, The ship's reward; with generous wine beside, And sums of silver, which the crew divide.

On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire, The danger is less than in hopeless desire; 10 My death's-wound you give, though far off I bear My fall from your sight--not to cost you a tear: But if the kind flood on a wave should convey, And under your window my body should lay, The wound on my breast when you happen to see, You'll say with a sigh--it was given by me. * * * * * XX. ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. AN ODE, IN HONOUR OF ST CECILIA'S DAY. 1 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound (So should desert in arms be crown'd). The lovely Thais, by his side, Sate like a blooming Eastern bride In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. CHORUS. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. 2 Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire. The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above (Such is the power of mighty love). A dragon's fiery form belied the god: Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia press'd: And while he sought her snowy breast: Then, round her slender waist he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity, they shout around, A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.

Thus Arcite having sung, with alter'd hue Sunk on the ground, and from his bosom drew A desperate sigh, accusing Heaven and Fate, And angry Juno's unrelenting hate. Cursed be the day when first I did appear; Let it be blotted from the calendar, 90 Lest it pollute the month, and poison all the year! Still will the jealous queen pursue our race? Cadmus is dead, the Theban city was: Yet ceases not her hate: for all who come From Cadmus are involved in Cadmus' doom. I suffer for my blood: unjust decree! That punishes another's crime on me. In mean estate I serve my mortal foe, The man who caused my country's overthrow. This is not all; for Juno, to my shame, 100 Has forced me to forsake my former name; Arcite I was, Philostratus I am. That side of heaven is all my enemy: Mars ruin'd Thebes: his mother ruin'd me. Of all the royal race remains but one Besides myself, the unhappy Palamon, Whom Theseus holds in bonds, and will not free; Without a crime, except his kin to me. Yet these, and all the rest, I could endure; But love's a malady without a cure: 110 Fierce love has pierced me with his fiery dart; He fires within, and hisses at my heart. Your eyes, fair Emily, my fate pursue; I suffer for the rest, I die for you! Of such a goddess no time leaves record, Who burn'd the temple where she was adored: And let it burn, I never will complain, Pleased with my sufferings, if you knew my pain. At this a sickly qualm his heart assail'd, His ears ring inward, and his senses fail'd. 120 No word miss'd Palamon of all he spoke, But soon to deadly pale he changed his look: He trembled every limb, and felt a smart, As if cold steel had glided through his heart; No longer staid, but starting from his place, Discover'd stood, and show'd his hostile face: False traitor, Arcite! traitor to thy blood! Bound by thy sacred oath to seek my good, Now art thou found forsworn, for Emily; And darest attempt her love, for whom I die. 130 So hast thou cheated Theseus with a wile, Against thy vow, returning to beguile Under a borrow'd name: as false to me, So false thou art to him who set thee free.

The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes, The radiant crest that seemed in flames to rise, And dart diffusive fires around the field, And the keen glittering of the golden shield. Thus threatening comets, when by night they rise, Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies: So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights, Pale human kind with plagues and with dry famine frights. Yet Turnus, with undaunted mind, is bent To man the shores, and hinder their descent, And thus awakes the courage of his friends:-- "What you so long have wished, kind Fortune sends-- In ardent arms to meet the invading foe: You find, and find him at advantage now. Yours is the day: you need but only dare; Your swords will make you masters of the war. Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lands, And dearest wives, are all within your hands. Be mindful of the race from whence you came, And emulate in arms your fathers' fame. Now take the time, while staggering yet they stand With feet unfirm, and prepossess the strand: Fortune befriends the bold." No more he said, But balanced, whom to leave, and whom to lead; Then these elects, the landing to prevent; And those he leaves, to keep the city pent. Meantime the Trojan sends his troops ashore: Some are by boats exposed, by bridges more. With labouring oars they bear along the strand, Where the tide languishes, and leap a-land. Tarchon observes the coast with careful eyes, And, where no ford he finds, no water fries, Nor billows with unequal murmurs roar, But smoothly slide along, and swell the shore, That course he steered, and thus he gave command: "Here ply your oars, and at all hazard land: Force on the vessel, that her keel may wound This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground. Let me securely land--I ask no more; Then sink my ships, or shatter on the shore." This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends: They tug at every oar, and every stretcher bends: They run their ships aground; the vessels knock, (Thus forced ashore,) and tremble with the shock.

and turning like an hunted hare;-- Find out the meaning of her mind who can. _Pedr._ Who ever found a woman's? backward and forward, The whole sex in every word. In my conscience, when she was getting, her mother was thinking of a riddle. [_Exeunt all but the Queen and_ TERESA. _Leo._ Haste, my Teresa, haste, and call him back. _Ter._ Whom, madam? _Leo._ Him. _Ter._ Prince Bertran? _Leo._ Torrismond; There is no other he. _Ter._ [_Aside._] A rising sun, Or I am much deceived. [_Exit_ TERESA. _Leo._ A change so swift what heart did ever feel! It rushed upon me like a mighty stream, And bore me, in a moment, far from shore. I loved away myself; in one short hour Already am I gone an age of passion. Was it his youth, his valour, or success? These might, perhaps, be found in other men: 'Twas that respect, that awful homage, paid me; That fearful love, which trembled in his eyes, And with a silent earthquake shook his soul. But, when he spoke, what tender words he said! So softly, that, like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.-- _Enter_ TERESA _with_ TORRISMOND. _Ter._ He waits your pleasure. _Leo._ 'Tis well; retire.--Oh heavens, that I must speak So distant from my heart!-- [_Aside._ [_To_ TOR.] How now! What boldness brings you back again? _Tor._ I heard 'twas your command. _Leo._ A fond mistake, To credit so unlikely a command; And you return, full of the same presumption, To affront me with your love! _Tor._ If 'tis presumption, for a wretch condemned, To throw himself beneath his judge's feet: A boldness more than this I never knew; Or, if I did, 'twas only to your foes. _Leo._ You would insinuate your past services, And those, I grant, were great; but you confess A fault committed since, that cancels all. _Tor._ And who could dare to disavow his crime, When that, for which he is accused and seized, He bears about him still! My eyes confess it; My every action speaks my heart aloud: But, oh, the madness of my high attempt Speaks louder yet!

Whatever Isabella shall command Shall always be a law to Ferdinand. _Benz._ The frowns of fate we will no longer fear. Ill fate, great queen, can never find us here. _Q. Isabel._ Your thanks some other time I will receive: Henceforward safe in my protection live. Granada is for noble loves renowned: Her best defence is in her lovers found. Love's an heroic passion, which can find No room in any base degenerate mind: It kindles all the soul with honour's fire, To make the lover worthy his desire. Against such heroes I success should fear, Had we not too an host of lovers here. An army, of bright beauties come with me; Each lady shall her servant's actions see: The fair and brave on each side shall contest; And they shall overcome, who love the best. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II.--_The Alhambra._ _Enter_ ZULEMA. _Zul._ True, they have pardoned me; but do they know What folly 'tis to trust a pardoned foe? A blush remains in a forgiven face: It wears the silent tokens of disgrace. Forgiveness to the injured does belong; But they ne'er pardon, who have done the wrong. My hopeful fortunes lost! and, what's above All I can name or think, my ruined love! Feigned honesty shall work me into trust, And seeming penitence conceal my lust. Let heaven's great eye of Providence now take One day of rest, and ever after wake. _Enter_ BOABDELIN, ABENAMAR, _and Guards._ _Boab._ Losses on losses! as if heaven decreed Almanzor's valour should alone succeed. _Aben._ Each sally we have made, since he is gone, Serves but to pull our speedy ruin on. _Boab._ Of all mankind, the heaviest fate he bears, Who the last crown of sinking empire wears. No kindly planet of his birth took care: Heaven's outcast, and the dross of every star! [_A tumultuous noise within._ _Enter_ ABDELMELECH. What new misfortunes do these cries presage? _Abdelm._ They are the effects of the mad people's rage. All in despair tumultuously they swarm: The fairest streets already take the alarm; The needy creep from cellars under ground; To them new cries from tops of garrets sound; The aged from the chimneys seek the cold; And wives from windows helpless infants hold.

Now should they part, malicious tongues would say, They met like chance companions on the way, 50 Whom mutual fear of robbers had possess'd; While danger lasted, kindness was profess'd; But that once o'er, the short-lived union ends; The road divides, and there divide the friends. The Panther nodded when her speech was done, And thank'd her coldly in a hollow tone: But said her gratitude had gone too far For common offices of Christian care. If to the lawful heir she had been true, She paid but Cæsar what was Cæsar's due. 60 I might, she added, with like praise describe Your suffering sons, and so return your bribe: But incense from my hands is poorly prized; For gifts are scorn'd where givers are despised. I served a turn, and then was cast away; You, like the gaudy fly, your wings display, And sip the sweets, and bask in your great patron's day. This heard, the matron was not slow to find What sort of malady had seized her mind: Disdain, with gnawing envy, fell despite, 70 And canker'd malice stood in open sight: Ambition, interest, pride without control, And jealousy, the jaundice of the soul; Revenge, the bloody minister of ill, With all the lean tormentors of the will. 'Twas easy now to guess from whence arose Her new-made union with her ancient foes, Her forced civilities, her faint embrace, Affected kindness with an alter'd face: Yet durst she not too deeply probe the wound, 80 As hoping still the nobler parts were sound: But strove with anodynes to assuage the smart, And mildly thus her medicine did impart. Complaints of lovers help to ease their pain; It shows a rest of kindness to complain; A friendship loath to quit its former hold; And conscious merit may be justly bold. But much more just your jealousy would show, If others' good were injury to you: Witness, ye heavens, how I rejoice to see 90 Rewarded worth and rising loyalty! Your warrior offspring that upheld the crown. The scarlet honour of your peaceful gown, Are the most pleasing objects I can find, Charms to my sight, and cordials to my mind: When virtue spooms before a prosperous gale, My heaving wishes help to fill the sail; And if my prayers for all the brave were heard, Cæsar should still have such, and such should still reward.

With croaking notes they bode some dire event, And follow dying poets by the scent. Ours gives himself for gone; y' have watched your time: He fights this day unarmed,--without his rhyme;-- And brings a tale which often has been told; As sad as Dido's; and almost as old. His hero, whom you wits his bully call, Bates of his mettle, and scarce rants at all; He's somewhat lewd; but a well-meaning mind; Weeps much; fights little; but is wond'rous kind. In short, a pattern, and companion fit, For all the keeping Tonies of the pit. I could name more: a wife, and mistress too; Both (to be plain) too good for most of you: The wife well-natured, and the mistress true. Now, poets, if your fame has been his care, Allow him all the candour you can spare. A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day; Like Hectors in at every petty fray. Let those find fault whose wit's so very small, They've need to show that they can think at all; Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls, must dive below. Fops may have leave to level all they can; As pigmies would be glad to lop a man. Half-wits are fleas; so little and so light, We scarce could know they live, but that they bite. But, as the rich, when tired with daily feasts, For change, become their next poor tenant's guests; Drink hearty draughts of ale from plain brown bowls, And snatch the homely rasher from the coals: So you, retiring from much better cheer, For once, may venture to do penance here. And since that plenteous autumn now is past, Whose grapes and peaches have indulged your taste, Take in good part, from our poor poet's board, Such rivelled fruits as winter can afford. ALL FOR LOVE or THE WORLD WELL LOST A TRAGEDY DRAMATIS PERSONAE MARK ANTONY. VENTIDIUS, his General. DOLABELLA, his Friend. ALEXAS, the Queen's Eunuch. SERAPION, Priest of Isis. MYRIS, another Priest. Servants to Antony. CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt. OCTAVIA, Antony's Wife.

The edge of war I'll from the battle take, And spare her father's subjects for her sake. _Cyd_. I cannot love you less when I'm refused. But I can die to be unkindly used; Where shall a maid's distracted heart find rest. If she can miss it in her lover's breast? _Cort_. I till to-morrow will the fight delay; Remember you have conquered me to-day. _Alib_. This grant destroys all you have urged before; Honour could not give this, or can give more. Our women in the foremost ranks appear; March to the fight, and meet your mistress there: Into the thickest squadrons she must run, Kill her, and see what honour will be won. _Cyd_. I must he in the battle, but I'll go With empty quiver, and unbended bow; Not draw an arrow in this fatal strife, For fear its point should reach your noble life. _Enter_ PIZARRO. _Cort_. No more: your kindness wounds me to the death: Honour, be gone! what art thou but a breath? I'll live, proud of my infamy and shame, Graced with no triumph but a lover's name; Men can but say, love did his reason blind, And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.-- Draw off my men; the war's already done. _Piz_. Your orders come too late, the fight's begun; The enemy gives on, with fury led, And fierce Orbellan combats at their head. _Cort_. He justly fears, a peace with me would prove Of ill concernment to his haughty love; Retire, fair excellence! I go to meet New honour, but to lay it at your feet. [_Exeunt_ CORTEZ, VASQUEZ, _and_ PIZARRO.] _Enter_ ODMAR _and_ GUTOMAR, _to_ ALIBECH _and_ CYDARIA. _Odm_. Now, madam, since a danger does appear Worthy my courage, though below my fear; Give leave to him, who may in battle die, Before his death, to ask his destiny. _Guy_. He cannot die, whom you command to live; Before the fight, you can the conquest give; Speak, where you'll place it? _Alib_. Briefly, then, to both, One I in secret love, the other loathe; But where I hate, my hate I will not show, And he, I love, my love shall never know; True worth shall gain me, that it may be said, Desert, not fancy, once a woman led.

With croaking notes they bode some dire event, And follow dying poets by the scent. Ours gives himself for gone; y' have watched your time: He fights this day unarmed,--without his rhyme;-- And brings a tale which often has been told; As sad as Dido's; and almost as old. His hero, whom you wits his bully call, Bates of his mettle, and scarce rants at all; He's somewhat lewd; but a well-meaning mind; Weeps much; fights little; but is wond'rous kind. In short, a pattern, and companion fit, For all the keeping Tonies of the pit. I could name more: a wife, and mistress too; Both (to be plain) too good for most of you: The wife well-natured, and the mistress true. Now, poets, if your fame has been his care, Allow him all the candour you can spare. A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day; Like Hectors in at every petty fray. Let those find fault whose wit's so very small, They've need to show that they can think at all; Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls, must dive below. Fops may have leave to level all they can; As pigmies would be glad to lop a man. Half-wits are fleas; so little and so light, We scarce could know they live, but that they bite. But, as the rich, when tired with daily feasts, For change, become their next poor tenant's guests; Drink hearty draughts of ale from plain brown bowls, And snatch the homely rasher from the coals: So you, retiring from much better cheer, For once, may venture to do penance here. And since that plenteous autumn now is past, Whose grapes and peaches have indulged your taste, Take in good part, from our poor poet's board, Such rivelled fruits as winter can afford. ALL FOR LOVE or THE WORLD WELL LOST A TRAGEDY DRAMATIS PERSONAE MARK ANTONY. VENTIDIUS, his General. DOLABELLA, his Friend. ALEXAS, the Queen's Eunuch. SERAPION, Priest of Isis. MYRIS, another Priest. Servants to Antony. CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt. OCTAVIA, Antony's Wife.

Some by their friends, more by themselves thought wise, Opposed the power to which they could not rise. Some had in courts been great, and, thrown from thence, Like fiends were harden'd in impenitence. Some, by their monarch's fatal mercy, grown, From pardon'd rebels, kinsmen to the throne, Were raised in power and public office high; Strong bands, if bands ungrateful men could tie. Of these, the false Achitophel was first; 150 A name to all succeeding ages cursed: For close designs, and crooked counsels fit; Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfix'd in principles and place; In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace: A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity; Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, 160 He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands, to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide; Else why should he, with wealth and honour blest, Refuse his age the needful hours of rest? Punish a body which he could not please; Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease? And all to leave what with his toil he won, To that unfeather'd two-legg'd thing, a son; 170 Got, while his soul did huddled notions try; And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy. In friendship false, implacable in hate; Resolved to ruin, or to rule the state. To compass this, the triple bond[69] he broke; The pillars of the public safety shook; And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke: Then seized with fear, yet still affecting fame, Usurp'd a patriot's all-atoning name. So easy still it proves, in factious times, 180 With public zeal to cancel private crimes! How safe is treason, and how sacred ill, Where none can sin against the people's will! Where crowds can wink, and no offence be known, Since in another's guilt they find their own!