tigonus, a nobleman;--But to make an end of the ship: to see how the sea flap-dragoned* it:-but first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them; and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather.

ACT IV.

A GARLAND FOR OLD MEN.

Reverend sirs,

For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep
Seeming, and savour,† all the winter long;
Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing!

NATURE AND ART.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,-Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth. Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o'the season Are our carnations, and streak'd gillyflowers, Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them.

Pol.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them?

Per.

Fort I have heard it said,

There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares
With creating nature.

Pol.

Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art,
Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry

A gentler scion to the wildest stock;

And make conceive a bark of baser kind

By bud of nobler race; This is an art

Which does inend nature,—change it rather: hut The art itself is nature.

A GARLAND FOR MIDDLE-AGED MEN.

" not put

allowed. Likeness and smell. Because that.

The dibble* in earth to set one slip of them;
No more than, were I painted, I would wish

This youth should say, 'twere well; and only therefore

Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savory, majoram;

The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age.

A GARLAND FOR YOUNG MEN.

Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing.

Per.

Out, alas!

You'd be so lean, that blasts of January

Would blow you through and through.-Now my fairest friend,

I would, I had some flowers o' the spring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours;
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing:-0 Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis'st wagon! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend,
To strew him o'er and o'er.

A LOVER'S COMMENDATION.

What you do,

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever: when you sing,

I'd have you buy and sell so; so give aims;

"A tool to set plants.

† Pluto.

Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,
To sing them too: When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do

Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own
No other function: Each your doing,

So singular in each particular,

Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.

TRUE LOVE.

He says, he loves my daughter:

I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon
Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read,
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain,
I think, there is not half a kiss to choose,
Who loves another best.

PRESENTS LIGHTLY REGARDED BY REAL LOVERS.

Pol. How now, fair shepherd'

Your heart is full of something, that does take
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love, as you do, I was wont

To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd
The pedler's silken treasury, and have pour'd it
To her acceptance; you have let him go,
And nothing marted* with him; if your lass
Interpretation should abuse; and call this
Your lack of love, or bounty: you were straitedt
For a reply, at least if you make a care

Of happy holding her.

Flo.

Old sir, I know
She prizes not such trifles as these are:

The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd
Up in my heart; which I have given already,
But not deliver'd.-O, hear me breath my life
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
Hath sometime lov'd: I take thy hand; this hand,
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it;
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow,
That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er.
* Bought, trafficked. † Put to difficulties.
The sieve used to separate flour from bran is called a
bolting-cloth.

A FATHER THE BEST GUEST AT HIS SON'S NUPTIALS. Pol. Methinks, a father

Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest

That best becomes the table. Pray you, once more: Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak? hear?

Know man from man? dispute his own estate?*
Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing,

But what he did being childish?

Flo.
No, good sir:
He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed,
Than most have of his age.

Pol.
By my white beard,
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong

Something unfilial: Reason, my son

Should choose himself a wife: but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity,) should hold some counsel
In such a business.

RURAL SIMPLICITY.

I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,
I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,
The self-same sun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike.

LOVE CEMENTED BY PROSPERITY, BUT LOOSENED BY
ADVERSITY.

Prosperity's the very bond of love;

Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Affliction alters.

ACT V.

WONDER, PROCEEDING FROM SUDDEN JOY.

There was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture; they looked, as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: A notable passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest

Talk over his affairs.

beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say, if the importance* were joy, or sorrow: but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

A STATUTE.

What was he, that did make it?-See, my lord, Would you not deem, it breath'd? and that those

veins

Did verily bear blood?

Pol.

Masterly done: The very life seems warm upon her lip.

Leon. The fixure of her eye has motion in'tt As we are mock'd with art.

Still, methinks

There is an air comes from her; What fine chisel Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, For I will kiss her.

A WIDOW COMPARED TO A TURTLE.

I, an old turtle,

Will wing me to some wither'd bow; and there
My mate, that's never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.

*The thing imported.

ti. e. Though her eye be fixed, it seems to have motion in it.

+ As if.