You shall not wish me to be more lascivious, Than I intend to be. Moth. Strike not me cold. Cast. How often have you charg'd me on your blessing Your blessing had no force to make me lewd, O let my breath revive it to a flame. Put not all out with woman's wilful follies. I am recover'd of that foul disease That haunts too many mothers; kind, forgive me, My words prevail'd, when they were wickedness, Of the black serpent, as you wound about me! Moth. "Tis unfruitful held, tedious, to repeat what's past. I'm now your present mother. Cast. Pish, now 'tis too late. Moth. Bethink again, thou know'st not what thou say'st. Cast. No! deny advancement! treasure! the duke's son ! Moth. O see, I spoke those words, and now they poison me. What will the deed do then? Advancement! true; as high as shame can pitch! Or could build by the purchase of her sin An hospital to keep their bastards in? The duke's son! Oh; when women are young courtiers, They are sure to be old beggars. To know the miseries most harlots taste, Thou'dst wish thyself unborn when thou'rt unchaste. Cast. O mother, let me twine about your neck, And kiss you till my soul melt on your lips: I did but this to try you. Moth. O, speak truth. Cast. Indeed I did not; for no tongue hath force To alter me from honest: If maidens would, men's words could have no power; VOL. IV.-11 A virgin's honour is a chrystal tower, Which being weak is guarded with good spirits; Until she basely yields, no ill inherits. Moth. O happy child! faith, and thy birth, hath saved me, 'Mongst thousand daughters, happiest of all others; Buy thou a glass for maids, and I for mothers. Evil Report after Death. What is it to have A flattering false insculption on a tomb, [Act iv., Sc. 4.1] And in men's hearts reproach? the 'bowel'd corpse May be sear'd in, but (with free tongue I speak) The faults of great men through their sear-clothes break. Bastards. O what a grief 'tis that a man should live But once in the world, and then to live a Bastard! The curse of the womb, the thief of nature, Too nice respects in Courtship. It is as easy way unto a duchess As to a hatted dame, if her love answer : [Act i., Sc. 2.] [Act i., Sc. 2.] [Act i., Sc. 2.] THE DEVIL'S LAW CASE; OR, WHEN WOMEN GO TO Con. Sir; my love to you has proclaim'd you one, [With the omissions named, the whole Scene.] To the good thought I held of you; and now, Erc. Compare her beauty and my youth together, No miracle at all. Con. Yes, it will prove Prodigious to you: I must stay your voyage. Con. "Tis a seal From heaven to do it, since you'd ravish from me By practice that had giv'n you now for dead You must fight with me. Erc. I will, Sir. Con. And instantly. Erc. I will haste before you. Point whither. Con. Why, you speak nobly; and, for this fair dealing, Were the rich jewel (which we vary for) A thing to be divided, by my life, I would be well content to give you half: But since 'tis vain to think we can be friends, "Tis needful one of us be ta'en away From being the other's enemy. Erc. Yet, methinks, This looks not like a quarrel. Con. Not a quarrel! Erc. You have not apparelled your fury well; It goes too plain, like a scholar. Con. It is an ornament, Makes it more terrible; and you shall find it, By discreet valour; because I do not strike you, Erc. You promise well to yourself. Con. None, for fear of prevention. So whether our time calls us to live or die, Erc. For that, let me embrace you. Con. Methinks, being an Italian, I trust you But your jealousy gave that embrace, to try Erc. No, believe me. I take your heart to be sufficient proof I am arm'd with. Con. You deal equally.1 Sitting for a Picture. Must you have my Picture? It has not been the same; I have known others In half an hour's sitting-in hot weather The painting on their face has been so mellow, [Act ii., Sc. 1.2] 1I have selected this scene as the model of a well-managed and gentlemanlike difference. 2[Dyce's edition.] They have left the poor man harder work by half Honourable Employment. O, my lord, lie not idle: The chiefest action for a man of great spirit We should think; The soul was never put into the body, Which has so many rare and curious pieces Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds: [Act i., Sc. 1.] In the trenches for the soldier; in the wakeful study For men of our profession: of all which Arise and spring up honour. I could wish That noblemen would ever live in the country, Have no such goodly prospects any way Dirge in a Funeral Pageant. All the flowers of the spring Meet to perfume our burying: 1[This quotation precedes the previous one.] [Act i., Sc. 1.] |