Of precise black, chiefly in Venice state
Where merchants guilt the top. 34
And therefore should you have him pass
Up the Rialto like a Soldier;

the bridge

In a black bever belt, ash colour plain,
A Florentine clot'h-o-silver jerkin, sleeves
White satin cut on tinsel, then long stock;

French panes embroider'd, goldsmith's work: O God,
Methinks I see him, how he would walk,

With what a jolly presence he would pace
Round the Rialto. 35

Scholar and his Dog.

I was a scholar: seven useful springs
Did I deflower in quotations

Of cross'd opinions 'bout the soul of man;
The more I learnt, the more I learnt to doubt.
Delight my spaniel slept, whilst I baus'd leaves,
Toss'd o'er the dunces, pored on the old print
Of titled words: and still my spaniel slept.
Whilst I wasted lamp-oil, baited my flesh,
Shrunk up my veins: and still my spaniel slept.
And still I held converse with Zabarell,
Aquinas, Scotus, and the musty saw
Of antick Donate: still my spaniel slept.

34" Her whose merchant Sons were Kings." Collins.

Still

35 To judge of the liberality of these notions of dress we must advert to the days of Gresham, and the consternation which a Phenomenon habited like the Merchant here described would have excited among the flat round caps, and cloth stockings, upon Change, when those "original arguments or tokens of a Citizen's vocation were in fashion not more for thrift and usefulness than for distinction and grace." The blank uniformity to which all professional distinc tions in apparel have been long hastening, is one instance of the Decay of Symbols among us, which whether it has contributed or not to make us a more intellectual, has certainly made us a less imaginative people. Shakspeare knew the force of signs :-" a malignant and a turban'd Turk." "This meal-cap Miller" says the Author of God's Revenge against Murder, to express his indignation at an atrocious outrage committed by the miller Pierot upon the person of the fair Marieta.

Still on went I; first, an sit anima;

Then, an it were mortal. O hold, hold; at that
They're at brain-buffets, fell by the ears amain
Pell-mell together: still my spaniel slept.
Then, whether 'twere corporeal, local, fixt,
Ex traduce, but whether 't had free will
Or no, hot Philosophers

Stood banding factions, all so strongly propt,
I stagger'd, knew not which was firmer part,
But thought, quoted, read, observ'd, and pryed,
Stufft noting-books: and still my spaniel slept.
At length he wak'd, and yawn'd; and by yon sky,
For ought I know he knew as much as I.

Preparations for Second Nuptials.

Now is Albano's 36 marriage-bed new hung
With fresh rich curtains, now are my valence up,
Imbost with orient pearl, my grandsire's gift,
Now are the lawn sheets fum'd with violets
To fresh the pall'd lascivious appetite,

Now work the cooks, the pastry sweats with slaves,
The march-panes glitter, now now the musicians
Hover with nimble sticks o'er squeaking crowds, 37
Tickling the dried guts of a mewing cat:

The taylors, starchers, semsters, butchers, poulterers,
Mercers, all, all-none think on me.

35 Albano, the first husband, speaks; supposed dead.
37 Fiddles.

CESAR

CESAR AND POMPEY:

A TRAGEDY. BY GEORGE CHAPMAN,

Sacrifice.

Imperial Cæsar, at your sacred charge
I drew a milk white ox into the Temple,
And turning there his face into the East
(Fearfully shaking at the shining light)
Down fell his horned forehead to his hoof.
When I began to greet him with the stroke
That should prepare him for the holy rites,
With hideous roars he laid out such a throat
As made the secret lurkings of the God
To answer Echo-like in threat'ning sounds:
I struck again at him, and then he slept;
His life-blood boiling out at every wound
In streams as clear as any liquid ruby.

the beast cut up, and laid on the altar, His limbs were all lickt up with instant flames; Not like the elemental fire that burns

In household uses, lamely struggling up,
This way and that way winding as it rises,
But right and upright reacht his proper sphere
Where burns the fire eternal and sincere.

Joy unexpected, best.

Joys unexpected, and in desperate plight,

Are still most sweet, and prove from whence they come ; When earth's still moon-like confidence in joy

Is at her full: True Joy descending far

From past her sphere, and from that highest heaven
That moves and is not moved.

Inward Help the best Help.

I will stand no more

On others' legs, nor build one joy without me,

If ever I be worth a house again,

I'll build all inward: not a light shall ope
The common out-way: no expence, no art,
No ornament, no door, will I use there;
But raise all plain and rudely like a rampire,
Against the false society of men,

That still batters

All reason piece-meal; and, for earthly greatness
All heavenly comforts rarifies to air.

I'll therefore live in dark; and all my light,
Like ancient Temples, let in at my top.
That were to turn one's back to all the world,
And only look at heaven.

When our diseas'd affections

Harmful to human freedom, and storm-like
Inferring darkness to th' infected mind,
Oppress our comforts: 'tis but letting in
The light of reason, and a purer spirit
Take in another way; like rooms that fight
With windows 'gainst the wind, yet let in light.

BUSSY

BUSSY D'AMBOIS, A TRAGEDY; BY GEORGE
CHAPMAN.

A Nuntius (or Messenger) in the presence of King Henry the Third of France and his court tells the manner of a combat, to which he was witness, of three to three; in which D'Ambois remained sole survivor: begun upon an affront passed upon D'Ambois by some courtiers.

HENRY, GUISE, BEAUPRE, NUNTIUS, &c.

Nuntius. I saw fierce D'Ambois and his two brave
friends

Enter the field, and at their heels their foes,
Which were the famous soldiers, Barrisor,
L'Anou, and Pyrrhot, great in deeds of arms:
All which arriv'd at the evenest piece of earth
The field afforded, the three challengers

Turn'd head, drew all their rapiers, and stood rank'd;
When face to face the three defendants met them,
Alike prepar'd, and resolute alike.

Like bonfires of contributory wood

Every man's look shew'd, fed with other's spirit;
As one had been a mirror to another,

Like forms of life and death each took from other:
And so were life and death mix'd at their heights,
That you could see no fear of death (for life)
Nor love of life (for death); but in their brows
• Pyrrho's opinion in great letters shone;

That "life and death in all respects are one."

Henry. Past there no sort of words at their encounter? Nuntius. As Hector twixt the hosts of Greece and Troy, When Paris and the Spartan king should end

The nine years war, held up his brazen lance
For signal that both hosts should cease from arms,
And hear him speak: so Barrisor (advis'd)

Advanc'd