Stood Dido, with a willow in her hand, Upon the wild sea-banks and waved her love To come again to Carthage. Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew: And with an unthrift love did run from Venice Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well; Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Slander her love, and he forgave it her. Jes. I would out-night you, did nobody come. But hark! I hear the footing of a man. Enter STEPHANO. Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? Steph. A friend. Lor. A friend? What friend? Your name, I pray you, friend? Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word, My mistress will before the break of day, Be here at Belmont. She doth stray about Lor. Who comes with her? Steph. None but a holy hermit and her maid; I pray you, is my master yet return'd? Lor. He is not, now we have not heard from him But go we in, I pray thee Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter;-Why should we go in? My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you Within the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your music forth into the air.— Exit STEPHANO. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Sit, Jessica: look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims: Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it. Enter MUSICIANS. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn: With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, [Music.] Jes. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, If they but hear perchance, a trumpet sound, Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand- By the sweet power of music:-Therefore the poet Enter PORTIA and NERISSA, at a distance. Ner. When the moon shone we did not see the candle. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by; and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music! hark! Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. The nightingale, if she should sing by day, How many things by season, season'd are, Lor. That is the voice Or I am much deceived, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. GALLERY OF BEAUTY. For where is any author in the world The attempt to paint Shakspeare's Beauties, has failed; they are spiritual beings, and are known only by the effect they have upon the spirit. Their characteristics consist in the capability of acting to perfection the part which they are introduced to play. The poet portrays a few features, leaving the rest to the imagination of the reader, so that it is as impossible to reproduce his characters with the pencil, as it is to act his plays on the stage, so as to realize the conceptions formed of them in the closet. Woman, in Shakspeare's plays, is conditioned much like UNA, or Truth, in the Fairy Queen; she does not accelerate the action, but her fate is generally involved in the result of it. Ferdinand. MIRANDA. Admir'd Miranda! Indeed the top of admiration; worth What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady Did quarrel with the noblest grace she own'd, I do not know Mira. One of my sex; no woman's face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men, than you, good friend, And my dear father: how features are abroad, I am skill-less of; but by my modesty, (The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish Nor can imagination form a shape Something too wildly, and my father's precepts, SONG. Juno. Honor, riches, marriage blessing, Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you! Juno sings her blessings on you. Ceres. Earth's increase, and foison plenty; Barns and garners never empty; Vines with clust'ring bunches growing; Plants with goodly burden bowing; Proteus. JULIA. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart: Here is her oath for love, her honor's pawn; |