XLII. (G.) FURTHER EXTRACTS FROM THE SAME. BY THE SAME. Invocation for Secrecy at a Love-Meeting. Tamyra. Now all ye peaceful Regents of the Night, Silently-gliding Exhalations, Languishing Winds, and murmuring Falls of Waters, Sadness of Heart, and Ominous Secureness, Enchantment's dead Sleeps; all the Friends of Rest, That ever wrought upon the life of man, Extend your utmost strengths; and this charm'd hour Of Time and Fortune stand; and great Existence, To all but my approaching friend* and me. At the Meeting. 10 Here's nought but whispering with us: like a calm Before a tempest, when the silent air Lays her soft ear close to the earth, to hearken For that she fears is coming to afflict her. Invocation for a Spirit of Intelligence. D'Ambois. I long to know How my dear Mistress fares, and be inform'd * D'Ambois; with whom she has an appointment. 20 And hurl'st instructive fire about the world: Where sense is blindest: open now the heart Of some ill it includes, would fain lie hid, And rise Thou with it in thy greater light.† 10 The Friar dissuades the Husband of Tamyra from revenge. Your wife's offence serves not, were it the worst You can imagine, without greater proofs, To sever your eternal bonds and hearts; Much less to touch her with a bloody hand: To expiate any frailty in your wife, With churlish strokes, or beastly odds of strength; XLIII. (G.) ALL FOOLS: A COMEDY. BY THE SAME. Love's Panegyric. -'tis Nature's second Sun, Causing a spring of Virtues where he shines; 20 He wants to know the fate of Tamyra, whose intrigue with him has been discovered by her Husband: This calling upon Light and Darkness for information, but, above all, the description of the Spirit-"Threw his chang'á countenance headlong into clouds "-is tremendous, to the curdling of the blood. I know nothing in Poetry like it. The thunderbolt. All beauties bred in women are in vain, All virtues born in men lie buried; For Love informs them as the Sun doth colours: Love with Jealousy. -such Love is like a smoky fire In a cold morning. Though the fire be cheerful, Bailiffs routed. I walking in the place where men's law-suits 10 Their valiant Foreman with the word "I 'rest you." Close on his shoulders, tumbling him to earth; Like a baboon: and turning me about, I straight espied the whole troop issuing on me. I stept me back, and drawing my old friend here, To endure the shock, all rudely fell in rout, 20 Mann'd by their Clients (some with ten, some with twenty, Some five, some three; he that had least had one), XLIV. (G.) THE GENTLEMAN USHER: A COMEDY. BY THE SAME. VINCENTIO, a Prince, (to gain him over to his interest in a love-affair), gulls BASSIOLO, a formal Gentleman Usher to a great Lord, with commendations of his wise houseordering at a great Entertainment. Vinc.-besides, good Sir, your Show did shew so well Bass. Did it indeed, my Lord? Vinc. O Sir, believe it, "Twas the best fashion'd and well-order'd thing, So, and in such conformance, with rare grace, 10 Vinc. But shall I tell you plainly my conceit, Touching the man that (I think) caused this order? Bass. Aye, good my Lord. Vinc. You note my simile? Bass. Drawn from the turn-spit. Vinc. I see, you have me. Even as in that quaint engine you have seen * Turn. 20 Some man about him was the festival robe, Bass. I cannot tell, my Lord; but I should know, If any such there were. Vine. Should know, quoth you? I warrant, you know well. Well, some there be (Like brave Beasts to their arms) support their state; When others of as high a worth and breed, Are made the wasteful food of them they feed.- 10 What state hath your Lord made you for your service? The same BASSIOLO described. Lord's Daughter. —his place is great; for he's not only My father's Usher, but the world's beside, Because he goes before it all in folly. XLV. (G.) CÆSAR AND POMPEY: A TRAGEDY. BY THE SAME. Sacrifice. Imperial Cæsar, at your sacred charge, the beast cut up, and laid on the altar, |