Tha. The constant loadstone and the steel are

found

In several mines; yet is there such a league
Between these minerals, as if one vein

Of earth had nourish'd both. The gentle myrtle

Is not engraft upon an olive's stock;

Yet nature hath between them lock'd a secret
Of sympathy, that, being planted near,

They will, both in their branches and their roots,
Embrace each other: twines of ivy round

The well-grown oak; the vine doth court the elm;

Yet these are different plants. Parthenophill,
Consider this aright; then these slight creatures
Will fortify the reasons I should frame

For that unguarded (as thou think'st) affection,
Which is submitted to a stranger's pity.

True love may blush, when shame repents too late;

But in all actions, nature yields to fate.

Par. Great lady, 'twere a dulness must excéed

The grossest and most sottish kind of ignorance, Not to be sensible of your intents;

I clearly understand them. Yet so much

The difference between that height and lowness, Which doth distinguish our unequal fortunes, Dissuades me from ambition; that I am Humbler in my desires, than love's own power Can any way raise up.

Tha. I am a princess,

And know no law of slavery; to sue,
Yet be denied!

Par. I am so much a subject

To every law of noble honesty,

That to transgress the vows of perfect friendship,
I hold a sacrilege as foul, and curs'd,

As if some holy temple had been robb'd,
And I the thief.

Tha. Thou art unwise, young man,

To enrage a lioness.

Par. It were unjust

To falsify a faith; and ever after,

Disrobed of that fair ornament, live naked,

A scorn to time and truth.

Tha. Remember well,

Who I am, and what thou art.

Par. That remembrance

Prompts me to worthy duty. O great lady,
If some few days have tempted your free heart,
To cast away affection on a stranger;
If that affection have so oversway'd

Your judgment, that it, in a manner, hath
Declined your sovereignty of birth and spirit ;
How can you turn your eyes off from that
glass,

Wherein you may new trim, and settle right

A memorable name?

Tha. The youth is idle."

5 The youth is idle.] i. e. talks from the purpose....

F

Par. Days, months, and years are past, since

Menaphon

Hath loved and serv'd you truly; Menaphon,,.
A man of no large distance in his blood
From your's; in qualities desertful, graced
With youth, experience, every happy gift
That can by nature, or by education
Improve a gentleman: for him, great lady,
Let me prevail, that you will yet at last
Unlock the bounty, which your love and care.
Have wisely treasur'd up, to enrich his life.

Tha. Thou hast a moving eloquence, Partheno-
phill!—

Parthenophill, in vain we strive to cross
The destiny that guides us: my great heart
Is stoop'd so much beneath that wonted pride,
That first disguis'd it, that I now prefer

A miserable life with thee, before

All other earthly comforts.

Par. Menaphon,

By me, repeats the self-same words to you:
You are too cruel, if you can distrust

His truth, or my report.

Tha. Go where thou wilt,

I'll be an exile with thee; I will learn

To bear all change of fortunes.

Par. For my friend,

I plead with grounds of reason.

Tha. For thy love,

Hard-hearted youth, I here renounce all thoughts Of other hopes, of other entertainments,—

Par. Stay, as you honour virtue.
Tha. When the proffers

Of other greatness,—
Par. Lady!

Tha. When entreats

Of friends,

Par. I'll ease your grief.
Tha. Respect of kindred,-
Par. Pray, give me hearing.
Tha. Loss of fame,-

Par. I crave

But some few minutes.

Tha. Shall infringe my vows,

Let Heaven,

Par. My love speaks t'ye: hear, then go on. Tha. Thy love? why, 'tis a charm to stop a vow In its most violent course.

Par. Cupid has broke

His arrows here; and, like a child unarm'd,
Comes to make sport between us with no weapon,
But feathers stolen from his mother's doves.
Tha. This is mere trifling.

Par. Lady, take a secret.

I am as you are ;-in a lower rank,

Else of the self-same sex, a maid, a virgin.

And now, to use your own words, "if your

thoughts

Censure me not with mercy, you may soon

Conceive, I have laid by that modesty,

Which should preserve a virtuous name unstain'd."

Tha. Are you not mankind then?
Par. When you shall read

The story of my sorrows, with the change
Of my misfortunes, in a letter printed
From my unforged relation, I believe

You will not think the shedding of one tear,
A prodigality that misbecomes

Your pity and my fortune.

Tha. Pray conceal

The errors of my passions.

Par. Would I had

Much more of honour (as for life, I value't not) To venture on your secrecy!

Tha. It will be

A hard task for my reason, to relinquish
The affection, which was once devoted thine;

I shall awhile repute thee still the youth

I loved so dearly.

Par. You shall find me ever,

Your ready faithful servant.

Tha. O, the powers

Who do direct our hearts, laugh at our follies!
We must not part yet.

Par. Let not my unworthiness

Alter your good opinion.

Tha. I shall henceforth

Be jealous of thy company with any;
My fears are strong and many."

This scene, at once dignified and pathetic, is happily conceived, delicately conducted, and beautifully written. It places Ford's powers of language and command of feeling in a very emi

nent rank.