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With brinish current downward flow'd apace:
O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
Who glaz'd with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue encloses.

"O, father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear!
But with the inundation of the eyes
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
Oa cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath!

"For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
Even there resolv'd my reason into tears;
There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
Appear to him, as he to me appears,

All melting; though our drops this difference bore,
His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.

"In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank,b to weep at woes,
Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows;

"That not a heart which in his level came
Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim:
Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity.

"Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
The naked and concealed fiend he cover❜d,
That th' unexperient gave the tempter place,
Which, like a cherubin, above them hover'd.

Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?

O cleft effect!] So Malone; the quarto reading, "Or cleft effect," &c.; from which unless "effect" stands for effectually, it is not easy to extract any sense.

brank,-] Gross.


- luxury,] Lasciviousness.

d He preach'd pure maid,-] This construction was not uncommon. Compare,

"King John," Act II. Sc. 2,

"He speaks plain cannon-fire, and smoke, and bounce;"

and "Henry V." Act V. Sc. 2,

"I speak to thee plain soldier," &c.

Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make
What I should do again for such a sake.

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O, that infected moisture of his eye,

O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd
O, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly,
O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
O, all that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd,a
Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd,
And new pervert a reconciled maid!"

that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd,-] Owed means possesse; that assumed desire apparently so real.

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THE ensuing collection of irrelative poems, some probably from Shakespeare's hand, but some certainly belonging to other writers, was first published by William Jaggard, in small octavo, with the title,-"The Passionate Pilgrime. By W. Shakespeare. At London. Printed for W. Iaggard, and are to be sold by W. Leake, at the Greyhound in Paules Churchyard, 1599." In 1612 another edition was printed bearing the title of, "The Passionate Pilgrime. Or Certaine Amorous Sonnets, betweene Venus and Adonis, newly corrected and augmented. By W. Shakespere. The third Edition. Where-unto is newly added two LoveEpistles, the first from Paris to Hellen, and Hellen's answere backe againe to Paris. Printed by W. Iaggard, 1612." * The "Love-Epistles" which Jaggard had the audacity to particularise in his title-page, and insert in this reprint as the works of Shakespeare, were two of Ovid's Epistles, that had been translated by Thomas Heywood, and printed with his name in his "Troja Brittannica," &c. 1609. It was not likely that Heywood would patiently submit to this flagrant injustice, and accordingly at the close of a work entitled, "The Apology for Actors," &c. which was published by him in 1612, he appended the following letter to his bookseller, Nicholas Okes :


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To my approved good friend, Mr. Nicholas Okes.

"The infinite faults escaped in my booke of Britaines Troy, by the negligence of the Printer, as the misquotations, mistaking of sillables, misplacing halfe lines, coining of strange and never heard of words. These being without number, when I would have taken a particular account of the Errata, the Printer answered me, hee would not publishe his owne disworkemanship, but rather let his owne fault lye upon the necke of the Author: and being fearfull that others of his quality, had beene of the same nature, and condition, and finding you on the contrary, so carefull and industrious, so serious and laborious, to doe the author all the rights of the presse; I could not choose but gratulate your honest endeavours with this short remembrance. Here likewise, I must necessarily insert a manifest injury done me in that worke, by taking the two Epistles of Paris to Helen, and Helen to Paris, and printing them in a lesse volume under the name of another, which may put the world in opinion I might steal them from him; and hee, to do himselfe right, hath since published them in his owne name: but as I must acknowledge my lines not worthy his patronage under whom he hath publisht them, so the Author I know much offended with M. Jaggard that (altogether unknowne to him) presumed to make so bold with his name. These, and the like dishonesties, I know you to be cleare of; and I could wish but to bee the happy author of so worthie a worke as I could willingly commit to your care and workmanship.

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This exposure, aided probably by the indignant remonstrance of Shakespeare, compelled Jaggard to cancel the original title-page of the 1612 edition, and substitute another, which bore no author's name. Such at least is presumed to have been the case, from the fact that Malone's copy of this edition, by the "fortunate negligence" of the old binder, contains two title-pages, onc with and the other without an author's name.

Although this edition purports to be the third, no intermediate impression between it and the first copy is now known.



DID not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,"
'Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but, I'will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is;
Then, thou fair sun, that on this earth doth shine,
Exhale this vapour vow; in thee it is:

If broken then, it is no fault of mine.

If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To lose an oath to win a paradise?


Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook,

With young Adonis, lovely-fresh and green,
Did court the lad with many a lovely look,-

Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.
She told him stories to delight his ear;b

She show'd him favours to allure his eye;

To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there,—
Touches so soft still conquer chastity ;-

But whether unripe years did want conceit,
Or he refus'd to take her figur'd proffer,

The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,

But smile and jest at every gentle offer:

Then fell she on her back, fair queen and toward;
He rose and ran away,-ah, fool too froward!


If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
O, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd!

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,-] This Sonnet, and two others (Nos. III. and xv.), will be found, with slight variations, in "Love's Labour's Lost." In "The Passionate Pilgrim," it is preceded by two of the Sonnets already given, No. CXXXVIII., beginning,

"When my love swears that she is made of truth," &c.

and No. CXLIV.: "Two loves I have," &c.

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• If love make me forsworn, &c.] See Love's Labour's Lost," Act IV. Sc. 2.

Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll constant prove;
Those thoughts to me like oaks, to thee like osiers bow'd.
Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
Where all those pleasures live that art can comprehend.
If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;
All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:
Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful hunder,
Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.

Celestial as thou art, O, do not love that wrong,

To sing the heavens' praise with such an earthly tongue!


Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,

And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade.
When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,

A longing tarriance for Adonis made
Under an osier growing by a brook,

A brook where Adon used to cool his spleen:
Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim:
The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
Yet not so wistly as this queen on him:

He, spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood;
"O Jove," quoth she, "why was not I a flood!"


Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle;
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle;
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:

A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.

Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coin'd,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth,
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth ;
She fram'd the love, and yet she foil'd the framing,
She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.
Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?
Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.

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