But pardon, father Neftor; were your days Aax. Shall I call you father? Ulf. Ay, my good fon. Do. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax. Uly. There isnotarrying here; the hart Achilles Keeps thicket; please it our great general To call together all his ftate of war; Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow, friends, We muft with all our main of pow'r stand fast, And here's a lord-come knights from east to west,| And cull their flow'r, Ajax fhall cope the beft. Aga. Go we to council. Let Achilles fleep Light boats fail fwift, tho' greater hulks draw decp. [Exeunt. An expecting Lover. No, Pandarus: I ftalk about her door, I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. That it enchants my fenfe; what will it be, My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse; Conftancy in Love protested. to come Troilus. True fwains in love fhall in the world [rhimes, Approve their truths by Troilus: when their Full of proteft, of oath, and big compare, Want fimiles: truth tried with iterationAs true as fteel, as plantage to the moon, As fun to day, as turtle to her mate, As iron to adamant, as earth to the centreYet, after all comparisons of truth, As truth's authentic author to be cited, Astrue as Troilus, fhall crown up the verse, And fanctify the numbers. Cref. Prophet may you be ! If I be falfe, or fwerve a hair from truth, Upbraid myfalfehood! when they have faid-as falle Pride cures Pride. Pride hath no other glafs To fhew itself, but pride; for fupple knees Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. Greatness contemptible when it declines. tune, 'Tis certain, greatnefs, once fallen out with forMuft fall out with men too: what the declin'd is, He fhall as foon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies, Shew not their mealy wings but to the fummer: And not a man, for being fimply man, Hath any honour; but honour for those honours Which, when they fall, as being flippery ftanders, Die in the fall. Honour, continued Acts neceffary to preferve its Luftre. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, In monumental mockery. Take the inftant way, That one by one purfue; if you give way, Or, like a galiant horse fall'n in first rank, Tho' lefs than yours in paft, muft o'ertop yours. That flightly shakes his parting gueft by the hand; Injurious time now, with a robber's hafte, Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how: As many farewels as be stars in heaven, With diftinct breath and confign'd killes to them, He fumbles up into a loofe adicu; And feants us with a fingle famith'd kiss, Diftafted with the falt of broken tears. Troilus's Character of the Grecian Youths. The Grecian youths are full of quality, To every ticklish reader! fet them down The Character of Troilus. The youngest fon of Priam, a true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchlefs; firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedlefs in his tongue; Not foon provok 'd,nor,being provok'd,foon caim'd: His heart and hand both open, and both free; For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he fhews; Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath: Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, fubfcribes To tender objects; but he, in heat of action, Is more vindicative than jealous love. Hector in Battle. I have, thou gallant Trojan, feen thee oft, As hot as Perfeus, fpur thy Phrygian steed, They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of na- And I have feen thee paufe, and take thy breath, ture flowing, When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in, Like an Olympian wrestling. Achilles furveying He&or. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I deftroy him? whether there, there, there; That I may give the local wound a name; And make diftinct the very breach, whereout Hector's great fpirit flew. Antwer me, heavens ! Honour more dear than Life. Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate; Life every man holds dear; but the brave man Holds honour far more precious-dear than life. Pity to be difcarded in War. For the love of all the gods Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother; And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our fwords! Rafb Vows. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than fpotted livers in the facrifice. PATHETIC PATHETIC PIECES. Ife thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes. Der. 'Tis the firft juftice thou haft ever done me; Then, tho' I loath this woman's war of tongue, Yet fhall my caufe of vengeance first be clear: And, Honour, be thou judge. Seb. Honour befriend us both. I warn thee thus, becaufe I know thy temper Dor. And well I might,when you forgot reward, And hurried me from hopes of heaven to hell. Seb. Thy old prefumptuous arrogance again, Thy hungry minions thought th irrights invaded, And the bread fhatch'd from pups and parafites. Henriquez anfwered, with a ready lye, To fave his king's, the boon was begg'd before. Seb. What fay't thou of Henriquez ? Now by Heaven That thing, that nothing but a cringe and finile; That woman, but more daub'd; or, if a man, Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress. Seb. All falfe as hell, or thou. Dor. Yes; full as falfe As that I ferv'd thee fifteen hard campaigns, Seb. I fee to what thou tend'ft; but tell me first, I muft and will reproach thee with my fervice,But all th' advantage of that love was thine: Tyrant (it irks me fo to call my prince), But just refentment and hard ufage coin'd Th' unwilling word; and, grating as it is, Take it, for 'tis thy due. Seb. How, tyrant! Dor. Tyrant! Seb. Traitor! that name thou canst not echo back: That robe of infamy, that circumcifion Ill hid beneath that robe, proclaim thee traitor: And, if a name More foul than traitor be, 'tis renegade. [rant, Dor. If I'm a traitor, think, and bluth, thou tyWhofe injuries betray'd me into treafon, Effac'd my loyalty, unhing'd my faith, For, coming fraughted back, in either hand Sch. I meant thee a reward of greater worth. Dor. Where juftice wanted, could reward be hop'd? Could the robb'd paffenger expect a bounty Froin thofer pacious hands who ftripp'd him first ? Seb. He had my promife, ere I knew thy love. Dor. My fervices deferv'd thou shouldit reyoke it. Seb. Seb. Thy infolence had cancell'd all thy fervice; To violate my laws, even in my court, Sacred to peace, and fafe from all affronts; Even to my face, and done in my defpite, Under the wing of awful majefty, To ftrike the man I lov'd! Dor. Ev'n in the face of heaven, a place more facred, Would I have ftruck the man, who, prompt by pow'r, Would seize my right, and rob me of my love: To meet thy challenge fairly: 'twas thy fault Dor. On pain of infamy Seb. The indignity thou didst was meant to me: To tell me what I durft not tell myself: He has; and hooting boys may dryshod pass, Be urg'd to fhield me from thy bold appeal. Dor. Thou know'ft I have: Seb. No; to difprove that lye I must not draw: Dor. I'll cut that ifthmus: Thou know'ft I meant not to preferve thy life, Now draw; I fhould be loth to think thou dar'st not: Beware of fuch another vile excufe. Seb. O, patience, Heaven! Dor. Beware of patience too; That's a fufpicious word: it had been proper, Before thy foot had fpurn'd me; now 'tis base: Yet, to difarm thee of thy last defence, I have thy oath for my fecurity: The only boon I begg'd was this fair combat : Fight or be perjur'd now; that's all thy choice. Seb. Now can I thank thee as thou wouldst be thank'd: [Drawing. Never was vow of honour better paid, If my true fword but hold, than this fhall be. The fprightly bridegroom on his wedding-night More gladly enters not the lifts of love. Why 'tis enjoyment to be fummon'd thus. Go; bear my meffage to Henriquez' ghost, And fay his mafter and his friend reveng'd him. Dor. His ghoft then is my hated rival dead? Seb. The question is befide our prefent purpose. Thou feeft me ready; we delay too long. Dor. A minute is not much in either's life, When there's but one betwixt us; throw it in, And give it him of us who is to fall. Seb. He's dead: make hafte, and thou mayst yet o'ertake him. Dor. When I was hafty, thou delay'ft me longer. I pr'ythee let me hedge one moment more Into thy promife: for thy life preferv'd, Be kind; and tell me how that rival died, Whofe death next thine I wish'd. Seb. If it would pleafe thee, thou shouldft never But thou, like jealoufy, enquir'ft a truth, Dor. I never can forgive him fuch a death! Now judge thyfelf who beft deferv'd my love. Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fall'n; And fo, had I been favour'd, had I ftood. Seb. What had been, is unknown; what is, apConfefs he justly was preferr'd to thee. [pears: Dor. Had I been born with his indulgent stars, My fortune had been his, and his been mine. O, worse than hell! what glory have I loft, And what has he acquir'd by fuch a death! I fhould have fallen by Sebaftian's fide, My corpfe had been the bulwark of my king : His glorious end was a patch'd work of fate, Ill forted with a foft effeminate life: It fuited better with my life than his So to have died: mine had been of a piece, Spent in your fervice, dying at your feet. Seb. Seb. The more effeminate and foft his life, The more his fame, to ftruggle to the field, And meet his glorious fate: confefs, proud spirit, (For I will have it from thy very mouth) That better he deferv'd my love than thou. Dor. O, whither wouldst thou drive me? I muft grant, Yes, I muft grant, but with a fwelling foul, Seb. Thou might ft have given it a more gentle name: Thou meau'ft to kill a tyrant, not a king. Speak, didft thou not, Alonzo? Dor. Can I fpeak? Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo: Seb. Yet twice this day I ow'd my life to Dorax. repent: Thou couldst not be a villain, tho' thou wouldft: But thou prevent'ft me ftill in all that's noble. Compell'd to wed, because the was my ward, Dor. Have I been curfing Heaven,while Heaven blefs'd me! I fhall run mad with ecftafy of joy: Seb. Art thou fo generous too, to pity him ? Dor. What, my Alonzo, faid you? my Alonzo! Let my fears thank you, for I cannot speak ; And if I could, [mine. Words were not made to vent fuch thoughts as Seb. Thou canst not fpeak, and I can ne'er be filent. Some ftrange reverse of fate muft fure attend Ant. 38. Antony and Ventidius. DRYDEN. THEY tell me 'tis my birth-day; and I'l keep it With double pomp of fadnefs. 'Tis what the day deferves which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the meteor of the world, Hung in the fkies, and blazing as I travell'd, Till all my fires were ipent, and then caft downwards To be trod out by Cæfar? Vent. [Afide] On my foul Now, Antony, wouldst thou be born for this? Vent. [Afide] How forrow shakes him ! Art. [Having thrown himself down.] Lie ftill and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't. Vent. Methinks, I fancy Ant. The herd come jumping by me, And fearlefs quench their that while 1 lock on, and take me for their fellow-ciuzen. |