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A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is

noon.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause :
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is
better.

VIO. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,

I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.

And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

OLI. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move

That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

TWELFTH NIGHT, A. 3, s. 1.

LOVE'S MYSTERIOUS SYMPATHIES

AND ANTIPATHIES.

How happy some, o'er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste:
And therefore is love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where:
For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine;
And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolv'd, and showers of oaths did melt.
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, A. 1, s. 1.

LOVE'S MYSTERIOUS SYMPATHIES

AND ANTIPATHIES.

DEMETRIUS. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.

Where is Lysander, and fair Hermia?
The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
Thou told'st me, they were stol'n into this wood,
And here am I, and wood within this wood,
Because I cannot meet with Hermia.

Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. HELENA. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;

But yet you draw not iron, for my heart

Is true as steel: Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.

DEM. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?

Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth

Tell you-I do not, nor I cannot love you?

HEL. And even for that do I love you the

more.

I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,

The more you beat me, I will fawn on you:
Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.

What worser place can I beg in your love,
(And yet a place of high respect with me,)
Than to be used as you use your dog?

DEM. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;

For I am sick, when I do look on thee.

HEL. And I am sick, when I look not on you. DEM. You do impeach your modesty too much, To leave the city, and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night, And the ill counsel of a desert place, With the rich worth of your virginity.

HEL. Your virtue is my privilege for that. It is not night, when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night: Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company; For you, in my respect, are all the world :' Then how can it be said, I am alone,

When all the world is here to look on me?
DEM. I'll run from thee, and hide me in the
brakes,

And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
HEL. The wildest hath not such a heart as

you.
Run when you will, the story shall be chang'd;
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
Makes speed to catch the tiger: Bootless speed!

When cowardice pursues, and valour flies.
DEM. I will not stay thy questions; let me

go:

Or, if thou follow me, do not believe

But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.

HEL. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,

You do me mischief.

Fye, Demetrius ! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do: We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, A. 2, s. 1.

LOVE'S MYSTIFICATION AND
CONFUSION.

O SPITE!

O hell! I see you all are bent
To set against me, for your merriment.
If you were civil, and knew courtesy,
You would not do me thus much injury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
But you must join, in souls, to mock me too?
If you were men, as men you are in show,
You would not use a gentle lady so:

To vow,
and swear, and superpraise my parts,
When, I am sure, you hate me with
your hearts.
You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
And now both rivals, to mock Helena :
A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes,
With your derision! none, of noble sort,
Would so offend a virgin, and extort

A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, A. 3, s. 2.

LOVE'S OFFERING.

:

You see me, lord Bassanio, where I stand,
Such as I am though, for myself alone,
I would not be ambitious in my wish,
To wish myself much better; yet, for you,
I would be trebled twenty times myself;

A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
More rich;

That only to stand high on your account,

I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full sum of me
Is sum of something; which, to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd;
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; and happier than this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn ;
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Myself, and what is mine, to you, and yours,
Is now converted: but now I was the lord
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
This house, these servants, and this same myself,
Are yours, my lord; I give them with this ring;
Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the ruin of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

MERCHANT OF VENICE, A. 3, s. 2.

LOVE'S PARTING.

No, madam; for so long

As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep

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