968

Mons.

D'A.

over the well-steered galleys did I rule:-
from huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars
rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;
and the broad gulfs I traversed oft and oft.
Of every cloud which in the heavens might stir
I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's pride
availed not to my vessel's overthrow.

What noble pomp and frequent have not I
on regal decks beheld! yet in the end

I learned that one poor moment can suffice
to equalise the lofty and the low.

We sail the sea of life—a Calm One finds,
and One a Tempest-and, the voyage o'er,
death is the quiet haven of us all.

W. WORDSWORTH

MONSIEUR-D'AMBOIS

P, man, the sun shines on thee.
Let it shine.

I am no mote to play in 't, as great men are. Mons. Callest thou men great in state, motes in the sun?

They say so that would have thee freeze in shades.

*

*

Do thou but bring

light to the banquet Fortune sets before thee,

and thou wilt loathe lean darkness like thy death.
Who would believe thy metal could let sloth
rust and consume it? If Themistocles
had liv'd obscur'd thus in th' Athenian state,
Xerxes had made both him and it his slaves.
If brave Camillus had lurk'd so in Rome,
he had not five times been dictator there,
nor four times triumph'd. If Epaminondas
(who liv'd twice twenty years obscur'd in Thebes)
had liv'd so still, he had been still unnam'd,
and paid his country nor himself their right;
but putting forth his strength, he rescu'd both
from imminent ruin; and, like burnish'd steel,
after long use, he shin'd; for as the light
not only serves to show, but render us
mutually profitable; so our lives

in acts exemplary not only win

ourselves good names, but do to others give
matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live.

D'A. What would you wish me?
Mons. Leave the troubled streams,

and live where thrivers do, at the well-head.

G. CHAPMAN

969

QUEEN MARGARET TO QUEEN ELIZABETH

I

CALL'D thee then, vain flourish of my fortune; I called thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; the presentation of but what I was,

the flattering index of a direful pageant,

one heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:
a mother only mock'd with two fair babes;
a dream of what thou wast; a garish flag,
to be the aim of every dangerous shot;
a sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
a queen in jest, only to fill the scene.

Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy?
who sues, and kneels, and says, God save the queen?
where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
decline all this, and see what now thou art;
for happy wife, a most distressed widow;
for joyful mother, one that wails the name;
for one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
for queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
for one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
for one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
for one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
and left thee but a very prey to time;

having no more but thought of what thou wast,
to torture thee the more, being what thou art.

W. SHAKESPEARE

970 KING PHILIP-CONSTANCE-PANDULPH-LEWIS

K. Ph.
Const.

B1

IND up your hairs.

Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud,
O that these hands could so redeem my son

as they have given these hairs their liberty!'
but now I envy at their liberty,

and will again commit them to their bonds,
because my poor child is a prisoner.-

And, father cardinal, I have heard you say

that we shall see and know our friends in heaven:

if that be true, I shall see my boy again;

for since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
to him that did but yesterday suspire,

there was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud,
and chase the native beauty from his cheek,
and he will look as hollow as a ghost;
as dim and meagre as an ague's fit;
and so he'll die; and, rising so again,

when I shall meet him in the court of heaven I shall not know him: therefore never, never must I behold my pretty Arthur more. Pand. You hold too heinous a respect to grief. Const. He talks to me, that never had a son. K. Ph. You are as fond of grief as of your child. 971 Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts, stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.I will not keep this form upon my head,

[tearing off her head-dress when there is such disorder in my wit. O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! my life, my joy, my food, my all the world, my widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure. K. Ph. I fear some outrage: and I'll follow her. Lew.

There's nothing in the world can make me joy: life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

and bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, that it yields nought but shame and bitterness.

Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,

even in the instant of repair and health,

the fit is strongest; evils, that take leave,

on their departure most of all show evil: what have you lost by losing of this day? Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Pand. If you have won it, certainly, you had. No, no: when fortune means to men most good, she looks upon them with a threatening eye.

W. SHAKESPEARE

972

THE STORY OF THE WIND

Wul.

I

WULFSTAN THE WISE-OSCAR

BID her be resolved,

her choice now planted, forth of it to bring the fruits of constancy: for constancy

on all things works for good: the barren breeds, the fluent stops, the fugitive is fixed by constancy. I told you, did I not, the story of the wind, how he himself, the desultory wind, was wrought upon? Osc. Yes, Sir: you told it twice.

Wul.

The tale was this:
the wind, when first he rose and went abroad
through the waste region, felt himself at fault,
wanting a voice: and suddenly to earth
descended with a wafture and a swoop,
where, wandering volatile from kind to kind,
he wooed the several trees to give him one.
First he besought the ash: the voice she lent
fitfully with a free and lasting change,
flung here and there its sad uncertainties:
the aspen next: a fluttered frivolous twitter
was her sole tribute: from the willow came,
so long as dainty summer dressed her out,
a whispering sweetness, but her winter note
was hissing, dry, and reedy: lastly the pine
did he solicit, and from her he drew
a voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep,
that there he rested, welcoming in her
a mild memorial of the ocean-cave
where he was born.

H. TAYLOR

973 CASSILAne before THE SENATE of crete

HE signal given

THE

of battle, when our enemies came on,
(directed more by fury than by warrant
of policy and stratagem) I met them:
I in the fore-front of the armies met them;
and, as if this old weather-beaten body
had been compos'd of cannon-proof, I stood
the volleys of their shot: I, I myself

was he that first disrank'd their woods of pikes:
but when we came to handy-strokes, as often
as I lent blows, so often I gave wounds,
and every wound a death: this very sword
of mine slew more than any twain besides;
and, which is not the least of all my glory,
when he this young man, hand to hand in fight,
was by the general of the Venetians,

and such as were his retinue, unhorsed,

I stept between, and rescued him myself,
or horses' hoofs had trampled him to dirt;
and, whilst he was remounting, I maintained
the combat with the gallant general,

till, having taken breath, he thronged before me,
renewed the fight, and with a fatal blow
stole both that honour from me, and his life
from him, whom I before, myself alone,

had more than full three-quarters killed,-a man
well worthy only by this hand to have died,
not by a boy's weak push.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

974

THRI

SAMSON

'HRICE she assayed, with flattering prayers and sighs,

and amorous reproaches, to win from me

my capital secret, in what part my strength

lay stored, in what part summed, that she might know:
thrice I deluded her, and turned to sport

her importunity, each time perceiving
how openly and with what impudence

she purpos'd to betray me, and—which was worse