388. B. You are my true and honourable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart.

P. If this were true, then should I know this

secret.

I grant I am a woman; but, withal,

A woman that lord Brutus took to wife :
I grant I am a woman; but, withal,
A woman well-reputed-Cato's daughter.
Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
Being so father'd and so husbanded?

Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them:
I have made strong proof of my constancy,
Giving myself a voluntary wound

Here in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience,
And not my husband's secrets? B. O ye gods,
Render me worthy of this noble wife!

389. Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying,
That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains :
This day the Philistines a popular feast
Here celebrate in Gaza, and proclaim

Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud,
To Dagon, as their god, who hath deliver'd
Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands;
Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain.
So Dagon shall be magnified, and God,
Besides whom is no god, compar'd with idols,
Disglorified, blasphem'd, and had in scorn
By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine;
Which to have come to pass by means of thee,
Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest,
Of all reproach the most with shame that ever
Could have befallen thee and thy father's house.
390. Last, with her flower of Volscian cavalry,
Clad all in brazen arms, Camilla comes;

A warrior virgin, neeld or busy loom
Ne'er taught to ply, but hardships to endure
Of battle, and with speed the winds outrun.
She without pressure over blades of corn
Could fly, and leave unbent the tender ears;
Or on the swollen billow she could hang,
And with unmoisten'd footsteps skim the main.
Whom youths and matrons, pouring to behold
From house and field, with wonder and delight
Gaze after her; so beautiful she moves;
Her snowy neck with majesty a robe
Of purple clothes; her hair a clasp confines
In golden braid; a Lycian quiver hangs
Graceful behind; and in her hand she wields,
Tipt with bright steel, a pastoral myrtle spear.
391. S. Come worthy Greeke, Ulysses, come,
Possesse these shores with me,

The windes and seas are troublesome,
And here we may be free.

Here may we sit and view their toyle,
That travaile in the deepe,

Enjoy the day in mirth the while,
And spend the night in sleepe.
U. Fair nymph, if fame or honor were
To be attain❜d with ease,

Then would I come and rest with thee,
And leave such toiles as these:
But here it dwells, and here must I
With danger seek it forth;

To spend the time luxuriously,
Becomes not men of worth.

392. S. Ulysses, O be not deceiv'd
With that unreall name;

This honor is a thing conceiv d,
And rests on others' fame:

F

Begotten only to molest

Our peace, and to beguile

(The best thing of our life) our rest,
And give us up to toyle!

U. Delicious nymph, suppose there were
No honor or report,

Yet manlinesse would scorne to wear

The time in idle sport:

For toyle doth give a better touch
To make us feele our joy;

And ease finds tediousness as much

As labour yeelds annoy.

393. Speak; say the word-and nature like a slave
Shall trembling lie before the child of Cadmus.
Command-and streams shall make a sudden halt:
And Helicon, and Caucasus, and Cynthus,
And Athos, Mycale, Rhodope, and Pindus,
Unfetter'd by my glance, shall kiss the vale,

And dance like snowflakes in the darken'd air.
Command and north and east-winds sweeping
down

Assault great Neptune's trident, shake his throne.
The sea shall rise, and scornful overleap

Its banks and shores; lightnings across the night
Shall gleam; and heaven shall crash from pole to
pole;

Thunders shall roar from thousand gaping jaws;
Ocean its billows toss rebellious

Against Olympus' height; the hurricane

Shall sing to thee a song of victory!

394. Then to that fatal place I brought alone that miserable pair;

His sightless hands, and hers I taught to touch their boy that slumber'd there;

Nor sooner did they feel him lie, on the moist herbage coldly thrown,

Both with a shrill and feeble cry upon the body cast them down.

The mother, as she lay and groan'd, address'd her boy with quivering tongue,

And like a heifer sadly moan'd, just plunder'd of her new-dropp'd young :

"Was not thy mother once, my son, than life itself more dear to thee?

Why the long way hast thou begun, without one gentle word to me?

One last embrace, and then, belov'd, upon thy lonely journey go!

Alas! with anger art thou mov'd that not a word thou wilt bestow?"

395. Aye, but there is a date set to all sorrows;
Nothing is everlasting in this world.

Your counsel will prevail: persuade him, good sir,
To fall into life's happiness again,

And leave the desolate path: I want his company.
He walks at midnight in thick shady woods,

Where scarce the moon is starlight: I have watch'd
him

In silent nights, when all the earth was drest
Up like a virgin, in white innocent beams:
Stood in my window, cold and thinly clad,
To observe him through the bounty of the moon,
That liberally bestow'd her graces on me;

And when the morning dew began to fall,

Then was my time to weep. He has lost his kind

ness:

He's not so good as a lord ought to be:

Pray tell him so from me, sir.

396. D. I hear the services you do the state;

I've been eye-witness, when you were with me :
When age had freez'd the blood in my cold veins,
Your mighty valour well supplied my place:

In short, to spare a useless flow of words,
You are to-day what I myself have been;
Yet in our competition you perceive

The king made some distinction 'twixt us twain.
C. The prize is yours but I it was deserv'd it.
D. He who obtain'd did surely best deserve.

C. He is most deserving who can best discharge.
D. You were refus'd, and that is no good sign.
C. You're an old courtier, and so gain'd your cause.
D. The lustre of my deeds has gain'd my cause.
C. Reason aright; the king respects your age.
D. The king considers merit more than age.
C. The honour then by right was due to me.
397. He who hath never warr'd with misery,

Nor ever tugg'd with fortune and distress,
Hath had n' occasion, nor no field to try
The strength and forces of his worthiness.
Those parts of judgment which felicity
Keeps as conceal'd, affliction must express;
And only men show their abilities,
And what they are, in their extremities.
The world had never taken so full note

Of what thou art, hadst thou not been undone ;

And only thy affliction hath begot

More fame than thy best fortunes could have done.
For ever by adversity are wrought

The greatest works of admiration ;
And all the fairest samples of renown

Out of distress and misery are grown.

398. P. Enone, while we bin dispos'd to walk, Say, what shall be the subject of our talk?