Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

Their brains lie with their tailors, and get babies
For their most complete issue. He's sole heir
To all the moral virtues, that first greets
The light with a new fashion ; which becomes them,
Like apes disfigured with the attires of men.

K. FIenry. No question they much wrong their real wortla
In affectation of outlandish scum;
But they have faults, and we more ; they foolish proud,
To jet in others' plumes so balightily ;
We proud, that they are proud of foolery,
Holding our worth more complete for their vaunts.

Chapman's Bussy D' Ambois.

A SOLDIER'S PALL

· As in Arden I have seen an oak
Long shook with tempests, and his lofty top
Beni to his root, which being at length made loose,
Ev'n groaning with his weight, he'gan to nod
This way and that, as loath his curled brows,
Which lie had oft wrapped in the sky with storms,
Should stoop, and yet his radical fibres burst,
Storm-like lie fell, and bid the fear-cold earth :-
So fell scout Barrisor, that had stood the shocks.
Of ten set battles in your Highness' war
'Gainst the sole soldier of the world, Navarre.- Id.

A SPARKLING PORTRAIT.

Gilbert. What said you, Grime?

Grime. I say, Sir Gilbert, looking on my dauýhter, 1
I curse the hour obat ere I got the girt:
For, sir, she may have many wealılıy suitors,
And yet she disdains them all, to have ?
Poor George a Greene unto her husband.

Bonfield. On thatgood Grime, I'm talking to your daughter;
But she, in quirks and quiddities of love

* Site
Sets me lo school, she is so overwise.
But, gentle girl, if thou’lt forsake this Pinner:
And be my love, I will advance thee high.
To dignify those hairs of amber hue,
I'll grace them with a chaplet made of pearl,
Set with choice rubies, sparks, and diamoude, planted?
Upon a velvet hood, to hide that head,
Wherein two sapphires burn like sparkling fire.
This will I do, fair Beitris, and far more,
If obou, wilt love the lord of Doncaster.
Beltris. Heigh lio! my heart is in a higher place.

George a Greene, or the Pinner of Wakefield. Anonymous.

A FOOL IN PROSPECT.

Isabella, Good father! ;;
Fabrilio.

Tell not me of tongues and rumours.
You'll say the gentleman is somewhat simple;
The better for a husband, were you wise:
For those that marry foois, live ladies' lives.
On with the mask! Til hear no more: he's rich:
The fool's bid under bushels.
Livia.

Not so hid neither,
But here's a foul great piece of him methinks;
What will he be, when he comes aliogether?

Middleton's Women Bcware Women.

you

do ;

LOVE SHOULD NOT BE LACHRYMOS E
Faith, daughter, you're to blame. You take the course
To make him an ill husband ; troth
And that disease is catching, I can tell you,
Ay, and soon taken by a young man's blood,
And that with little urging. Nay fie, see now;
What cause have you to weep? would I'd no more,
That have lived threescore years ! there were a cause,
And 'twere well thought on. Trust me you're to blame :
His absence cannot last five days at utmost.
Why should those tears be fetch'd forth! cannot love
Be e'en as well expressed in a good look,
But it must see her face still in a fountain ?
It shews like a country maid dressing her head
By a dish of water.-Id.

VANITY.

Mother. How like you it, daughter ?
Bianca.

'Tis a noble state!
Methinks

my soul could dwell upon the reverence
Of such a solemn and most worthy custom.
Did not the Duke look up? methought he saw 08.

Mother. That's every one's conceit that sees a Duke.
If he look stedfastly, he looks straight at them;
When he, perhaps, good careful gentleman,
Never minds any; but the look he casts
Is at his own intentions, and his object
Only the public good.---Id.

MAKING UP.

Isabella. Prithee forgive me;
I did but chide in jest: the best loves use it
Sometimes: it,sets an edge upon affection.
When we invite our best friends to a feast,
'Tis not all sweetness that we set before them;
There's somewhat sharp and salt, both to whet appetite,
And make 'em taste their wine well : so, methinks,
After a friendly, sharp, and savory chiding,
A kiss tastes wondrouis well, and fuit o' the grapes
How thinkst thou ? does it not? (Kisses him.)- Id.

A SWEET VOICE ILL APPRECIATED.
Methinks now such a voice to such a husband,
Is like a jewel of unvalued worth
Hung at a fool's ear. -Id.

AN UNLAWFUL LOVER OBLIGED TO COMMEND AI6 MISTRES TO A BRIDEGROOM.

I have a strange office on't here ;
Tis some man's luck to keep the joys he likes
Concealed for his own bosom; but my fortune
To set 'em out for another's liking;
Like the mad misery of necessitous man,
That parts from his good horse with many praises,
And goes on foot himself.-Id.

[ocr errors]

A HUSBAND SCORNED BY A WIFE WHO HAS LEFT HIM TO LIVE WITH A PRINCE.

With what a cruel pride
Tlie glory of her sin strikes bye my afiictions !--Id.

HIS FEELINGS AT HER DESERTION OP RIM.
Hast thou left me then, Bianca, utterly ?
Oh, Bianca! now I miss thee : Oh! return,

[ocr errors]

And save the faith of woman. I ne'er felt
The loss of thee till now. T'is an uffliction
Of greater weight than youth was made to bear;
As if a punishment of after-life
Were full’n upon man here: 80 new it is
To flesh and blood; so strange, so insupportable:
A torment e'en mistook, as if a body
Whore death were drowning, must needs therefore suffer it
In scalding oil.
Livia.

Sweet sir!
Leantio (without noticing her). As long as mine eye saw tliee,
I half enjoyed thee.
Lio.

Sir!
Lean. (wilhout noticing her.) Canst thou forget
The dear pains my love took? How it has watched
Whole nights together in all weathers for thee,
Yet stood in heart more merry than the tempest
That sung about mine ears, like dangerous flatterers,
That can set all their mischief to sweet tunes;
And then received thee from thy father's window
Into these arms at midnight; when we embraced
As if we had been statues only made for it
To shew art's life, so silent were our comforts,
Aud kissed as if our lips had grown together.-Id.

ORTHODOXY.
Cromwell. My lord, yet grant one suit unto us all;
That this same ancient serving man may wait
Upon my lord his master, in the Tower.

Rochester. This old iniquity, this heretic,
That in contempt of our church discipline
Compelled my sumner to devour bis process !
Old ruffian past-grace, upstart schismatic,
Had not the King prayed us to pardon you,

You had fryed for't, you grizzled heretic.
Harpool. 'Sblood, my lord bishop, you wrong. me..

I am neither heretic por puritan, but of the old church. I'll swear, drivk ale, kiss a wench, go to mass, eat fish all Lent, and fast Fridays with cakes and wine, fruit and spicery; shrive me of my sins afore Easter, and begin new before Whitsuntide.

Crom. A merry mad-conceited knave, my lord.
Har. That knave was simply put upon the bishop.
*Roch. Well, God forgive him, and I pardon him:
Let him attend his master in the Tower,
For I in charity wislı his soul no hurt.

Sir John Oldcastle.--- Anonymous.

THE INDICATOR'S FAREWELL.

It was the Editor's intention to reserve the above

passages

and other extracts for the purpose mentioned a few weeks ago, that of filling up his paper when matter was wanting ; but a premature return to his work in general, has brought on such a return of his illness, as compels him, with great reluctance, to give up the paper itself; and here, accordingly, the Indicator takes leave of bis readers. He is still recovering; but so slowly, and with so much necessity to be careful, that it would be weakness in him to keep horering in this manner over a

task which he cannot properly pursue. He must complete the repose which was already doing him so much good: but he takes it only in the hope of being able to renew his labours, if not in this shape, in others.—Pleasures he should rather call them, for they are so even when pains and harms. The truth is, his pains have been so literally his pleasures, that although he has not written half what he reasonably might, nor attended a twentieth part as he ought to dispatch and punctuality, yet he has not put enough of his own rural doctrines in practice. He has suffered his imagination to take too many walks for him instead of his legs; has made book-journies about Vaucluse and Hymettus, to the neglect of his much-injured suburbs; and instead of a dozen retreats or so at intervals, which might have saved him the necessity of making these effeminate excuses, has now to keep a holiday of unwilling length and very equivocal pleasure.l'pon casting his eye back upon the numbers of the Indicalor, he has little to say but to thank his readers, his correspondents, his defenders, his users, who were always welcome when they were not afraid of being so, and his abusers, who in some instances have also thought fit to be his imitators. What he has written at any time, was at least written sincerely. He has generally had to perform his task without books, often with little comfort but the performance, always in the midst of a struggle of some sort ; but if the mention of this is a vanity as well as an excuse, it may serve also to shew how much the cultivation of a natural chearfulness can do for the entertainment of itself and others, and what riches there must be in that ordinary world about us, whose veriest twigs and common-places want but the look of one's own eye to act upon them as a sunshine. If the Indicator has found some honey in places more barren than was expected, it is surely neither his fault nor theirs ; nor will he make an apology for what is perhaps, at last, his only merit. To use a phrase of Cowley's, it would be very unbirdly" of him.

And now, returning to his own shape again, though retaining his birdly propensities, he shakes hands at parting with all his readers male, and gives a kiss on the cheek,- nonsense !mon the mouth, to all his fair readers, who have ever had faith in the good intentions of

LEIGH HUNT.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

The Editor need not excuse himself on this occasion to the various Correspons denis whose commuvications he intended to notice; but he is very sorry to part with some of them.-Will A. A. be good enough to mention some place to which a few books can be sent her by and by?

Printed and published by JOSEPH APPLEYARD, No. 19, Catherine-street, Strand.

Price 21.--And sold also by A. GLIDDON, Importer of Snuffs, No. 31, Tavistockstreet, Covent-garden. Orders received at the above places, and by all Booksellers.and Newsmen,

« ElőzőTovább »