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You brother mine, that entertain❜d ambition,
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back, I do fly,
After summer, merrily:
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
If music be the food of love, play on,
* Pity, or tenderness of heart.
NATURAL AFFECTION ALLIED TO LOVE.
O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd, — (Her sweet perfections) with one self king!
ESCAPE FROM DANGER.
I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
A BEAUTIFUL BOY.
Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years
Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe
Oli. Why, what would you?
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
* Cantos, verses.
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,
Come hither, boy: If ever thou shalt love,
THE WOMAN SHOULD BE YOUNGEST IN LOVE.
Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
sways she level in her husband's heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are.
CHARACTER OF AN OLD SONG.
Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain :
* Dextrous, ready fiend.
+ Fair deceiver.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids, that weave their thread with
Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old aget.
Come away, come away, death,
My part of death no one so true
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
Sad true lover ne'er find my grave,
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Smiling at grief.
* Lace-makers. Simple truth. Times of simplicity.
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;
And, like the haggard*, check at every feather
Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugret 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.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
LOVE COMMENDED AND CENSURED.
YET writers say, As in the sweetest bud,
And writers say, As the most forward bud
*A hawk not well trained.
+ In spite of.