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Quin. I tell you, Nick Bottom, hold your Authority. tongue, with your roaring, and set your heart You shall play nothing but Pyra

at rest.

mus.

Bot. Well, if I must, I must.

What cannot Submiffion.

be endur'd, you know, must be cur'd. But what Inquiring. beard were I best to play it in?

Quin. You must not have on a grey beard, Directing. you know; because it will not look natural for

a man with a grey beard to be acting the part of a lovyer.

cation.

Bot. Why look you, Master Peter Quince, I Self vindidon't think it so very unnatural to see people, with grey beards, acting the part of lovyers; at least, I am sure, it had not need be unnatural ; for it is common enough. But, howsomdever it will look a little unnatural, as you say, to see the young woman, Mrs. Tibby, fondling and looking sweet upon a man with a grey beard. Wherefore, upon minture liberation, I will play it in a beard black as jet.

Quin. Here, then, Masters, take your parts, Exhorting and con them over with as much retention as you can; that you may be ready to rehearse by tomorrow night.

Bot. But where must we rehearse, Peter Inquiring. Quince ?

Quin. Why, your know, if we should go to Apprehen. rehearse in a garret, or a malt-loft, we should but draw a mob, and perhaps get ourselves taken up for cromancers. Therefore we must go to the palace wood, and do it by moonlight. Then you Contriving. know, we shall do it with dacity and imposer of mind, when there is no body to deplaud, or

hiss.

Bot. Right, Peter Quince. We will be ready for you. [Exeunt.]

Narration.

Reproof.

XLV.

CHIDING.

The Speech of HECTOR to PARIS, on his avoiding,
on the field of battle, MENELAUS, the husband of
HELEN, whom he had decoyed from Sparta to
Troy, which occasioned the Trojan war.

(POPE'S Homer, II. III. v. 53.)

As godlike Hector sees the prince retreat,

66

S

He thus upbraids him with a gen'rous heat;
Unhappy Paris! But to women-brave !
So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!

Vexation. Oh, hadst thou dy'd, when first thou saw'st the light,

Vexation.

Or dy'd at least before the nuptial rite!
Contempt. A better fate than vainly thus to boast
And fly, the scandal of the Trojan host.
Gods! how the scornful Greeks exult to see
Their fears of danger undeceiv'd in thee!
Thy figure promis'd with a martial air;
Contempt. But ill thy soul supplies a form so fair.
In former days, in all thy gallant pride,

When thy tall ships triumphant stem'd the tide ; When Greece beheld thy painted canvas flow, And crowds stood wond'ring at the passing show; Inquiry with Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien, contempt. You met the approaches of the Spartan queen ? Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize, And both her warlike lords (1) outshone in Helen's eyes?

This deed, thy foes' delight, thy own disgrace,
Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race,
This deed recals thee to the proffer'd fight;

Challenge. Or hast thou injur'd whom thou dar'st not

right?

Soon to thy cost his sword would make thee know,
Thou keep'st the consort of a braver foe.

(1) Thefeus, her first, and Menelaus, her fecond husband:

Thy graceful form instilling soft desire,
Thy curling tresses, and thy silver lyre,
Beauty and youth-in vain to these you trust,
When youth and beauty shall be laid in dust.
Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow,
Crush the dire author of his country's woe.'

XLVI.

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REMORSE. CONFESSION. VIRTU-
OUS RESOLUTION. AFFECTION.
JOY. RAPTURE.

Scene between Sir Charles Easy and his Lady, (to
whom he had been false) after his coming to
understand, that his falsehood was known to
her, though borne without the least complaint,
or outward appearance of dissatisfaction, on
her part.

Warning.

Threaten.

Sir Ch. SIT still, my dear-I want to talk Serious conwith you-and, which you well may wonder at, verfation. what I have to say is of importance too. But it

me,

Sir Affection

is in order to our friendship's being upon a better
footing hereafter, than it has been hitherto.
Lady Easy. Your behaviour to
Charles, has always been friendly and loving;
nor can I charge you with a look, that ever had
the appearance of unkindness.

with Sub

miffion.

Sir Ch. The perpetual spring of your good Complim. humour Madam, lets me draw no merit from what I have appeared to be. For you seem to be of a temper to love, or at least to behave kindly to your husband, let his character be what it will. Yet I cannot, even now, reconcile with your good sense, your venturing upon marriage with a man of my indolent character.

Lady Easy. I never thought it such a haz- Submiffive ard. And your having never shewn, even in Affection. the time of courtship, the least affectation to be

Wonder.

Shame.

Self-denial.

Praife.

Shame.

Apprehen.

Trepidation

Starting.

any thing, but what you was by nature; and your shewing, through that carelessness of temper, an undesigning honesty of mind, which I suspected a want of in smoother behaviour, won me by taking no pains to win me, and pleased and courted me by taking no pains to please or court me. I concluded, that, such a temper could never be deliberately unkind. Or, at the worst, I hoped, that any errors which might arise from want of thinking, might be borne; and that one moment's thought would end them. Thus, Sir Charles, you see my worst of fears. And these, weighed against the hopes I had of winning your heart, (as you know our sex are not too diffident of the power of our own charms) were as nothing.

Sir Ch. My dear, your understanding, when I consider my own conduct, startles me, and makes my own look despicable. I blush to think I have worn so valuable a jewel in my bosom, and, till this hour, have scarce had the curiosity, or rather the common sense, to think of looking upon its lustre.

Lady Easy. You set too high a value, Sir Charles, on the common qualities of harmlessness, and good nature in a wife.

Sir Ch. Virtues, like benefits, are doubled by being modestly concealed. And I confess, I sus pect you, Madam, of virtues, which, as much as they exalt your character, disgrace mine.

Lady Easy. I don't understand you, Sir Charles.

Sir Ch. I must speak plainer then-Be free, and tell me, where did you leave this handkerchief? (1)

Lady Easy. Ha!

Tenderness. Sir Ch. What do you start at-You have nothing to be troubled about.Would to Heaven I had as little. [Aside.]

Shame.

Anxiety.

Lady Easy. I cannot speak and I could wish you would not oblige me-It is the only

(1) It was by the handkerchief, that he knew his bafenefs was covered by his lady.

thing I ever refused you-And, though I cannot give you a reason, why I would not speak,

yet I hope you will excuse me, without a reason. Intreating, Sir Ch. What then? Does this delicate crea- Stinging reture scruple to accuse me of what I have so little morfe. scrupled to be guilty of! Monster! To injure

Remorse.

such goodness! [Aside] Well, then, Madam, Tenderness your will shall be a reason. I will urge the point with admino farther. And, indeed, it would ill become ration. me. Since you are so generously tender of reproaching me, I will declare to you, that what your delicacy avoids charging me with, that my own reflection bears home upon me with tenfold force. Your heroic behaviour has waked me to a sense of your disquiet past-disquiet so unworthily caused by me-and-and-[hesitating through fulness of heart] so nobly borne by-her-who least deserved to be forced to bear it. -But, Madam-[sighing] if I have used you ill-I hope Virtuous I have sentiment enough still left to secure you refolution. Intreating. from all fear of my offending hereafter. As an earnest of which, let me beg of you to discharge Intreating. your woman.

Lady Easy. My dearest! I think not of her. Senfibility. Your tenderness overcomes me. [Weeping.]

2

Remorfe.

Sir Ch. Nay, surely, you have no room to Joy, & felfpraise my tenderness. Such tenderness, as I abafement. have shewn to worth like yours, might-but I see you are in pain to give me this confusion. I Tenderness will not therefore, increase your uneasiness by reflections on what I have been; but rather, reserving them for my private recollections, try to soothe your anguish by the prospect of happiness to come happiness from my recovery to a sense of your inimitable excellence, which hereafter, I intend shall be the business and the joy of my life to study, and admire. Expect then, thou Proteftation best of womankind, from my future affection, all of affection. that can be conceived of tender and of kind. Nothing, you can expect, shall come up to what you shall experience; for no tenderness can equal

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