Sir A. Squints!—A red-haired girl! Zounds, no! Capt. A. Then I must have forgot; it can't be the same person. Sir A. Jack, Jack! what think you of blooming, love-breathing seventeen? Capt. A. As to that, sir, I am quite indifferent; if I can please you in the matter, 'tis all I desire. Sir A. Nay, but Jack, such eyes! such eyes, so innocently wild, so bashfully irresolute, not a glance but speaks and kindles some thought of love! Then, Jack, her cheeks! her cheeks, Jack! so deeply blushing at the insinuations of her tell-tale eyes! Then, Jack, her lips! O, Jack, lips, smiling at their own discretion! and, if not smiling, more sweetly pouting-more lovely in sullenness! Then, Jack, her neck! O, Jack, Jack! Capt. A. And which is to be mine, sir, the niece or the aunt? Sir A. Why, you unfeeling, insensible puppy, I despise you. When I was of your age, such a description would have made me fly like a rocket. The aunt, indeed! Odds life! when I ran away with your mother, I would not have touched anything old or ugly, to gain an empire. Capt. A. Not to please your father, sir? Sir A. To please my father-Zounds! not to please-O, my father -Oddso!—Yes, yes; if my father, indeed, had desired-that's quite another matter-Though he wasn't the indulgent father that I am, Jack. Capt. A. I dare say not, sir. Sir A. But, Jack, you are not sorry to find your mistress is so beautiful! Capt. A. Sir, I repeat it, if I please you in this affair, 'tis all I desire. Not that I think a woman the worse for being handsome; but, sir, if you please to recollect, you before hinted something about a hump or two, one eye, and a few more graces of that kind-now, without being very nice, I own I should rather choose a wife of mine to have the usual number of limbs, and a limited quantity of back: and, though one eye may be very agreeable, yet, as the prejudice has always run in favor of two, I would not wish to affect a singularity in that article. Sir A. What a phlegmatic sot it is! Why, sirrah, you are an anchorite! A vile, insensible stock! You a soldier! you're a walking block, fit only to dust the company's regimentals on! Odds life, I've a great mind to marry the girl myself! Capt. A. I am entirely at your disposal, sir; if you should think of addressing Miss Languish yourself, I suppose you would have me marry the aunt; or, if you should change your mind, and take the old lady, 'tis the same to me, I'll marry the niece. Sir A. Upon my word, Jack, thou'rt either a very great hypocrite, or -but, come, I know your indifference on such a subject must be all a lie. I'm sure it must-come, now, hang your demure face, come, confess, Jack, you have been lying-ha'n't you? You have been playing the hypocrite, hey?—I'll never forgive you, if you ha'n't been lying and playing the hypocrite. Capt. A. I'm sorry, sir, that the respect and duty which I bear to you should be so mistaken. Sir A. Hang your respect and duty! But come along with me, I'll write a note to Mrs. Malaprop, and you shall visit the lady directly. Her eyes shall be the Promethean torch to you-come along, I'll never forgive you, if you don't come back, stark mad with rapture and impatience if you don't, 'egad I'll marry the girl myself. From "The Rivals." THE DEATH OF CARDINAL BEAUFORT. SHAKSPEARE. SCENE.-London.-Cardinal Beaufort's bed-chamber. The CARDINAL in bed; Attendants with him. K. Henry. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. Cardinal. If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, When death's approach is seen so terrible! Warwick. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. K. Hen. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin. From "King Henry VI” KING LEAR'S RETURNING SANITY. SHAKSPEARE. SCENE. A Tent in the French Camp.-LEAR on a bed, asleep; Phy sicians, Gentlemen, and others, attending. Enter CORDELIA and KENT. Cordelia. O thou good Kent, how shall I live, and work, To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me. Kent. To be acknowledged, madam, is o'er-paid. All my reports go with the modest truth; Nor more, nor clipped, but so. Cor. Be better suited: These weeds are memories of those worser hours; Kent. Pardon me, dear madam; Yet to be known, shortens my made intent: Till time and I think meet. Cor. Then be it so, my good lord.-How does the king? Physician. Madam, sleeps still. Cor. O you kind gods, Cure this great breach in his abusèd nature! The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up, Of this child-changed father! Phys. So please your majesty, [To the Physician. That we may wake the king? he hath slept long. Cor. Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed I' the sway of your own will. Is he arrayed? Phys. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt not of his temperance. Cor. Very well. Phys. Please you, draw near.-Louder the music there. Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters Kent. Kind and dear princess! Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes To be exposed against the warring winds? Of quick, cross-lightning? to watch (poor perdu!) Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead. Cor. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit, I know; When did you die? Cor. Still, still, far wide! Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been? Where am I?-Fair day-light?— I am mightily abused.—I should even die with pity, To see another thus.-I know not what to say. I will not swear, these are my hands:-let's see; I feel this pin prick. 'Would I were assured Cor. O, look upon me, sir, And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:- Lear. Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man; To be my child Cordelia. If Cor. And so I am, I am. Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not: you have poison for me, I will drink it. I know, you do not love me; for your sisters Cor. No cause, no cause. Lear. Am I in France? Kent. In your own kingdom, sir. Lear. Do not abuse me. Phys. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage, You see, is cured in him: and yet it is danger To make him even o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more, Cor. Will't please your highness walk? Pray now, forget and forgive: I am old, and foolish. [Exeunt LEAR, CORDELIA, Physician, and Attendants. Gentleman. Holds it true, sir, That the duke of Cornwall was so slain? Kent. Most certain, sir. Gent. Who is conductor of his people? Kent. As 'tis said, The bastard son of Gloster. Gent. They say, Edgar, His banished son, is with the earl of Kent In Germany. Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers o' the kingdom Approach apace. Gent. The arbitrament is like to be a bloody. Fare you well, sir. Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, Or well, or ill, as this day's battle's fought. [Exit. [Exit. From "King Lear." |