« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »
One, that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
Does bear all excellency.*
The noble sister of Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
I take thy hand; this hand,
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it;
"Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
If you will lead these graces to the grave,
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
Thou dost look
Like Patience, gazing on kings' graves, and smiling 33-v. 1. Extremity out of act.
*"Does bear all excellency." This is the reading of the quarto. In the folio it is " Do's tyre the ingenieur." Mr. Steevens remarks that "the reading of the quarto is so flat and unpoetical, when com. pared with that sense which seems meant to have been given in the folio, that I heartily wish some emendation could be hit on, which might entitle it to a place in the text." The following is suggested, Attires the engineer, that is, adorns the general. "The woman is the glory of the man."-1 Cor. xi. 7. "A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband."-Prov. xii. 4. Achilles is called "a rare engineer." †The sieve used to separate flour from bran is called a bolting cloth. Blended, mixed together.
§ By her beauty and patient meekness disarming Calamity, and preventing her from using her uplifted sword. Extremity, for the utmost of human suffering.
What's the matter,
That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
If two gods should play some heavenly match,
O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive :
That show, contain, and nourish, all the world.
Where is any author in the world, Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
For thou hast given me in this beauteous face,
O, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear?
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
*There is something exquisitely beautiful in this representation of that suffusion of colours which glimmers around the sight when the eyelashes are wet with tears.
When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew.
What, still in tears?
Evermore showering? In one little body
Thy tempest-tossed body.
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
Tears, 'tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in.
Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
And venomous to thine eyes.
His eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,*
And with affection wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
*So curious an observer of nature was our author, and so minutely had he traced the operation of the passions, that many passages of his works might furnish hints to painters. In the above passage, we have the outline of a beautiful picture.
Now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Could so become it.
The April's in her eyes: It is love's spring,
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.
By noting of the lady, I have mark'd
There might you have beheld one joy crown another: so, and in such manner, that, it seem'd, sorrow wept to take leave of them; for their joy waded in 13-v. 2.
*"A better day." This is adopted by the commentators, and is without sense. Like an April day, is suggested as the right reading, and proved to be so, by the next piece.
Say, that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;
For Orpheus' lute was strung with poet's sinew;
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
Drawn in the flattering table of her eye!
If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, <
Is the young Dauphin every way complete:
And she again wants nothing, to name want,
The Roman dame,
Within whose face beauty and virtue strived
Which of them both should underprop her fame, When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame;