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قراءة كتاب Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 5
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 5
too. The King with his Contrivers,
This is no place for us. [Exeunt Lords.
Fred. This is a jewel,
Lay it aside, what paper's that?
Lay it aside, what paper's that?
Pod. A Letter,
But 'tis a womans, Sir, I know by the hand,
And the false Orthography, they write old Saxon.
But 'tis a womans, Sir, I know by the hand,
And the false Orthography, they write old Saxon.
Fred. May be her ghostly Mother's that instructs her.
Sor. No, 'tis a Cousins, and came up with a great Cake.
Fred. What's that?
Sor. A pair of Gloves the Dutchess gave her,
For so the outside says.
For so the outside says.
Fred. That other paper?
Sor. A Charm for the tooth-ach, here's nothing but Saints and Crosses.
Fre. Look in that Box, methinks that should hold secrets.
Pod. 'Tis Paint, and curls of Hair, she begins to exercise.
A glass of Water too, I would fain taste it,
But I am wickedly afraid 'twill silence me,
Never a Conduit-Pipe to convey this water.
A glass of Water too, I would fain taste it,
But I am wickedly afraid 'twill silence me,
Never a Conduit-Pipe to convey this water.
Sor. These are all Rings, Deaths-heads, and such Memento's
Her Grandmother, and worm-eaten Aunts left to her,
To tell her what her Beauty must arrive at.
Her Grandmother, and worm-eaten Aunts left to her,
To tell her what her Beauty must arrive at.
Fred. That, that.
Pod. They are written songs, Sir, to provoke young Ladies;
Lord, here's a Prayer-Book, how these agree!
Here's a strange union.
Lord, here's a Prayer-Book, how these agree!
Here's a strange union.
Sor. Ever by a surfeit you have a julep set to cool the Patient.
Fred. Those, those.
Sor. They are Verses to the blest Evanthe.
Fred. Those may discover,
Read them out, Sorano.
Read them out, Sorano.
To the blest Evanthe.
Let those complain that feel Loves cruelty.
And in sad legends write their woes,
With Roses gently has corected me,
My War is without rage or blows:
My Mistriss eyes shine fair on my desires,
And hope springs up enflam'd with her new fires.
And in sad legends write their woes,
With Roses gently has corected me,
My War is without rage or blows:
My Mistriss eyes shine fair on my desires,
And hope springs up enflam'd with her new fires.
No more an Exile will I dwell,
With folded arms, and sighs all day,
Reckoning the torments of my Hell,
And flinging my sweet joys away:
I am call'd home again to quiet peace,
My Mistriss smiles, and all my sorrows cease.
With folded arms, and sighs all day,
Reckoning the torments of my Hell,
And flinging my sweet joys away:
I am call'd home again to quiet peace,
My Mistriss smiles, and all my sorrows cease.
Yet what is living in her Eye?
Or being blest with her sweet tongue,
If these no other joys imply?
A golden Give, a pleasing wrong:
To be your own but one poor Month, I'd give
My Youth, my Fortune, and then leave to live.
Or being blest with her sweet tongue,
If these no other joys imply?
A golden Give, a pleasing wrong:
To be your own but one poor Month, I'd give
My Youth, my Fortune, and then leave to live.
Fred. This is my Rival, that I knew the hand now.
Sor. I know it, I have seen it, 'tis Valerio's,
That hopeful Gentlemans, that was brought up with ye,
And by your charge, nourish'd and fed
At the same Table, with the same allowance.
That hopeful Gentlemans, that was brought up with ye,
And by your charge, nourish'd and fed
At the same Table, with the same allowance.
Enter Evanthe, and Cassandra.
Evan. Thou old weak fool, dost thou know to what end,
To what betraying end he got this Casket?
Durst thou deliver him without my Ring,
Or a Command from mine own mouth, that Cabinet
That holds my heart? you unconsiderate Ass,
You brainless Ideot.
To what betraying end he got this Casket?
Durst thou deliver him without my Ring,
Or a Command from mine own mouth, that Cabinet
That holds my heart? you unconsiderate Ass,
You brainless Ideot.
Cas. I saw you go with him,
At the first word commit your Person to him,
And make no scruple, he is your Brothers Gentleman,
And for any thing I know, an honest man;
And might not I upon the same security deliver him a Box?
At the first word commit your Person to him,
And make no scruple, he is your Brothers Gentleman,
And for any thing I know, an honest man;
And might not I upon the same security deliver him a Box?
Evan. A Bottle-head.
Fred. You shall have cause to chafe, as I will handle it.
Evan. I had rather thou hadst delivered me to Pirats,
Betray'd me to uncurable diseases,
Hung up my Picture in a Market-place,
And sold me to wild Bawds.
Betray'd me to uncurable diseases,
Hung up my Picture in a Market-place,
And sold me to wild Bawds.
Cas. As I take it, Madam,
Your maiden-head lies not in that Cabinet,
You have a Closer, and you keep the Key too,
Why are you vex'd thus?
Your maiden-head lies not in that Cabinet,
You have a Closer, and you keep the Key too,
Why are you vex'd thus?
Evan. I could curse thee wickedly,
And wish thee more deformed than Age can make thee,
Perpetual hunger, and no teeth to satisfie it,
Wait on thee still, nor sleep be found to ease it;
Those hands that gave the Casket, may the Palsie
For ever make unuseful, even to feed thee:
Long winters, that thy Bones may turn to Isicles,
No Hell can thaw again, inhabit by thee.
Is thy Care like thy Body, all one crookedness?
How scurvily thou cryest now! like a Drunkard,
I'll have as pure tears from a dirty spout;
Do, swear thou didst this ignorantly, swear it,
Swear and be damn'd, thou half Witch.
And wish thee more deformed than Age can make thee,
Perpetual hunger, and no teeth to satisfie it,
Wait on thee still, nor sleep be found to ease it;
Those hands that gave the Casket, may the Palsie
For ever make unuseful, even to feed thee:
Long winters, that thy Bones may turn to Isicles,
No Hell can thaw again, inhabit by thee.
Is thy Care like thy Body, all one crookedness?
How scurvily thou cryest now! like a Drunkard,
I'll have as pure tears from a dirty spout;
Do, swear thou didst this ignorantly, swear it,
Swear and be damn'd, thou half Witch.
Cas. These are fine words, well