A CLOWN'S DESCRIPTION OF A WRECK. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! but that's not to the point: O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em: now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast; and anon, swallowed with yest and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land service, To see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman: But to make an end of the ship:-to see how the sea flap-dragoned* it:- but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them ;-—and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather.

ACT IV.

A GARLAND FOR OLD MEN.
Reverend sirs,
For
you
there's

rosemary, and rue; these keep
Seeming, and savourt, all the winter long;
Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing!

NATURE AND ART.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter,--the fairest flowers o'the seaAre our carnations, and streak'd gillyflowers, (son Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them. * Swallowed.

+ Likeness and smell.

K

Pol.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them?
Per.

For* I have heard it said,
There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares
With great creating nature.
Pol.

Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race: This is an art Which does mend nature,—change it rather: but The art itself is nature.

A GARLAND FOR MIDDLE-AGED MEN.

I'll not put

The dibble of in earth to set one slip of them;
No more than, were I painted, I would wish [fore
This youth should say, 'twere well; and only there-
Desire to breed by me.—Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle

age.

A GARLAND FOR YOUNG MEN.

Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your And only live by gazing.

[flock, Per.

Out, alas! You'd be so lean, that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.--Now, my

yours, and

I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might Become your time of day; and

yours; That wear upon your virgin branches yet Your maidenheads growing:40 Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's* waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack, To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend, To strew him o'er and o’er.

A LOVER'S COMMENDATION. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have

you

do it ever: when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms; Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too: When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still

so, No other function: Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens,

and own

TRUE LOVE.

He says, he loves my daughter:
I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon

Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read,
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain,
I think there is not half a kiss to choose,

а Who loves another best.

PRESENTS LIGHTLY REGARDED BY REAL LOVERS.

Pol. How now, fair shepherd? Your heart is full of something, that does take Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was And handed love, as you do, I was wont (young, To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd The pedlar's silken treasury, and have pour'd it To her acceptance: you have let him go, And nothing marted* with him: if your lass Interpretation should abuse; and call this Your lack of love, or bounty: you were straitedt For a reply, at least, if you make a care Of happy holding her. Flo.

Old sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd Up in my heart; which I have giyen already, But not deliver'd.-0, hear me breathe

my

life Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, Hath some time lov’d: I take thy hand; this hand, As soft as dove's down, and as white as it; Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, That's bolted: by the northern blasts twice o'er. A FATHER THE BEST GUEST AT HIS SON'S NUPTIALS.

Pot. Methinks, a father Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest That best becomes the table. Pray you, once more: * Bought, trafficked.

+ Put to difficulties. # The sieve used to separate flour from bran is called a bolting-cloth.

a

Is not your father grown incapable
Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid
With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak? hear?
Know man from man? dispute his own estate* ?
Lies he not bedrid ? and again does nothing,
But what he did being childish?
Flo.

No, good sir :
He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed,
Than most have of his

age. Pol.

By my white beard, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong Something unfilial: Reason, my son, Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason, The father (all whose joy is nothing else But fair posterity,) should hold some counsel In such a business.

a

RURAL SIMPLICITY.

I was not much afeard: for once, or twice, I was about to speak; and tell him plainly, The selfsame sun, that shines upon

his court, Hides not his visage from our cottage, but Looks on alike.

LOVE CEMENTED BY PROSPERITY, BUT LOOSENED BY

ADVERSITY. Prosperity's the very bond of love; Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Affliction alters.

ACT V.

WONDER PROCEEDING FROM SUDDEN JOY.

There was speech in their dumbness, language