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Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'ft, I warrant. We shall have old fwearing,
That they did give the rings away to men; But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too: -Away, make hafte, thou know'ft where I will tarry, Ner. Come, good Sir, will you fhew me to this house? [Exeunt.
ACT V. SCENE I.
Belmont. A Grove, or green Place, before
Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica.
HE moon fhines bright-In fuch a night as this, When the fweet wind did gently kifs the trees, And they did make no noife; in fuch a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall; And figh'd his foul towards the Grecian tents, Where Creffid lay that night.
Jef. In fuch a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew
Lor. In fuch a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Jef. In fuch a night,
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs,
Did Jeffica fteal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
Jef. And in fuch a night,
Did young Lorenzo fwear, he lov'd her well;
Lor. And in fuch a night,
Did pretty Jeffica (like a little fhrew)
Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come: But hark, I hear the footing of a man.
Lor. Who comes so fast, in filence of the night? Mef. A friend.
Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray
Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word,,
Lor. Who comes with her?
Mef. None, but a holy hermit,' and her maid. -I pray you, is my master yet return'd?
Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
Laun. Sola, fola, wo ha, ho, fola, fola!
1 None but a boly bermit.] I do not perceive the use of this hermit, of whom nothing is feen or heard afterwards. The Poet had first
planned his fable fome other way, and inadvertently, when he changed his fcheme, retained fomething of the original defign. Lor. Hh3
Lor. Who calls ?
Laun. Sola! did you fee Mafter Lorenzo and Miftrefs Lorenza? fola, fola!
Ler. Leave hollowing, man: here.
Laun. Sola! where? where?
Laun. Tell him, there's a poft come from my mafter with his horn full of good news. My mafter will be here ere morning.
Lor. Sweet love, let's in, and there expect their coming.
And yet no matter-why fhould we go in?
[Exit Stephano, How fweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bank! Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufick Creep in our ears; foft ftillness, and the night Become the touches of fweet harmony. Sit, Felica: look, how the floor of heav'n Is thick inlay'd with pattens of bright gold;" There's not the fmalleft orb, which thou behold'ft, But in his motion like an angel fings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims Such harmony is in immortal fouls! 3
fo much celebrated by the antients. He fays, the malleft orb fings like an angel; and then fabjoins, fuch barmony is in immortal fouls: But the harmony of angels is not here meant, but of the orbs. Nor are we to think, that here the poet alludes to the notion, that each orb has its intelligence or angel to direct it; for then with no propriety could he fay, the orb fung like an angel:
But whilft this muddy vesture of decay
Jef. I'm never merry, when I hear fwcet mufick.
Lor. The reason is, your fpirits are attentive;
he fhould rather have faid, the
Such harmony is in immortal
i.e. in the mufick of the spheres.
Nunc quoque fidereis intercinit ipfe
It is proper to exhibit the
Such harmony is in immortal fouls, But while this muddy veflure of decay
Doth grofly clofe in it, we cannot bear it.
That the third is corrupt must be allowed, but it gives reason to fufpect that the original was,
Doth grofly close it in.
Yet I know not whether from this any thing better can be produced than the received reading. Perhaps harmony is the power of perceiving harmony, as afterwards, Mufick in the foul is the quality of being moved with concord of Sweet jounds. This will fomewhat explain the old copies, but the fentence is ftill imperfect. wake Diana with a hymn ;] Diana is the Moon, who is in the next fcene reprefented as fleeping. Hh 4
Since nought so stockifh, hard and full of rage,
Por. That light we fee, is burning in my hall :
So fhines a good deed in a naughty world.
Ner. When the moon fhone, we did not fee the candle..
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the lefs:
Ner. It is your mufick, Madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without respect : 6 Methinks, it founds much fweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence beftows the virtue on it, Madam.