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قراءة كتاب Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 7

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Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 7

Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 7

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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class="stanza">Am. May be a fright.

Ism. Aminta, 'twas a sweet one,
And yet a cruel.
Am. Now I find the wound plain:
A wondrous handsome Gentleman.
Ism. Oh no deeper:
Prethee be silent, (wench) it may be thy case.
Am. You must be searched; the wound will rancle, Cosen
And of so sweet a nature.
Ism. Dear Aminta:
Make it not sorer.
Am. And on my life admires ye.
Ism. Call the Coach, Cosen.
Am. The Coach, the Coach.
Ter. 'Tis ready bring the Coach there.
Lis. Well my brave Enemies, we shall yet meet ye,
And our old hate shall testifie.
Ter. It shall (Cosen.) [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Antonio and Martine.

Ant. Their swords, alass, I weigh 'em not (dear Friend)
The indiscretion of the Owners blunts 'em;
The fury of the House affrights not me,
It spends it self in words: (Oh me Martine)
There was a two edg'd eye, a Lady carried
A weapon that no valor can avoyd,
Nor Art (the hand of Spirit) put aside.
O Friend, it broke out on me like a bullet
Wrapt in a cloud of fire: that point (Martine)
Dazled my sence, and was too subtle for me,
Shot like a Comet in my face, and wounded
(To my eternal ruine,) my hearts valor.
Mar. Methinks she was no such piece.
Ant. Blaspheme not Sir,
She is so far beyond weak commendation,
That impudence will blush to think ill of her.
Mar. I see it not, and yet I have both eyes open:
And I could judge, I know there is no beauty
Till our eyes give it 'em, and make 'em handsome;
What's red and white, unless we do allow 'em?
A green face else; and me-thinks such an other.
Ant. Peace thou leud Heretick; Thou judge of beauties?
Thou hast an excellent sense for a sign-post (Friend)
Dost thou not see? I'll swear thou art soon blind else,
As blind as ignorance; when she appeared first
Aurora breaking in the east, and through her face,
As if the hours and graces had strew'd Roses,
A blush of wonder flying; when she was frighted
At our uncivil swords, didst thou not mark
How far beyond the purity of snow
The soft wind drives, whiteness of innocence,
Or any thing that bears Celestial paleness,
She appear'd o'th'sodain? Didst thou not see her tears
When she intreated? O thou Reprobate!
Didst thou not see those orient tears flow'd from her,
The little Worlds of Love? A set (Martine)
Of such sanctified Beads, and a holy heart to love
I could live ever a Religious Hermite.
M[a]r. I do believe a little, and yet methinks
She was of the lowest stature.
Ant. A rich Diamond
Set neat and deep, Natures chief Art (Martine)
Is to reserve her Models curious,
Not cumbersome and great; and such an one
For fear she should exceed, upon her matter
Has she fram'd this; Oh 'tis a spark of beauty,
And where they appear so excellent in little,
They will but flame in great; Extention spoils 'em:
Martine learn this, the narrower that our eyes
Keep way unto our object, still the sweeter
That comes unto us: Great bodies are like Countries,
Discovering still, toyl and no pleasure finds 'em.
Mar. A rare Cosmographer for a small Island,
Now I believe she is handsome.
Ant. Believe heartily,
Let thy belief, though long a coming, save thee.
Mar. She was (certain) fair.
Ant. But heark ye (friend Martine)
Do not believe your self too far before me,
For then you may wrong me, Sir.
Mar. Who bid ye teach me?
Do you show me meat, and stitch my lips (Antonio?)
Is that fair play?
Ant. Now if thou shouldst abuse me,
And yet I know thee for an errant wencher,
A most immoderate thing, thou canst not love long.
Mar. A little serves my turn, I fly at all games,
But I believe.
Ant. How if we never see her more?
She is our enemy.
Mar. Why are you jealous then?
As far as I conceive she hates our whole House.
Ant. Yet (good Martine)
Mar. Come, come, I have mercy on ye:
You shall enjoy her in your dream (Antonio)
And I'll not hinder: though now I perswade my self.

Enter Aminta with a Letter.

Ant. Sit with perswasion down, and you deal honestly:
I will look better on her.
Mar. Stay, who's this,

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