John Dryden

“ His vows address'd, within the grove he stray'd,
Till Fate, or Fortune, near the place convey'd
His steps where, secret, Palamon was laid.
Full little thought of him the gentle knight,
Who, flying death, had there conceal'd his flight,
In brakes and brambles hid, and shunning mortal sight:
And less he knew him for his hated foe,
But fear'd him as a man he did not know. 70
But as it has been said of ancient years,
That fields are full of eyes, and woods have ears;
For this the wise are ever on their guard,
For, unforeseen, they say, is unprepared. ”

“ What can I hope from this sad interview? And yet my brave design I will pursue. By many signs I have my rival found; But fortune him, as deep as me, does wound. For, if he loves the empress, his sad fate More moves my pity, than his scorn my hate. To her Placidius, with Porphyrius.
Plac. I am, perhaps, the first, Who, forced by fate, and in his own despite, Brought a loved rival to his mistress' sight.
Val. But, in revenge, let this your comfort be, That you have brought a man who loves not me. However, lay your causeless envy by; He is a rival, who must quickly die. ”

“ Spaniards, you See your own deplored estate:
What dare you do to reconcile your fate?
Vasq. All that despair, with courage joined, can do.
Odm. An easy way to victory I'll shew;
When all are buried in their sleep or joy,
I'll give you arms, burn, ravish, and destroy;
For my own share one beauty I design;
Engage your honour that she shall be mine.
Piz. I gladly swear.
Vasq.—And I; but I request That, in return, one, who has touched my breast, Whose name I know not, may be given to me.
Odm. Spaniard, 'tis just; she's yours, whoe'er she be. ”

“ How, with a Truth, you would a Falshood blind! 'Tis not my Father's love you have design'd; Your choice is fix'd where Youth and Pow'r are joyn'd.
Ind. Where Youth and Pow'r are joyn'd! has he a name?
Aur. You would be told; you glory in your shame: There's Music in the Sound; and, to provoke Your pleasure more, by me it must be spoke. Then, then it ravishes, when your pleas'd ear The sound does from a wretched Rival hear. Morat's the name your heart leaps up to meet, While Aureng-Zebe lies dying at your feet. ”

“ Your action still should reason's rules obey,
Nor in an empty scene may lose its way.
Your humble style must sometimes gently rise;
And your discourse sententious be, and wise:
The passions must to nature be confined;
And scenes to scenes with artful weaving joined.
Your wit must not unseasonably play;
But follow business, never lead the way.
Observe how Terence does this error shun:
A careful father chides his amorous son;
Then see that son, whom no advice can move,
Forget those orders, and pursue his love:
'Tis not a well-drawn picture we discover;
'Tis a true son, a father, and a lover. ”

“ A poet is, though he's the poet's horse.
A double noose thou on thy neck dost pull,
For writing treason, and for writing dull;
To die for faction is a common evil,
But to be hanged for nonsense is the devil.
Hadst thou the glories of thy king exprest,
Thy praises had been satire at the best;
But thou in clumsy verse, unlickt, unpointed,
Hast shamefully defied the Lord's anointed.
I will not rake the dunghill of thy crimes,
For who would read thy life that reads thy rhymes?
But of king David's foes, be this the doom,
May all be like the young man Absalom ”

“ Emp. Oh, Aureng-Zebe! thy virtues shine too bright,
They flash too fierce: I, like the bird of night,
Shut my dull eyes, and sicken at the sight.
Thou hast deserved more love than I can show;
But 'tis thy fate to give, and mine to owe.
Thou seest me much distempered in my mind;
Pulled back, and then pushed forward to be kind.
Virtue, and—fain I would my silence break,
But have not yet the confidence to speak.
Leave me, and to thy needful rest repair.
Aur. Rest is not suiting with a lover's care.
I have not yet my Indamora seen. ”

“ A little steadiness becomes a villain.
Clean. Oh, friend!—for yet I dare to call you so;
Which, if I were a villain, sure I durst not,—
Hear me, or kill me!
Cleom. So, by heaven, I would,
For thy profaning friendship's holy name;
But, for thou see'st no justice hanging here,
On this bare side, thou talk'st secure of vengeance.
Clean. Then, if you had a sword, my death's resolved?
Cleom. Thy conscience answers thee.
Clean. Without more evidence than bare surmise;
At most, appearance of a crime unproved;
And, while unproved, uncertain.
Cleom. Traitor, no more! 'tis fulsome. ”

“ O brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry, and flower of fidelity!
Cres. Peace, for shame, peace!
Pand. Nay, but mark him then! O brave Troilus! there's a man of men, niece! look you how his sword is bloody, and his helmet more hacked than Hector's, and how he looks, and how he goes! O admirable youth! he never saw two-and-twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way! had I a sister were a grace, and a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice of them. O admirable man! Paris, Paris is dirt to him, and I warrant, Helen, to change, would give all the shoes in her shop to boot. ”

“ King. Hast thou not said,
That he deserves it?
Gril. Yes; but how have I
Deserved to do a murder?
King. 'Tis no murder;
'Tis sovereign justice, urged from self-defence.
Gril. 'Tis all confest, and yet I dare not do't.
King. Go; thou art a coward.
Gril. You are my king.
King. Thou say'st, thou dar'st not kill him.
Gril. Were I a coward, I had been a villain,
And then I durst have done't.
King. Thou hast done worse, in thy long course of arms.
Hast thou ne'er killed a man?
Gril. Yes, when a man would have killed me.
King. Hast thou not plundered from the helpless poor? ”

“ How easy 'tis for parents to forgive!
With how few tears a pardon might be won
From nature, pleading for a darling son! 960
Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care,
Raised up to all the height his frame could bear!
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born,
He would have given his soul another turn:
Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense
Is one that would by law supplant his prince;
The people's brave, the politician's tool;
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Whence comes it, that religion and the laws
Should more be Absalom's than David's cause? ”

“ And well deserved, had fortune done him right:
'Tis time to mend her fault; since Emily
By Arcite's death from former vows is free:
If you, fair sister, ratify the accord,
And take him for your husband, and your lord,
'Tis no dishonour to confer your grace
On one descended from a royal race: 1130
And were he less, yet years of service past,
From grateful souls exact reward at last:
Pity is Heaven's and yours; nor can she find
A throne so soft as in a woman's mind.
He said; she blush'd; and as o'er-awed by might,
Seem'd to give Theseus what she gave the knight. ”

“ I just approach to all I would possess:
Death only stands 'twixt me and happiness.
Alm. Your father, with his life, has lost his throne: Your country's freedom and renown is gone. Honour requires your death; you must obey.
Cyd. Do you die first, and shew me then the way.
Alm. Should you not follow, my revenge were lost.
Cyd. Then rise again, and fright me with your ghost.
Alm. I will not trust to that; since death I chuse,
I'll not leave you that life which I refuse:
If death's a pain, it is not less to me;
And if 'tis nothing, 'tis no more to thee. ”

“ For all the bribes of life are gone away.
⁠Ven.⁠Wou'd you be taken?
⁠Ant.⁠Yes, I wou'd be taken;
But, as a Roman ought, dead, my Ventidius:
For I'll convey my Soul from Cæsar's reach,
And lay down life my self. 'Tis time the World
Shou'd have a Lord, and know whom to obey.
We two have kept its Homage in suspence,
And bent the Globe on whose each side we trod,
Tell it was dinted inwards: Let him walk
Alone upon't; I'm weary of my part.
My Torch is out; and the World stands before me
Like a black Desart, at the approach of night:
I'll lay me down, and stray no farther on. ”

“ I'll be civil, I'm what I was, a little harmless devil. For, after death, we spirits have just such natures, We had, for all the world, when human creatures; And, therefore, I, that was an actress here, Play all my tricks in hell, a goblin there. Gallants, look to't, you say there are no sprites; But I'll come dance about your beds at nights. And faith you'll be in a sweet kind of taking, When I surprise you between sleep and waking. To tell you true, I walk, because I die Out of my calling, in a tragedy. O poet, damn'd dull poet, who could prove So senseless, to make Nelly die for love! ”

“ I, my own judge, condemned myself before;
For pity aggravate my crime no more!
So weak I am, I with a frown am slain;
You need have used but half so much disdain.
Ind. I am not cruel yet to that degree;
Have better thoughts both of yourself and me.
Beauty a monarch is,
Which kingly power magnificently proves,
By crowds of slaves, and peopled empire loves:
And such a slave as you what queen would lose?
Above the rest, I Arimant would chuse,
For counsel, valour, truth, and kindness too;
All I could wish in man, I find in you.
Arim. What lover could to greater joy be raised? ”

“ And my own slaves the sovereigns:—'tis resolved.
Weak princes flatter, when they want the power
To curb their people; tender plants must bend:
But when a government is grown to strength,
Like some old oak, rough with its armed bark,
It yields not to the tug, but only nods,
And turns to sullen state.
Bend. Then you resolve
To implore her pity, and to beg relief?
Emp. Death! must I beg the pity of my slave?
Must a king beg?—Yes; love's a greater king;
A tyrant, nay, a devil, that possesses me:
He tunes the organs of my voice, and speaks,
Unknown to me, within me ”

“ Ah turn your sight to me, my dearest Lord! Can you not one, one parting look afford? Ev'n so unkind in death? but 'tis in vain; I lose my breath, and to the Winds complain: Yet 'tis as much in vain your cruel scorn; Still I can love, without this last return. Nor Fate, nor You, can my vow'd faith controul; Dying, I'll follow your disdainful Soul: A Ghost, I'll haunt your Ghost; and, where you go, With mournful murmurs fill the Plains below.
Mor. Be happy, Melesinda, cease to grieve, And, for a more deserving Husband, live: Can you forgive me? ”

“ These eyes, I thank the gods,
Are still the same. The diamonds are not dimmed,
Nor is their lustre lost in Ptolemy.
Small boast: Alas! Ptolemy has no soul;
'Tis what he wants I love in Cleomenes.
Perhaps he dares not think I would be loved;
Then must I make the advance, and, making, lose
The vast prerogative our sex enjoys,
Of being courted first.—Courted! To what?
To our own wishes: There's the point; but still,
To speak our wishes first;—forbid it, pride,
Forbid it, modesty!—True; they forbid it,
But nature does not. When we are athirst,
Or hungry, will imperious nature stay? ”

“ But we need not call our heroes to our aid; be it spoken to the honour of the English, our nation can never want in any age such, who are able to dispute the empire of wit with any people in the universe. And though the fury of a civil war, and power, for twenty years together, abandoned to a barbarous race of men, enemies of all good learning, had buried the muses under the ruins of monarchy; yet, with the restoration of our happiness, we see revived poesy lifting up its head, and already shaking off the rubbish which lay so heavy on it. ”

“ Enter Raymond, Alphonso, and Pedro.
Raym. Are these, are these, ye powers, the promised joys,
With which I flattered my long, tedious absence,
To find, at my return, my master murdered?
O, that I could but weep, to vent my passion!
But this dry sorrow burns up all my tears.
Alph. Mourn inward, brother; 'tis observed at court,
Who weeps, and who wears black; and your return
Will fix all eyes on every act of yours,
To see how you resent King Sancho's death.
Raym. What generous man can live with that constraint
Upon his soul, to bear, much less to flatter,
A court like this! ”

“ VENTIDIUS. I can die with you too, when time shall serve;
But fortune calls upon us now to live,
To fight, to conquer.
ANTONY. Sure thou dream'st, Ventidius.
VENTIDIUS. No; 'tis you dream; you sleep away your hours
In desperate sloth, miscalled philosophy.
Up, up, for honour's sake; twelve legions wait you,
And long to call you chief: By painful journeys
I led them, patient both of heat and hunger,
Down form the Parthian marches to the Nile.
'Twill do you good to see their sunburnt faces,
Their scarred cheeks, and chopt hands: there's virtue in them. ”

“ Either you come not here, or, as you grace
Some old acquaintance, drop into the place,
Careless and qualmish, with a yawning face:
You sleep o'er wit, and, by my troth, you may;
Most of your talents lie another way.
You love to hear of some prodigious tale,
The bell that toll'd alone, or Irish whale.
News is your food, and you enough provide, 20
Both for yourselves, and all the world beside;
One theatre there is of vast resort,
Which whilome of Requests was called the Court;
But now the great Exchange of News 'tis hight,
And full of hum and buzz from noon till night. ”

“ So bravely sought, while sought by Absalom.
Ah, prince! the illustrious planet of thy birth,
And thy more powerful virtue, guard thy worth! 1000
That no Achitophel thy ruin boast;
Israel too much in one such wreck has lost.
Even envy must consent to Helon's worth,
Whose soul, though Egypt glories in his birth,
Could for our captive-ark its zeal retain.
And Pharaoh's altars in their pomp disdain:
To slight his gods was small; with nobler pride,
He all the allurements of his court defied;
Whom profit nor example could betray,
But Israel's friend, and true to David's sway. ”

“ I am deaf to all asseverations, that make against my honour.
Aur. I'll swear it then. We two were the two rogues, and you the discoverer of our villany.
Ben. Then, woe, woe, to poor Benito! I find my abundance of wit has ruined me.
Aur. But come a little nearer: I would not receive a good office from a servant, but I would reward him for his diligence.
Ben. Virtue, sir, is its own reward: I expect none from you.
Aur. Since it is so, sir, you shall lose no further time in my service: Henceforward, pray know me for your humble servant; for your master I am resolved to be no longer. ”

“ O wretched Philocles! whither would love Hurry thee headlong?
Lys. Cease these exclamations.
There's no danger on your side: 'tis but to
Live without my sister; resolve that,
And you have shot the gulf.
Phil. To live without her! Is that nothing, think you? The damned in hell endure no greater pain, Than seeing heaven from far with hopeless eyes.
Cand. Candiope must die, and die for you:— See it not unrevenged at least.
Phil. Ha, unrevenged! On whom should I revenge it?—
But yet she dies, and I may hinder it?
'Tis I then murder my Candiope:—
And yet, should I take arms against my queen! ”

“ To him Porphyrius.
Por. I come, sir, to expect your great commands.
Max. My happiness lies only in thy hands; And, since I have adopted thee my son, I'll keep no secret from thy breast unknown. Led by the interest of my rising fate, I did espouse this empress, whom I hate; And, therefore, with less shame I may declare, That I the fetters of thy captive wear.
Por. Sir, you amaze me with so strange a love.
Max. Pity, my son, those flames you disapprove. The cause of love can never be assigned; 'Tis in no face, but in the lover's mind. ”

“ That love to others still remains unfix'd: Greatness, and Noise, and Show, are your delight; Yet wise men love you, in their own despight: And, finding in their native Wit no ease. Are forc'd to put your folly on to please.
Ind. Now you shall know what cause you have to rage; But to increase your fury, not asswage: I found the way your Brother's heart to move, Yet promis'd not the least return of Love. His Pride, and Brutal fierceness I abhor; But scorn your mean suspitions of me more. I ow'd my Honour and my Fame this care: Know what your folly lost you, and despair. ”

“ As a poet, I cannot but have made some observations on mankind; the lowness of my fortune has not yet brought me to flatter vice; and it is my duty to give testimony to virtue. It is true, your lordship is not of that nature, which either seeks a commendation, or wants it. Your mind has always been above the wretched affectation of popularity. A popular man is, in truth, no better than a prostitute to common fame, and to the people. He lies down to every one he meets for the hire of praise; and his humility is only a disguised ambition. ”

“ GENTLEMAN. He sees not Cleopatra.
VENTIDIUS. Would he had never seen her!
GENTLEMAN. He eats not, drinks not, sleeps not, has no use
Of anything, but thought; or if he talks,
'Tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving:
Then he defies the world, and bids it pass,
Sometimes he gnaws his lips, and curses loud
The boy Octavius; then he draws his mouth
Into a scornful smile, and cries, "Take all,
The world's not worth my care."
VENTIDIUS. Just, just his nature.
Virtue's his path; but sometimes 'tis too narrow
For his vast soul ”

“ I think, my lord, the king sent not for you.
Gui. Do you not fear, your visit will be known?
Mar. Fear is for guilty men, rebels, and traitors:
Where'er I go, my virtue is my guard.
Gui. What devil has sent thee here to plague my soul?
O that I could detest thee now as much
As ever I have loved, nay, even as much
As yet, in spite of all thy crimes, I love!
But 'tis a love so mixt with dark despair,
The smoke and soot smother the rising flame,
And make my soul a furnace. Woman, woman,
What can I call thee more? if devil, 'twere less. ”

“ A comedy, which should the knowing take,
That our dull poet, in despair to please,
Does humbly beg, by me, his writ of ease.
'Tis a land-tax, which he's too poor to pay;
You therefore must some other impost lay. 40
Would you but change, for serious plot and verse,
This motley garniture of fool and farce,
Nor scorn a mode, because 'tis taught at home,
Which does, like vests, our gravity become,
Our poet yields you should this play refuse:
As tradesmen, by the change of fashions, lose,
With some content, their fripperies of France,
In hope it may their staple trade advance. ”

“ I never durst in darkness be alone:
I beg, I throw me humbly at your feet.
Cort. You must not go where you may dangers meet. The unruly sword will no destinction make; And beauty will not there give wounds, but take.
Alm. Then stay and take me with you; tho' to be
A slave to wait upon your victory.
My heart unmoved can noise and horror bear:
Parting from you is all the death I fear.
Cort. Almeria, 'tis enough I leave you free: You neither must stay here, nor go with me.
Aim. Then take my life, that will my rest restore: 'Tis all I ask, for saving yours before. ”

“ I honour Berenice's virtue much; But for Porphyrius my love is such, I cannot, will not live, when he is gone.
Max. I'll do that cure for you, which on myself is done. You must, like me, your lover's life remove; Cut off your hope, and you destroy your love. If it were hard, I would not bid you try The medicine; but 'tis but to let him die. Yet since you are so soft, (which you call good,) And are not yet confirmed enough in blood, To see his death; Your frailty shall be favoured with this grace, That they shall suffer in another place. ”

“ For whom your care so long design'd the Throne. Morat must fall, if Aureng-Zebe should rise.
Nour. 'Tis true; but who was ere in love, and wise? Why was that fatal knot of Marriage ti'd, Which did, by making us too near, divide? Divides me from my Sex! for Heav'n, I find Excludes but me alone of Woman-kind. I stand with guilt confounded, lost with shame, And yet made wretched onely by a name. If names have such command on humane Life, Love sure's a name that's more Divine than Wife. That Sovereign power all guilt from action takes, At least the stains are beautiful it makes. ”

“ Let furies drag thee quick to hell; let all
The longer damned have rest; each torturing hand
Do thou employ, till Cleopatra comes;
Then join thou too, and help to torture her!
[Exit ALEXAS, thrust out by ANTONY.]
OCTAVIA. 'Tis not well.
Indeed, my lord, 'tis much unkind to me,
To show this passion, this extreme concernment,
For an abandoned, faithless prostitute.
ANTONY. Octavia, leave me; I am much disordered:
Leave me, I say.
OCTAVIA. My lord!
ANTONY. I bid you leave me.
VENTIDIUS. Obey him, madam: best withdraw a while,
And see how this will work. ”

“ Counsel was not enough to sway my heart;
An absolute restraint had been your part.
Adam. Even such returns do they deserve to find,
When force is lawful, who are fondly kind.
Unlike my love; for when thy guilt I knew,
I shared the curse which did that crime pursue.
Hard fate of love! which rigour did forbear,
And now 'tis taxed, because 'twas not severe.
Eve. You have yourself your kindness overpaid;
He ceases to oblige, who can upbraid.
Adam. On women's virtue, who too much rely,
To boundless will give boundless liberty. ”

“ This humble tribute of no vulgar Muse: 360
Who, not by cares, or wants, or age depress'd,
Stems a wild deluge with a dauntless breast;
And dares to sing thy praises in a clime
Where vice triumphs, and virtue is a crime;
Where even to draw the picture of thy mind,
Is satire on the most of human kind:
Take it, while yet 'tis praise; before my rage,
Unsafely just, break loose on this bad age;
So bad, that thou thyself hadst no defence
From vice, but barely by departing hence. 370
Be what, and where thou art: to wish thy place,
Were, in the best, presumption more than grace. ”