Charles Lamb

“ WOODVIL Never, never, Lovel. Spite of my levity, with tears I confess it, she was a lady of most confirmed honour, of an unmatchable spirit, and determinate in all virtuous resolutions; not hasty to anticipate an affront, nor slow to feel, where just provocation was given.
LOVEL
What made you neglect her, then?
WOODVIL Mere levity and youthfulness of blood, a malady incident to young men, physicians call it caprice. Nothing else. He, that slighted her, knew her value: and 'tis odds, but, for thy sake, Margaret, John will yet go to his grave a bachelor. ”

“ TO EMMA, LEARNING LATIN, AND DESPONDING (By Mary Lamb. ? 1827)
Droop not, dear Emma, dry those falling tears,
And call up smiles into thy pallid face,
Pallid and care-worn with thy arduous race:
In few brief months thou hast done the work of years.
To young beginnings natural are these fears.
A right good scholar shalt thou one day be,
And that no distant one; when even she,
Who now to thee a star far off appears,
That most rare Latinist, the Northern Maid—
The language-loving Sarah [15] of the Lake—
Shall hail thee Sister Linguist. ”

“ MELESINDA
You are not going, Betty?
MAID O, Madam, never mind me—I shall be back in the twinkling of a pig's whisker, as they say. [Exit.]
MR. H. Melesinda, you behold before you a wretch who would have betrayed your confidence, but it was love that prompted him; who would have tricked you by an unworthy concealment into a participation of that disgrace which a superficial world has agreed to attach to a name—but with it you would have shared a fortune not contemptible, and a heart—but 'tis over now. ”

“ Coleridge's own translation of Thekla's song, which was printed alone in later editions of the play, ran thus:—
The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar,
The damsel paces along the shore;
The billows they tumble with might, with might;
And she flings out her voice to the darksome night;
Her bosom is swelling with sorrow;
The world it is empty, the heart will die,
There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky:
Thou Holy One, call thy child away! ”

“ Reverting to the letter of November 28, one learns Lamb's intentions as to the play:—"My Tragedy will be a medley (as I intend it to be a medley) of laughter and tears, prose and verse, and in some places rhyme, songs, wit, pathos, humour, and, if possible, sublimity; at least it is not a fault in my intention if it does not comprehend most of these discordant atoms. Heaven send they dance not the 'Dance of Death'!" ”

“ SIR WALTER
Some riddle, Margaret?
MARGARET
No riddle, but a plain request.
SIR WALTER
Name it.
MARGARET
Free liberty of Sherwood,
And leave to take her lot with you in the forest.
SIR WALTER
A scant petition, Margaret, but take it,
Seal'd with an old man's tears.—
Rise, daughter of Sir Rowland.
(Addresses them both.)
O you most worthy,
You constant followers of a man proscribed,
Following poor misery in the throat of danger;
Fast servitors to craz'd and penniless poverty,
Serving poor poverty without hope of gain;
Kind children of a sire unfortunate ”

“ DAVENPORT
Marian!
FLINT I guess what is passing in your mind, Mr. Davenport; but you have behaved upon the whole so like a man of honour, that it will give me pleasure, if you will visit at my house for the future; but (smiling) not clandestinely, Marian.
MARIAN
Hush, father.
FLINT I own I had prejudices against gentry. But I have met with so much candour and kindness among my betters this day—from this gentleman in particular— (turning to the Justice) —that I begin to think of leaving off business, and setting up for a gentleman myself. ”

“ After a five years' wedlock.
KATHERINE
Was that well
Or charitably put? do these pale cheeks
Proclaim a wanton blood? this wasting form
Seem a fit theatre for Levity
To play his love-tricks on; and act such follies,
As even in Affection's first bland Moon
Have less of grace than pardon in best wedlocks?
I was about to say, that there are times,
When the most frank and sociable man
May surfeit on most loved society,
Preferring loneness rather—
MRS. FRAMPTON
To my company—
KATHERINE
Ay, your's, or mine, or any one's. ”

“ If one Cecilia drew an Angel down, another may have leave to attract a Spirit upwards; which, I am sure, was the most desperate adventure of the two. Wonder not at the inferior condition of the agent; for, if King Cophetua wooed a Beggar Maid, a greater king need not scorn to confess the attractions of a fair Tailor's daughter. The more disproportionate the rank, the more signal is the glory of your sex. Like that of Hecate, a triple empire is now confessed your own. Nor Heaven, nor Earth, nor deepest tracts of Erebus, as Milton hath it, have power to resist your sway. ”

“ COMMENDATORY VERSES TO THE AUTHOR OF POEMS, Published under the name of Barry Cornwall
(1820)
Let hate, or grosser heats, their foulness mask
Under the vizor of a borrowed name;
Let things eschew the light deserving blame:
No cause hast thou to blush for thy sweet task.
"Marcian Colonna" is a dainty book;
And thy "Sicilian Tale" may boldly pass;
Thy "Dream" 'bove all, in which, as in a glass,
On the great world's antique glories we may look.
No longer then, as "lowly substitute,
Factor, or PROCTOR, for another's gains,"
Suffer the admiring world to be deceived ”

“ He need not stick at, to maintain his friend's honor, or his cause.
LOVEL
I think many men would die for their friends.
JOHN
Death! why 'tis nothing. We go to it for sport,
To gain a name, or purse, or please a sullen humour,
When one has worn his fortune's livery threadbare,
Or his spleen'd mistress frowns. Husbands will venture on it,
To cure the hot fits and cold shakings of jealousy.
A friend, sir, must do more.
LOVEL
Can he do more than die?
JOHN
To serve a friend this he may do. Pray mark me. ”

“ Dan Phoebus loves your book—trust me, friend Hone—
The title only errs, he bids me say:
For while such art, wit, reading, there are shown,
He swears,'tis not a work of every day.
* * * * *
ACROSTICS TO CAROLINE MARIA APPLEBEE An Acrostic
Caroline glides smooth in verse,
And is easy to rehearse;
Runs just like some crystal river
O'er its pebbly bed for ever.
Lines as harsh and quaint as mine
In their close at least will shine,
Nor from sweetness can decline,
Ending but with Caroline. ”

“ Among his friends were Coleridge, Haydon, Hazlitt, Southey, Crabb Robinson and Lamb, all of whom, although they laughed at his excesses and excitements as a reformer, saw in him an invincible honesty and sincerity. ”

“ LOVEL I marvel why the poets, who, of all men, methinks, should possess the hottest livers, and most empyreal fancies, should affect to see such virtues in cold water.
GRAY
Virtue in cold water! ha! ha! ha!—
JOHN Because your poet-born hath an internal wine, richer than lippara or canaries, yet uncrushed from any grapes of earth, unpressed in mortal wine-presses. ”

“ First printed in the London Magazine for April, 1821, probably, I think, as a protest against the objection taken by some persons to the opinions expressed by Lamb in his essay on "New Year's Eve" in that magazine for January (see Vol. II., and notes) . Lamb had therein said, speaking of death:—"I am not content to pass away 'like a weaver's shuttle.' Those metaphors solace me not, nor sweeten the unpalatable draught of mortality. I care not to be carried with the tide, that smoothly bears human life to eternity; and reluct at the inevitable course of destiny. ”

“ I am convinced I was tricked into this elopement.
MISS FLYN
Your commands shall be obeyed implicitly.
MARIAN
You are good (agitated) .
MISS FLYN Moderate your apprehensions, my sweet friend. I too have known my sorrows— (smiling) .—You have heard of the ridiculous affair.
MARIAN Between Mr. Pendulous and you? Davenport informed me of it, and we both took the liberty of blaming the over-niceness of your scruples.
MISS FLYN You mistake. The refinement is entirely on the part of my lover. He thinks me not nice enough. ”

“ POEMS WRITTEN IN THE YEARS 1795-98, AND NOT REPRINTED BY LAMB SONNET (Summer, 1795)
The Lord of Life shakes off his drowsihed,
And 'gins to sprinkle on the earth below
Those rays that from his shaken locks do flow;
Meantime, by truant love of rambling led,
I turn my back on thy detested walls,
Proud City! and thy sons I leave behind,
A sordid, selfish, money-getting kind;
Brute things, who shut their ears when Freedom calls.
I pass not thee so lightly, well-known spire,
That minded me of many a pleasure gone,
Of merrier days, of love and Islington ”

“ Editor,—The riddling lines which I send you, were written upon a young lady, who, from her diverting sportiveness in childhood, was named by her friends The Ape. When the verses were written, L.M. had outgrown the title—but not the memory of it—being in her teens, and consequently past child-tricks. They are an endeavour to express that perplexity, which one feels at any alteration, even supposed for the better, in a beloved object; with a little oblique grudging at Time, who cannot bestow new graces without taking away some portion of the older ones, which we can ill miss. ”

“ ON THE SAME (By Mary Lamb. 1805)
Maternal lady with the virgin grace,
Heaven-born thy Jesus seemeth sure,
And of a virgin pure.
Lady most perfect, when thy sinless face
Men look upon, they wish to be
A Catholic, Madonna fair, to worship thee.
SONNETS TO MISS KELLY You are not, Kelly, of the common strain,
That stoop their pride and female honor down
To please that many-headed beast the town,
And vend their lavish smiles and tricks for gain ”

“ LINES Suggested by a Picture of Two Females by Lionardo da Vinci.
(By Mary Lamb. 1804)
The Lady Blanch, regardless of all her lovers' fears,
To the Urs'line convent hastens, and long the Abbess hears.
"O Blanch, my child, repent ye of the courtly life ye lead."
Blanch looked on a rose-bud and little seem'd to heed.
She looked on the rose-bud, she looked round, and thought
On all her heart had whisper'd, and all the Nun had taught.
"I am worshipped by lovers, and brightly shines my fame,
All Christendom resoundeth the noble Blanch's name. ”

“ May Albion cherish his old spouse the seas;
Keep over her a husband's firm command,
Not with too rigid nor too lax a hand.
Be gently patient to her swells and throws
When big with safeties to himself she goes;
Nor while she clips him in a fast embrace,
Stand for some female frowns upon her face.
But tell the rival world—and tell in Thunder,
Whom Nature joined, none ere shall put asunder.
PROLOGUE TO COLERIDGE'S TRAGEDY OF "REMORSE" (1813)
There are, I am told, who sharply criticise
Our modern theatres' unwieldy size. ”

“ ON THE FAST-DAY To name a Day for general prayer and fast
Is surely worse than of no sort of use;
For you may see with grief, from first to last
On fast-days people of all ranks are loose.
NONSENSE VERSES Lazy-bones, lazy-bones, wake up, and peep! ”