Heaven witness

I have been to you a true and humble wife.
Henry VIII, Act ii, Scene 4.
Gentle lady,

When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you all the wealth I had.
Merchant of Venice, Act iii, Scene 2.

The leisure and the fearful time
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,
And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell
upon.
Richard III, Act V, Scene 3.

I know thee not, old man; fall to thy prayers. 2 Henry IV, Act v, Scene 5.

Farewell, Thou pure impiety, and impious purity, For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv, Scene 1.

LOVE will expire, the gay, the happy dream Will turn to scorn, indiff'rence, or esteem: Some favour'd pairs, in this exchange, are bless'd,

Nor sigh for raptures in a state of rest; Others, ill match'd, with minds unpair'd, repent

At once the deed, and know no more content;
From joy to anguish they, in haste, decline,
And with their fondness, their esteem resign:
More luckless still their fate, who are the prey
Of long-protracted hope and dull delay ;
'Mid plans of bliss the heavy hours pass on,
Till love is wither'd, and till joy is gone.
This gentle flame two youthful hearts
possess'd,

The sweet disturber of unenvied rest :
The prudent Dinah was the maid beloved,
And the kind Rupert was the swain approved:
A wealthy aunt her gentle niece sustain'd,
He, with a father, at his desk remain'd;
The youthful couple, to their vows sincere,
Thus loved expectant; year succeeding year,
With pleasant views and hopes, but not a
prospect near.

Rupert some comfort in his station saw,
But the poor virgin lived in dread and awe;
Upon her anxious looks the widow smiled,
And bade her wait, for she was yet a child.'
She for her neighbour had a due respect,
Nor would his son encourage or reject;

And thus the pair, with expectations vain, Beheld the seasons change and change again : Meantime the nymph her tender tales perused, Where cruel aunts impatient girls refused; While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind, And she, resenting, to be all resign'd.

The dame was sick, and when the youth applied

For her consent, she groan'd, and cough'd, and cried :

Talk'd of departing, and again her breath Drew hard, and cough'd, and talk'd again of death:

Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy
And you together my estate enjoy ; '
Thus to the lovers was her mind express'd,
Till they forbore to urge the fond request.
Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and
friend,

Dinah had still some duty to attend ;
But yet their walk, when Rupert's evening call
Obtain'd an hour, made sweet amends for all ;
So long they now each other's thoughts had
known,

That nothing seem'd exclusively their own;
But with the common wish, the mutual fear,
They now had travell'd to their thirtieth year.

At length a prospect open'd-but, alas ! Long time must yet, before the union, pass; Rupert was call'd in other clime, t' increase Another's wealth, and toil for future peace; Loth were the lovers; but the aunt declared 'Twas fortune's call, and they must be prepared;

'You now are young, and for this brief delay, And Dinah's care, what I bequeath will pay; All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that

sigh;

The kind must suffer, and the best must die: Then came the cough, and strong the signs it

gave

Of holding long contention with the grave.
The lovers parted with a gloomy view,
And little comfort but that both were true;
He for uncertain duties doom'd to steer,
While hers remain'd too certain and severe.
Letters arrived, and Rupert fairly told
'His cares were many, and his hopes were
cold;

The view more clouded, that was never fair,
And love alone preserved him from despair:
In other letters brighter hopes he drew,
His friends were kind, and he believed them
true.'

When the sage widow Dinah's grief descried, She wonder'd much why one so happy sigh'd: Then bade her see how her poor aunt sustain'd The ills of life, nor murmur'd nor complain'd. To vary pleasures, from the lady's chest Were drawn the pearly string and tabby vest; Beads, jewels, laces, all their value shown, With the kind notice- They will be your

own.'

This hope, these comforts cherish'd day by day,

To Dinah's bosom made a gradual way;
Till love of treasure had as large a part,
As love of Rupert, in the virgin's heart.
Whether it be that tender passions fail,
From their own nature, while the strong
prevail;

Or whether av'rice, like the poison-tree,*
Kills all beside it, and alone will be;
Whatever cause prevail'd, the pleasure

grew

And for the verses she was wont to send, Short was her prose, and she was Rupert's friend.

Seldom she wrote, and then the widow's cough,

And constant call, excused her breaking off;
Who, now oppress'd, no longer took the air,
But sate and dozed upon an easy chair.
The cautious doctor saw the case was clear,
But judged it best to have companions near;
They came, they reason'd, they prescribed-
at last,

Like honest men, they said their hopes were past;

Then came a priest-'tis comfort to reflect,
When all is over, there was no neglect;
And all was over-by her husband's bones,
The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones,
That yet record their fondness and their fame,
While all they left the virgin's care became
Stock, bonds, and buildings;-it disturb'd
her rest,

To think what load of troubles she possess'd:
Yet, if a trouble, she resolved to take
Th' important duty, for the donor's sake;
She too was heiress to the widow's taste,

view;

With lively joy those comforts she survey'd, And love grew languid in the careful maid. Now the grave niece partook the widow's cares,

Look'd to the great and ruled the small affairs; Saw clean'd the plate, arranged the china show,

And felt her passion for a shilling grow:
Th' indulgent aunt increased the maid's
delight,

By placing tokens of her wealth in sight;
She loved the value of her bonds to tell,
And spake of stocks, and how they rose and
fell.

This passion grew, and gain'd at length

such sway,

That other passions shrank to make it way; Romantic notions now the heart forsook, She read but seldom, and she changed her book;

* Allusion is here made, not to the well-known species of sumach, called the poison oak, or toxicodendron, but to the upas, or poison-tree of Java: whether it be real or imaginary, this is no proper place for inquiry.

intrude,

And then a conflict full of care ensued ; The thoughts of Rupert on her mind would press,

His worth she knew, but doubted his success;
Of old she saw him heedless; what the boy
Forbore to save, the man would not enjoy;
Oft had he lost the chance that care would
seize,

Willing to live, but more to live at ease:
Yet could she not a broken vow defend,
And Heav'n, perhaps, might yet enrich her
friend.

Month after month was pass'd, and all were spent

In quiet comfort and in rich content: Miseries there were, and woes the world around,

But these had not her pleasant dwelling found; She knew that mothers grieved, and widows

shown,

And felt in every bosom but her own.
The one presiding feature in her mind,
Was the pure meekness of a will resign'd;
A tender spirit, freed from all pretence
Of wit, and pleased in mild benevolence;
Bless'd in protecting fondness she reposed,
With every wish indulged though undisclosed;
But love, like zephyr on the limpid lake,
Was now the bosom of the maid to shake,
And in that gentle mind a gentle strife to
make.

Among their chosen friends a favour'd few,
The aunt and niece a youthful rector knew;
Who, though a younger brother, might address
A younger sister, fearless of success:
His friends, a lofty race, their native pride
At first display'd, and their assent denied ;
But, pleased such virtues and such love to
trace,

They own'd she would adorn the loftiest race.
The aunt, a mother's caution to supply,
Had watch'd the youthful priest with jealous
eye;

And, anxious for her charge, had view'd

unseen

Favours so freely as her gentle aunt.-
Her gentle aunt, with smiles that angels wear,
Dispell'd her Lucy's apprehensive tear:
Her prudent foresight the request had made
To one whom none could govern, few per-
suade;

She doubted much if one in earnest woo'd
A girl with not a single charm endued ;
The sister's nobler views she then declared,
And what small sum for Lucy could be spared;
'If more than this the foolish priest requires,
Tell him,' she wrote, 'to check his vain
desires.'

At length, with many a cold expression mix'd, With many a sneer on girls so fondly fix'd, There came a promise-should they not

repent,

But take with grateful minds the portion meant,

And wait the sister's day-the mother might consent.

And here, might pitying hope o'er truth

prevail,

Or love o'er fortune, we would end our tale : For who more bless'd than youthful pair removed

clean :

In all she found him all she wish'd to find,
With slight exception of a lofty mind:
A certain manner that express'd desire,
To be received as brother to the 'squire.
Lucy's meek eye had beam'd with many a tear,
Lucy's soft heart had beat with many a fear,
Before he told (although his looks, she thought,
Had oft confess'd) that he her favour sought:
But when he kneel'd, (she wish'd him not to
kneel,)

And spoke the fears and hopes that lovers feel;

When too the prudent aunt herself confess'd,
Her wishes on the gentle youth would rest;
The maiden's eye with tender passion beam'd,
She dwelt with fondness on the life she
schemed ;

The household cares, the soft and lasting ties
Of love, with all his binding charities;
Their village taught, consoled, assisted, fed,
Till the young zealot tears of pleasure shed.
But would her mother? Ah! she fear'd
it wrong

approved

Short time to wait, and in that time to live With all the pleasures hope and fancy give; Their equal passion raised on just esteem, When reason sanctions all that love can dream?

Yes! reason sanctions what stern fate

denies :

The early prospect in the glory dies,
As the soft smiles on dying infants play
In their mild features, and then pass away.
The beauty died, ere she could yield her

hand

In the high marriage by the mother plann'd: Who grieved indeed, but found a vast relief In a cold heart, that ever warr'd with grief.

Lucy was present when her sister died, Heiress to duties that she ill supplied: There were no mutual feelings, sister arts, No kindred taste, nor intercourse of hearts When in the mirror play'd the matron's smile, The maiden's thoughts were trav'lling all the

while;

name,

And with superior rank, superior offers claim:
Your sister's lover, when his sorrows die,
May look upon you, and for favour sigh;
Nor can you offer a reluctant hand;
His birth is noble, and his seat is grand.'

Alarm'd was Lucy, was in tears- A fool!
Was she a child in love ?-a miss at school?
Doubts any mortal, if a change of state
Dissolves all claims and ties of earlier date?'
The rector doubted, for he came to mourn
A sister dead, and with a wife return:
Lucy with heart unchanged received the
youth,

True in herself, confiding in his truth; But own'd her mother's change: the haughty dame

Pour'd strong contempt upon the youthful flame;

She firmly vow'd her purpose to pursue, Judged her own cause, and bade the youth adieu !

The lover begg'd, insisted, urged his pain His brother wrote to threaten and complain, Her sister reasoning proved the promise made, Lucy appealing to a parent pray'd;

But all opposed th' event that she design'd, And all in vain-she never changed her mind; But coldly answer'd in her wonted way, That she would rule, and Lucy must obey.' With peevish fear, she saw her health decline,

And cried, 'Oh! monstrous, for a man to pine;

But if your foolish heart must yield to love, Let him possess it whom I now approve; This is my pleasure: '-Still the rector came With larger offers and with bolder claim; But the stern lady would attend no moreShe frown'd, and rudely pointed to the door; Whate'er he wrote, he saw unread return'd, And he, indignant, the dishonour spurn'd; Nay, fix'd suspicion where he might confide, And sacrificed his passion to his pride.

Lucy, meantime, though threaten'd and distress'd,

Against her marriage made a strong protest:

All was domestic war: the aunt rebell'd
Against the sovereign will, and was expell'd;
And every power was tried and every art,
To bend to falsehood one determined heart;
Assail'd, in patience it received the shock,
Soft as the wave, unshaken as the rock :
But while th' unconquer'd soul endures the
storm

Of angry fate, it preys upon the form;
With conscious virtue she resisted still,
And conscious love gave vigour to her will:
But Lucy's trial was at hand; with joy
The mother cried-Behold your constant
boy-

Thursday-was married :-take the paper, sweet,

And read the conduct of your reverend cheat; See with what pomp of coaches, in what crowd The creature married-of his falsehood proud! False, did I say ?—at least no whining fool; And thus will hopeless passions ever cool : But shall his bride your single state reproach? No! give him crowd for crowd, and coach for coach.

Oh! you retire; reflect then, gentle miss, And gain some spirit in a cause like this.'

Some spirit Lucy gain'd; a steady soul, Defying all persuasion, all control:

In vain reproach, derision, threats were tried;
The constant mind all outward force defied,
By vengeance vainly urged, in vain assail'd
by pride:

Fix'd in her purpose, perfect in her part,
She felt the courage of a wounded heart;
The world receded from her rising view,
When Heaven approach'd as earthly things
withdrew ;

Not strange before, for in the days of love, Joy, hope, and pleasure, she had thoughts above;

Pious when most of worldly prospects fond, When they best pleased her she could look

When his frank air, and his unstudied pace, Are seen with her soft manner, air, and grace, And his plain artless look with her sharp meaning face;

It might some wonder in a stranger move, How these together could have talk'd of love. Behold them now!-see there a tradesman stands,

'Had I,' he thinks, 'been wealthier of the two, Would she have found me so unkind, untrue? Or knows not man when poor, what man when rich will do ?

Yes, yes! I feel that I had faithful proved, And should have soothed and raised her, bless'd and loved.'

But Dinah moves-she had observed before

Stay,'

Her air expresses-'Hark! to what I say:
Ten paces off, poor Rupert on a seat
Has taken refuge from the noon-day heat,
His eyes on her intent, as if to find

Religion, duty urged the maid to speak
In terms of kindness to a man so weak:
But pride forbad, and to return would prove
She felt the shame of his neglected love;
Nor wrapp'd in silence could she pass, afraid

It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it; he so above me : In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.

All's Well that Ends Well, Act 1, Scene 1.

Poor wretches, that depend On greatness' favour, dream as I have done, Wake and find nothing. Cymbeline, Act v, Scene 4.

And since..

Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which I fear a madness held me.

The Tempest, Act v, Scene 1.

A BOROUGH-BAILIFF, who to law was train'd, A wife and sons in decent state maintain'd; He had his way in life's rough ocean steer'd, And many a rock and coast of danger clear'd: He saw where others fail'd, and care had he Others in him should not such failings see; His sons in various busy states were placed, And all began the sweets of gain to taste, Save John, the younger; who, of sprightly parts,

Felt not a love for money-making arts:

In childhood feeble, he, for country air,
Had long resided with a rustic pair;
All round whose room were doleful ballads,
songs,

Of peevish ghosts who came at dark mid

Of lovers' sufferings and of ladies' wrongs;

night,

For breach of promise, guilty men to fright; Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with these,

All that on idle, ardent spirits seize ; Robbers at land and pirates on the main, Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain; Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers, Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice flowers,

And all the hungry mind without a choice devours.

From village-children kept apart by pride, With such enjoyments, and without a guide, Inspired by feelings all such works infused, John snatch'd a pen, and wrote as he pe

rused:

With the like fancy he could make his knight Slay half an host and put the rest to flight;