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On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
The gallantries of Miranda and Ferdinand, however beautiful, come not up to the courtship of our first parents in Paradise. For, in the subsequent passao-es, Ferdinand is too quaint, and Miranda, for so sequestered a character, somewhat too forward.;
Fer. I am, in my condition, A prince, Miranda ; I do think, a king; (I would, not so !) and would no more endure This wooden slavery, than I would suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak; The very instant that I saw you, did My heart fly to your service, there resides To make my slave to it, and for your fake, Am I this patient log-man.
Mira. Do you love me?
Per. O heav'n, O earth, bear witness to this found■, And crown what I profess with kind event, If I speak true; if hollowly, invert What best is boded me, to mischief! I, Beyond all limit of what else i'th? world, Do love, prize, honour you.
Mjra. I amasool,
To To weep at what I'm glad os.
Fer. Wherefore weep you?
Mir A. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer, What I desire to give; and much less take, What I shall die to want: but this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shews. Hence balhful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me: If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow, You may deny me j but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Fer. My mistress, dearest, And I thus humble ever.
Mir A. My husband, then r
Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing,
Mir A. And mine, with my heart in't; and now, farewel, Till half an hour hence.
Fer. A thousand, thousand.
The fourteen words of
And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.
Imply more, and bring the meaning nearer to the heart. The blush of shame
was not indeed, yet known; and the only
Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame
Hence then, it is apparent, that the figleaf was not introduced until imagination became corrupt, and a train of vicious passions seized upon the heart. If such the origin of dress, if such the history of external decoration, how few reasons have we to plume ourselves upon our finery!
AND AIL THE DAYS OF METHUSELAH WERE J»tNE HVNDRED SIXTY AND NINE YEARS.
/~|~s O what a span is existence reduced. in •*■ the comparison ! Threescore and ten, with nine hundred and sixty-nine! What a difference! Yet the scheme of ambition is vast, as ever; and, perhaps, it is for the best it should be so. I fear, posterity is more indebced to our pride than any better principle: we build houses, lay out gardens, and pursue the most costly and laborious projects very frequently, when we have measured three fourths of our time, while the foot totters, and the hand shakes. Yet, let us make an honest, and candid confession. Is all this toil and expence to C accom