Plays: Being: An unhistorical pastoral: A romantic farce: Bruce, a chronicle play: Smith, a tragic farce: and Scaramouch in Naxos, a pantomime.
General
Plays: Being: An unhistorical pastoral: A romantic farce: Bruce, a chronicle play: Smith, a tragic farce: and Scaramouch in Naxos, a pantomime.
Drama
Clown. Fair warrior, how speed you in a fight,
If all fordone after the second waltz?
Amazon. My soul is tired of folly, not my limbs.
Good clown, of your light wit enlighten me
Concerning somewhat cloudy.
Clown. Certainly.
My light wit if it may dispel your night,
Will flaunt as proudly as the sun. Behold!
[Unmasks.
Amazon. You are too hot. I would not, sir, be scorched:
Becloud your beams again. Your eyes burn bright--
Oh!--like the round holes carved in turnip-lamps,
Lit up by boys on witching hallow-e'ens
To fright their sisters and the serving-maids:
I am afraid: clap to the shutters, pray.
[Clown masks.
Now, like the hollowed orbs of the baboon
Your eyes gleam furtively--like rush-lights dim
That steal into the night through secret chinks
Of steep-thatched huts in lonely highland glens.
Clown. I might enlarge upon the periods
On either side your nose, that put an end
By saucy looks to any parleying
Save that of sharp-edged words: but haste me now
To know the darkness which I must illume.
Amazon. What wight is he, as gentle Sidney dressed,
Who casts his wit about like pearls--I mean
Like pearl-less oysters, which the crowd accept,
Unskilled or unconcerned, as worth mirth's price,
While you and I perceive them what they are,
Sad fish indeed, old, stale, unsavoury?
Clown. I've marked him well, but know not who he is:
He seems to be acquaint with comic writers.
Know you the nymph that danced with him but now--
She, with the rosy garland--only hue
About her white robe save her golden hair--
With frank blue eyes that always seem to ring
With peals of fairy laughter, summer's queen?
Enter a gentleman dressed as a Corsair, and a lady dressed as a Contadina;
both masked.
Amazon. Hush!
Clown. Ah! I noted these in the last waltz.
Amazon. She's my full cousin; he, a highland one.
I think they be in love.
Enter a gentleman dressed as an Elizabethan Courtier, and a lady dressed
to symbolise Summer. After them runs in hurriedly a lady dressed as a
Scotch Peasant-girl. They are masked. The Courtier shuts the door and puts
his back against it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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