Which must apply to the prose style of his work, called ‘_Euphues and his England_,’ and is much more like Sir Philip Sidney’s own manner, than the dramatic style of our poet. Besides the passages above quoted, I might refer to the opening speeches of Midas, and again to the admirable contention between Pan and Apollo for the palm of music.—His Alexander and Campaspe is another sufficient answer to the charge. This play is a very pleasing transcript of old manners and sentiment. It is full of sweetness and point, of Attic salt and the honey of Hymettus. The following song given to Apelles, would not disgrace the mouth of the prince of painters: ‘Cupid and my Campaspe play’d At cards for kisses, Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows; His mother’s doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too, then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on’s cheek (but none knows how) With these the chrystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise, O, Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me?’ The conclusion of this drama is as follows. Alexander addressing himself to Apelles, says, ‘Well, enjoy one another: I give her thee frankly, Apelles. Thou shalt see that Alexander maketh but a toy of love, and leadeth affection in fetters: using fancy as a fool to make him sport, or a minstrel to make him merry. It is not the amorous glance of an eye can settle an idle thought in the heart: no, no, it is children’s game, a life for sempsters and scholars; the one, pricking in clouts, have nothing else to think on; the other, picking fancies out of books, have little else to marvel at. Go, Apelles, take with you your Campaspe; Alexander is cloyed with looking on that, which thou wonderest at. _Apelles._ Thanks to your Majesty on bended knee; you have honoured Apelles. _Campaspe._ Thanks with bowed heart; you have blest Campaspe. [_Exeunt._ _Alexander._ Page, go warn Clytus and Parmenio, and the other lords, to be in readiness; let the trumpet sound, strike up the drum, and I will presently into Persia. How now, Hephestion, is Alexander able to resist love as he list? _Hephestion._ The conquering of Thebes was not so honourable as the subduing of these thoughts. _Alexander._ It were a shame Alexander should desire to command the world, if he could not command himself. But come, let us go. And, good Hephestion, when all the world is won, and every country is thine and mine, either find me out another to subdue, or on my word, I will fall in love.’