When you fix your mind on the scenes before you, when the eye shall not wander to, nor the heart flutter at the surrounding objects of the spectacle, you will return home instructed and improved. The great utilities you may reap from well acted tragedy are the exciting your compassion to real sufferings, the suppressing of your vanity in prosperity, and the inspiring you with heroic patience in adversity. In comedy you will receive continual correction, delicately applied to your errors and foibles; be impartial in the application, divide it humbly with your acquaintance and friends, and even with your enemies. * * * * * _The general lover--An Ovidian rhapsody._ JAQUES. The worst fault you have is to be in love. ORLANDO. It is a fault I would not change for your best virtue. Though I may be inconstant to _Elizabeth, Betty, and Bess_, I am never inconstant to love. But I will not defend myself. No, if it would do any good to confess, I own my fault, and will say that I hate myself for it; but I must add, that though I wish it, I cannot be otherwise than what I hate. I am borne along like a vessel in a rapid current, impelled by wind and tide--I know not what form delights me most, therefore the causes are endless, why I can never cease to love. If modest the nymph, with her eyes in her lap, Her blushing's enough, I am caught in the trap. If she is high spirited I am won, because she is not rustic.--Is she austere,--I think her willing, but an admirable dissembler. If learned, than riches I prize it above, If not, sweet simplicity, O, how I love! Is there one who prefers my writings to those of the salacious warbler, the wanton lacivious little Moore? She to whom I am pleasing is ever pleasing to me. If she hates both me and my works, I long to give her reason to think differently of both. This fair one walks with grace, her graces captivate me; that sings, and her voice flows like honey from her lips; I pant to kiss the hive from which such honey flows. Her brilliant fingers sweep the chords: Who can but love such well-instructed fingers?--To love in every shape I bend my knees. Though her figure heroic would fill the whole bed, For me there'd be room where I'd lay my fond head. If she is little and short I am equally glad, for then I can never have _too much_ of her. Light hair how lovely!--Brown, I think it auburn--Black, how beautiful when hanging in ringlets on her snowy neck! Is it red--what so red as gold?--Youth warms my heart and later age I love; this pleases by its form, that by its conduct.--Is she a slut--how saving!--Is she delicate--how delightful!--Is she my wife--I _must_ love her--Is she my friend's--how can I help it!--The fatter, the warmer; the thinner, she is less subject, _perhaps_, to the frailty of the _flesh_.--Is she lame--how domestic!--Is she deaf--'tis well.--Is she blind--'tis better.--Is she dumb--O, 'tis too much!