In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour
light:
But trust me, gentlemen, I'll prove more true,
Than those that have more cunning.
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant.
And, in dimensions, and the shape of nature,
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet. A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his answer long ago.
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet.
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd
night;
Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet.
Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.
Shaks. Romeo and Juliet.
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Was not this love, indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed,
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Shaks. Twelfth Night.
Reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
Shaks. Twelfth Night.
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask check; she pin'd in thought;
And with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat (like patience on a monument)
Smiling at grief.
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain:
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
Shaks. Love's Labour Lost.
Love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain;
Form'd by the eye, and therefore like the eye;
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms.
Shaks. Love's Labour Lost.
Cupid is a knavish lad,
Thus to make poor females mad.
Shaks. Twelfth Night. Whose violent property forebodes itself,
Methinks I feel this youth's perfections Steal with an invisible and subtle stealth, Well, let it be.
To creep in at mine eyes.
And leads the will to desperate undertakings, As oft as any passion under heaven
That does afflict our natures.
I lov'd Ophelia; forty thousand brothers
Could not with all their quantity of love
Make up my sum.-What wilt thou do for her?
Shaks. Hamlet.
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes,
For out o' doors he went without their helps,
And to the last, bended their light on me.
Shaks. Hamlet.
And, he repulsed, (a short tale to make,)
Fell into a sadness; then into a fast;
Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness: and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves.
If after every tempest came such calmness, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death.
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Which ever as she could with haste despatch, She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse.
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears that heard her flattery; nor mine heart,
That thought her like her seeming; it had been
vicious,
To have mistrusted her.
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I lov'd her that she did pity them;
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd.
I saw Othello's visage in his mind;
And to his honours, and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
I never su'd to friend, nor enemy;
My tongue could never learn sweet soothing words,
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to
speak.
Shaks. Richard III.
Your beauty was the cause of that effect:
Your beauty which did haunt me in my sleep,
Shaks. Othello. To undertake the death of all the world,
So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
Shaks. Richard III.
I know not why
I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason's without reason.
Have I lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best!
You have bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
Shaks. Merchant of Venice.
I would outstare the sternest eyes that look,
Out-brave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
To win thee, lady.
When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words;
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel.
Shaks. Mea. for Mea
When men were fond, I smil'd and wonder'd how.
Shaks. Mea. for Mea.
Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me;
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at nought,
Made wit with musing weak, heart-sick with
thought.
Shaks. Two Gentlemen of Verona.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
I'll weep what's away, and weeping die.
Shaks. Comedy of Errors
The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, would'εt
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well-welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste
Unless I spoke, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to
thee.
Shaks. Comedy of Errors.
There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him: but for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
For what had he to do to chide at me?
Shaks. As you like it.
Myself have often heard him say and swear,-
That this his love was an eternal plant;
Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun.
Shaks. Henry VI. Part III.
This my mean task would be
Shaks. Merchant of Venice. As heavy to me as odious; but
Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'erlook'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half yours,-
And so all yours.
Shaks. Merchant of Venice.
The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father s crabbed.
And he's composed of barshness!
A heart full of coldness, a sweet full of
Bitterness, a pain full of pleasantness,
Which maketh thoughts have eyes, and hearts
ears; bred
Still I'm thy captive, yet my thoughts are free.
To be love's bond-man, is true liberty.
Marston's Insatiate Countess
Equality is no rule in love's gramınar:
By desire, nurs'd by delight, wean'd by jealousy, That sole unhappiness is left to princes
Kill'd by dissembling, buried by
Ingratitude; and this is love.
One and the same, proceedeth first from weighing,
And well examining what is fair and good:
Then what is like in reason, fit in manners;
That breeds good will; and good will desire of
union:
So knowledge first begets benevolence,
Benevolence breeds friendship; friendship love;
And where it starts, or steps aside from this,
It is a mere degenerate appetite,
A lost oblique, deprav'd affection;
And bears no mark, or character of love.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid in the Mill.
Hear me exemplify love's Latin word;
As thus: hearts join'd amore: Take a from thence,
Then more is the perfect moral sense;
Plural in manners, which in thee do shine
Saint-like, immortal, spotless and divine:
Take m away, ore in beauty's name,
Craves an eternal trophy to thy fame.
Middleton's Family Love.
Burns not the day in foolish fantasies;
And when the lamb, bleating, doth bid good night
Unto the closing day, then tears begin
To keep quick tune unto the owl, whose voice
Jonson's New Inn. Shrieks like the bell-man in the lover's ears.
O! I am wounded -not without:
But angry Cupid, bolting from her eyes,
Hath shot himself into me, like a flame;
Where now he flings about his burning heat,
As in a furnace some ambitious fire,
Whose vent is stopt.
Jonson's Volpone.
Bead it, sweet maid, tho' it be done but slightly:
Who can show all his love, doth love but lightly.
Daniel's Sonnets.
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
I pray thee love, love me no more,
Call home the heart you gave me;
I but in vain that saint adore,
That can, but will not save me.
What thing is love, which naught can countervail?
And worldly wealth in worth as far doth fail,
Naught save itself, ev'n such a thing is love.
As lowest earth doth yield to heav'n above.
Divine is love, and scorneth worldly pelf,
And can be bought with nothing but with self.
Sir Walter Raleigh
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
Daniel's Hymen's Triumph. These pleasures might my passions move,
To live with thee and be thy love.
So fading flowers in every field,
To winter floods their treasures yield;
A honey'd tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Sir Walter Raleigh
Love is a god,
Strong, free, unbounded; and as some define,
Fears nothing, pitieth none: such love is mine.
Mason's Mulessses.
Such is the posie love composes;
A stinging nettle mix'd with roses.
Brown's Pastorale
Let us love temp'rately; things violent last not;
And too much dotage rather argues folly,
Than true affection.
Massinger's Duke of Milan.
"Tis nature's second sun,
Causing a spring of virtues where he shines;
And as without the sun, the world's great eye,
All colours, beauties, both of art and nature,
Are given in vain to man; so without love
All beauties bred in women are in vain,
All virtues born in men lie buried;
For love informs them as the sun doth colours:
And as the sun reflecting his warm beams
Against the earth, begets all fruits and flowers;
So love, fair shining in the inward man,
Brings forth in him the honourable fruits
Of valour, wit, virtue, and haughty thoughts,
Brave resolution, and divine discourse.
Chapman's All Fools.
Like Ixion,
I look on Juno, feel my heart turn to cinders
With an invisible fire; and yet, should she
Deign to appear cloth'd in a various cloud,
The majesty of the substance is so sacred
I durst not clasp the shadow. I behold her
With adoration, feast my eye, while all
My other senses starve; and, oft frequenting
The place which she makes happy with her pre-
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Love, like od'rous zephyr's grateful breath, Repays the flower that sweetness which it bor. row'd;
Uninjuring, uninjur'd, lovers move
In their own sphere of happiness confest,
By mutual truth avoiding mutual blame.
With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Milton's Paradise Lost.
So spake our general mother, and with eyes
Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd
On our first father; half her swelling breast
Naked met his under the flowing gold
Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight,
Both of her beauty and submissive charms,
Sinil'd with superior love.
Milton's Paradise I ost.
He on his side
Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces.
Milton's Paradise Lost
While I sit with thee, I seem in heaven,
And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear
Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst
And hunger both, from labour, at the hour
Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill
Though pleasant, but thy words, with grace divine
Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.
Milton's Paradise Lost.
To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou say'st
Leads up to heaven, is both the way and guide.
Milton's Paradise Lost.
Her hand he sciz'd, and to a shady bank,
Thick overhead with verdant roof embower'd,
He led her nothing loath; flowers were the couch,
Pansies, and violets, and asphodel,
And hyacinth, earth's freshest, softest lap.
Milton's Paradise Lost Against his powerful knowledge, not deceiv'd, But fondly overcome with female charm. Milton's Paradise Lost.
In me is no delay; with thee to go,
Is to stay here; with thee here to stay,
Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me
Art all things under heaven, all places thou
Milton's Paradise Los
Love's of a strangely open simple kind,
And thinks none sees it, 'cause itself is blina.
Cowley.
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