Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,

Which Heay'n's dew quench! Therefore, I say again,

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul

Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,

I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.

Wol. Madam, you do me wrong:

I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
For you, or any: how far I have proceeded,
Or how far farther shall, is warranted

By a commission from the consistory,

Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me,
That I have blown this coal: I do deny it:

The king is present: if it be known to him,
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much
As you have done my truth.

In him

It lies, to cure me: and the cure is, to

Remove these thoughts from you: the which before
His highness shall speak in, I do beseech

You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking,
And to say so no more.

Queen. My lord, my lord,

I am a simple woman, much too weak

To oppose your cunning. You're meek, and humble mouth'd; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,

With meekness and humility: but your heart

Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride;

That again

I do refuse you for my judge; and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,

To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him.

[She courtesies to the King, and offers to depart.

Cam. The queen is obstinate,

Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be tried by it; "tis not well.

She's going away.

King. Call her again.

Clerk. Katharine, queen of England, come into the court. Guild. Madam, you are call'd back.

Queen. What need you note it? 'Pray you, keep your

way;

When you are call'd, return :- Now the Lord help, They vex me past my patience!—'Pray you, pass on :I will not tarry; no, nor ever more,

Upon this business, my appearance make

In any of their courts.

SHAKESPEAR.

JAFFIER AND BELVIDERA.

Bel. [Without.] Lead me, lead me, my virgins, To that kind voice.

Enter Belvidera.

My lord, my love, my refuge!

Happy my eyes, when they behold thy face!
My heavy heart will leave it's doleful beating
At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys.
Oh, smile! as when our loves were in their spring,
And cheer my fainting soul !

Jaff As when our loves

Were in their spring! Has then my fortune chang'd thee?
Art thou not, Belvidera, still the same,

Kind, good, and tender, as my arms first found thee?
If thou art alter'd, where shall I have harbour?
Where ease my loaded heart? Oh! where complain ?
Bel. Does this appear like change, or love decaying,
When thus I throw myself into thy bosom,

With all the resolution of strong truth!

I joy more in thee,

Than did thy mother, when she hugg'd thee first,
And bless'd the gods for all her travail past.

Jaff. Can there in woman be such glorious faith?
Sure all ill stories of thy sex are false !

O, woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee
To temper man: we had been brutes without you!
Angels are painted fair, to look like you:

There's in you all that we believe of Heav'n;
Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,

Eternal joy, and everlasting love !

Bel. If love be treasure, we'll be wondrous rich;
O! lead me to sorne desert, wide and wild,
Barren as our misfortunes, where my soul
May have it's vent, where I may tell aloud
To the high Heav'ns, and ev'ry list'ning planet,
With what a boundless stock my bosom's fraught.
Jaff. Oh, Belvidera! doubly I'm a beggar;
Undone by fortune, and in debt to thee.
Want, worldly want, that hungry, meagre fiend,
Is at my heels, and chases me in view..

Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs,
Fram'd for the tender offices of love,

Endure the bitter gripes of smarting poverty?
When banish'd by our miseries abroad
(As suddenly we shall be), to seek out,

In some far climate, where our names are strangers,
For charitable succour; wilt thou then,

When in a bed of straw we shrink together,

And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads;
Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then

Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love?

Bel. Oh! I will love thee, ev'n in madness love thee! Though my distracted senses should forsake me,

I'd find some intervals, when my poor heart

Should 'suage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Though the bare earth be all our resting place,
It's roots our food, some cliff our habitation,
I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head;

And, as thou sighing liest, and swell'd with sorrow,
Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love

Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest;

Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning. Jaff. Hear this, you Heav'ns, and wonder how you made her!

Reign, reign, ye monarchs, that divide the world,
Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know
Tranquillity and happiness like mine;

Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall,
And rise again, to lift you in your pride;
They wait but for a storm, and then devour you :
I, in my private bark already wreck'd,

Like a poor merchant, driv'n to unknown land,
That had, by chance, pack'd up his choicest treasure,
In one dear casket, and sav'd only that;
Since I must wander farther on the shore,
Thus hug my little, but my precious store,
Resolv❜d to scorn, and trust my fate no more.

BOOK VI.

EPISTLES.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

September 21, 1779.

AMICO mio, be pleased to buy me a glazier's diamond pencil. I have glazed the two frames, designed to receive my pine plants. But I cannot mend the kitchen windows till, by the help of that implement, I can reduce the glass to it's proper dimensions. If I were a plumber, I should be a complete glazier, and possibly the happy time may come, when I shall be seen trudging away to the neighbouring towns with a shelf of glass hanging at my back. If government should impose another tax upon that commodity, I hardly know a business, in which a gentleman might more succesfully employ himself. A Chinese, of ten times my fortune, would avail himself of such an opportunity without scruple; and why should not I, who want money as much as any mandarin in China? Rousseau would have been charmed to have seen me so occupied, and would have exclaimed, with rapture," that he had found the Emilius, who (he supposed) had subsisted only in his own idea." I would recommend it to you to follow my example. You will presently qualify yourself for the task, and may not only amuse yourself at home, but may even exercise your skill in mending the church windows ; which, as it would save money to the parish, would conduce, together with your other ministerial accomplishments, to make you extremely popular in the place.