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THAT WOMEN ARE BUT MEN'S SHADOWS.15
Follow a shadow, it still flies you;
At morn and even shades are longest;
VIII. TO SICKNESS.
Why, disease, dost thou molest
15 The origin of this song is thus related by Drummond: "Pembrok and his Lady discoursing, the Earl said, "The woemen were men's shadowes,' and she maintained them. Both appealing to Jonson, he affirmed it true; for which my Lady gave a pennance to prove it in verse; hence his epigrame."
Live not we, as all thy stalls,
Or, if needs thy lust will taste
What should, yet, thy palate please?
Daintiness, and softer ease,
Sleeked limbs, and finest blood?
That distil their husbands' land
In decoctions; and are manned
Lying for the spirit of amber;
More than citizens dare lend
Every stew in town to know;
Dare entail their loves on any,
And will, long ere thou shouldst starve,
Move it, as their humblest suit,
None but them, and leave the rest.
IX. TO CELIA.16
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
It could not withered be.
16 Cumberland has traced the leading ideas of this familiar song to some scattered passages in the love-letters of Philostratus. But in making these stray thoughts his own, Jonson has transmuted them into gold; showing, at the same time, consummate art by connecting in an obvious sequence images which are entirely disconnected in the original. - B.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me:
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
X. 1 17
And must I sing? 18 what subject shall I choose?
17 This piece, which is called by the editors Præludium, has no title in the folio.
18 Gifford conjectures that this sportive Præludium, and the admirable Epode to which it forms an introduction, must have been among the earliest of Jonson's works, as he found them prefixed to a volume called Love's Martyr, or Rosalin's Complaint, published in 1601. They are immediately succeeded in the same volume by the following pieces, "both," says Gifford, 'as it would seem, by one author, though his name does not appear to them." The evidence, internal and external, is against this presumption. The pieces are not in the manner of Jonson, who never wrote in this flippant style; and it is only reasonable to suppose that if they were his, he would have included them in this collection, together with the Præludium and the Epode, unless he was unwilling to acknowledge them. Upon these points the reader will judge for himself. B.
THE PHOENIX ANALYZED.
Now, after all, let no man
If a bird so amiable
Do turn into a woman.
Or, by our Turtle's augure,
That nature's fairest creature
But a bare type and figure.
Hercules? alas, his bones are yet sore
Phoebus. No, tend thy cart still. Envious day
Nor will I beg of thee, Lord of the vine,
Splendor! O more than mortal,
Her wit as quick and sprightful
Judgment, adorned with learning,
Her breath for sweet exceeding
The phoenix' place of breeding,
But mixed with sound, transcending
All nature of commending.
Alas then whither wade I
In thought to praise this lady,
Retire, and say her graces
Nor takes she pride to know them.