Page 1312 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

There is a best, and reason has no manners
To say it is not you. I was acquainted
Once with a time when I enjoyed a playfellow. [50]
You were at wars when she the grave enriched

Who made too proud the bed; took leave o’th’moon −
Which then looked pale at parting − when our count
Was each eleven.

HIPPOLYTA
’Twas Flavina.

EMILIA
Yes.

You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love; [55]
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned,
More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs
The one of th’other may be said to water

Their intertangled roots of love. But I
And she I sigh and spoke of were things innocent, [60]
Loved for we did, and like the elements
That know not what, nor why, yet do effect

Rare issues by their operance, our souls
Did so to one another. What she liked
Was then of me approved, what not, condemned, [65]
No more arraignment; the flower that I would pluck

And put between my breasts − O, then but beginning
To swell about the blossom − she would long
Till she had such another, and commit it
To the like innocent cradle, where phoenix-like [70]

They died in perfume; on my head no toy
But was her pattern; her affections − pretty,
Though happily her careless wear − I followed
For my most serious decking; had mine ear

Stolen some new air, or at adventure hummed one [75]
From musical coinage, why, it was a note
Whereon her spirits would sojourn − rather dwell on −
And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal −

Which every innocent wots well comes in