text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"""My love! nay rather my damnation thou,""
Said he: ""nor am I bound to keep my vow;
The fiend thy sire has sent thee from below,
Else how couldst thou my secret sorrows know?
Avaunt, old witch, for I renounce thy bed:
The queen may take the forfeit of my head,
Ere any of my race so foul a crone shall wed.""
Both heard, the judge pronounced against the knight;
So was he married in his own despite:
And all day after hid him as an owl,
Not able to sustain a sight so foul.
Perhaps the reader thinks I do him wrong,
To pass the marriage-feast, and nuptial song:
Mirth there was none, the man was à-la-mort,
And little courage had to make his court.
To bed they went, the bridegroom and the bride.
Was never such an ill-paired couple tied!
Restless he tossed, and tumbled to and fro,
And rolled, and wriggled further off, for woe.
The good old wife lay smiling by his side,
And caught him in her quivering arms, and cried,--
""When you my ravished predecessor saw,
You were not then become this man of straw;
Had you been such, you might have scaped the law.
Is this the custom of King Arthur's court?
Are all Round-table Knights of such a sort?
Remember I am she who saved your life,
Your loving, lawful, and complying wife:
Not thus you swore in your unhappy hour,
Nor I for this return employed my power.
In time of need I was your faithful friend;
Nor did I since, nor ever will offend.
Believe me, my loved lord, 'tis much unkind;
What fury has possessed your altered mind?
Thus on my wedding-night--without pretence--
Come turn this way, or tell me my offence.
If not your wife, let reason's rule persuade;
Name but my fault, amends shall soon be made.""
(pp. 810-11, ll. 334-364)",2009-09-14 19:33:34 UTC,"""If not your wife, let reason's rule persuade / Name but my fault, amends shall soon be made.""",2004-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2008-09-24,"",•Appears Twice: Also in Ogle's Canterbury Tales (1741). See also entry under Ogle. ,"Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS",8444,3214
"""The Cause and Spring of motion, from above,
Hung down on earth, the golden chain of Love;
Great was the effect, and high was his intent,
When peace among the jarring seeds he sent:
Fire, flood, and earth, and air, by this were bound,
And love, the common link, the new creation crowned.
The chain still holds; for, though the forms decay,
Eternal matter never wears away:
The same first Mover certain bounds has placed,
How long those perishable forms shall last;
Nor can they last beyond the time assigned
By that all-seeing, and all-making Mind:
Shorten their hours they may; for will is free;
But never pass the appointed destiny.
So men oppressed, when weary of their breath,
Throw off the burden, and suborn their death.
Then, since those forms begin, and have their end,
On some unaltered cause they sure depend:
Parts of the whole are we; but God the whole;
Who gives us life, and animating soul.
For nature cannot from a part derive
That being, which the whole can only give:
He, perfect, stable; but imperfect we,
Subject to change, and different in degree;
Plants, beasts, and man; and, as our organs are,
We, more or less, of his perfection share.
But, by a long descent, the ethereal fire
Corrupts; and forms, the mortal part, expire.
As he withdraws his virtue, so they pass,
And the same matter makes another mass.
This law the Omniscient Power was pleased to give,
That every kind should by succession live;
That individuals die, his will ordains;
The propagated species still remains.
The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees,
Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees;
Three centuries he grows, and three he stays,
Supreme in state, and in three more decays:
So wears the paving pebble in the street,
And towns and towers their fatal periods meet
So rivers, rapid once, now naked lie,
Forsaken of their springs, and leave their channels dry:
So man, at first a drop, dilates with heat,
Then formed, the little heart begins to beat;
Secret he feeds, unknowing in the cell;
At length, for hatching ripe, he breaks the shell,
And struggles into breath, and cries for aid;
Then, helpless, in his mother's lap is laid.
He creeps, he walks, and, issuing into man,
Grudges their life, from whence his own began;
Retchless of laws, affects to rule alone,
Anxious to reign, and restless on the throne;
First vegetive, then feels, and reasons last;
Rich of three souls, and lives all three to waste.
Some thus, but thousands more in flower of age;
For few arrive to run the latter stage.
Sunk in the first, in battle some are slain,
And others whelmed beneath the stormy main.
What makes all this, but Jupiter the king,
At whose command we perish, and we spring?
Then 'tis our best, since thus ordained to die,
To make a virtue of necessity;
Take what he gives, since to rebel is vain;
The bad grows better, which we well sustain;
And could we choose the time, and choose aright,
'Tis best to die, our honour at the height.
When we have done our ancestors no shame,
But served our friends, and well secured our fame;
Then should we wish our happy life to close,
And leave no more for fortune to dispose.
So should we make our death a glad relief
From future shame, from sickness, and from grief;
Enjoying, while we live, the present hour,
And dying in our excellence and flower.
Then round our deathbed every friend should run,
And joy us of our conquest early won;
While the malicious world, with envious tears,
Should grudge our happy end, and wish it theirs.
Since then our Arcite is with honour dead,
Why should we mourn, that he so soon is freed,
Or call untimely, what the gods decreed?
With grief as just, a friend may be deplored,
From a foul prison to free air restored.
Ought he to thank his kinsman or his wife,
Could tears recall him into wretched life?
Their sorrow hurts themselves; on him is lost;
And, worse than both, offends his happy ghost.
What then remains, but, after past annoy,
To take the good vicissitude of joy;
To thank the gracious gods for what they give,
Possess our souls, and while we live, to live?
Ordain we then two sorrows to combine,
And in one point the extremes of grief to join;
That thence resulting joy may be renewed,
As jarring notes in harmony conclude.
Then I propose, that Palamon shall be
In marriage joined with beauteous Emily;
For which already I have gained the assent
Of my free people in full parliament.
Long love to her has borne the faithful knight,
And well deserved, had fortune done him right:
'Tis time to mend her fault, since Emily,
By Arcite's death, from former vows is free;
If you, fair sister, ratify the accord,
And take him for your husband and your lord.
'Tis no dishonour to confer your grace
On one descended from a royal race;
And were he less, yet years of service past,
From grateful souls, exact reward at last.
Pity is heaven's and yours; nor can she find
A throne so soft as in a woman's mind.""
(pp. 631-4, ll. 1024-1134",2009-09-14 19:34:52 UTC,"One cannot find ""A throne so soft as in a woman's mind""",2004-07-07 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","John Dryden. Ed. Keith Walker Oxford and New York: Oxford UP, 1987.","Searching ""throne"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10286,3957
"Curse on the unpardoning prince, whom tears can draw
To no remorse; who rules by lions' law;
And, deaf to prayers, by no submission bowed,
Rends all alike, the penitent and proud!""
At this, with look serene, he raised his head;
Reason resumed her place, and passion fled.
Then thus aloud he spoke: ""The power of Love,
In earth, and seas, and air, and heaven above,
Rules, unresisted, with an awful nod;
By daily miracles declared a god:
He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind,
And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind.
Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon,
Freed from my fetters, and in safety gone,
What hindered either, in their native soil,
At ease to reap the harvest of their toil?
But Love, their lord, did otherwise ordain,
And brought them, in their own despite again,
To suffer death deserved; for well they know,
'Tis in my power, and I their deadly foe.
The proverb holds,--that to be wise, and love,
Is hardly granted to the gods above.
See how the madmen bleed! behold the gains
With which their master, Love, rewards their pains!
For seven long years, on duty every day,
Lo their obedience, and their monarch's pay:
Yet, as in duty bound, they serve him on;
And, ask the fools, they think it wisely done;
Nor ease, nor wealth, nor life itself, regard;
For 'tis their maxim,--Love is love's reward.
This is not all,--the fair, for whom they strove,
Nor knew before, nor could suspect their love,
Nor thought, when she beheld the fight from far,
Her beauty was the occasion of the war.
But sure a general doom on man is past,
And all are fools and lovers, first or last:
This, both by others and myself, I know,
For I have served their sovereign long ago;
Oft have been caught within the winding train
Of female snares, and felt the lover's pain,
And learned how far the god can human hearts constrain.
To this remembrance, and the prayers of those,
Who for the offending warriors interpose,
I give their forfeit lives, on this accord,
To do me homage, as their sovereign lord;
And, as my vassals, to their utmost might,
Assist my person, and assert my right.""
This freely sworn, the knights their grace obtained;
Then thus the king his secret thoughts explained:--
""If wealth, or honour, or a royal race,
Or each, or all, may win a lady's grace,
Then either of you, knights, may well deserve
A princess born; and such is she you serve:
For Emily is sister to the crown,
And but too well to both her beauty known.
But should you combat till you both were dead,
Two lovers cannot share a single bed.
As therefore both are equal in degree,
The lot of both be left to Destiny.
Now hear the award, and happy may it prove
To her, and him who best deserves her love.
Depart from hence in peace, and free as air,
Search the wide world, and where you please repair;
But on the day when this returning sun
To the same point through every sign has run,
Then each of you his hundred knights shall bring,
In royal lists, to fight before the king;
And then the knight, whom Fate, or happy Chance,
Shall with his friends to victory advance,
And grace his arms so far in equal fight,
From out the bars to force his opposite,
Or kill, or make him recreant on the plain,
The prize of valour and of love shall gain;
The vanquished party shall their claim release,
And the long jars conclude in lasting peace.
The charge be mine to adorn the chosen ground,
The theatre of war for champions so renowned;
And take the patron's place of either knight,
With eyes impartial to behold the fight;
And heaven of me so judge, as I shall judge aright.
If both are satisfied with this accord,
Swear, by the laws of knighthood, on my sword.""",2013-08-08 15:41:12 UTC,"""He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind, / And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind.""",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10306,3957
"He paused a while, stood silent in his mood;
For yet his rage was boiling in his blood:
But soon his tender mind the impression felt,
As softest metals are not slow to melt,
And pity soonest runs in gentle minds:
Then reasons with himself; and first he finds
His passion cast a mist before his sense,
And either made, or magnified, the offence.
Offence! of what? to whom? who judged the cause?
The prisoner freed himself by Nature's laws:
Born free, he sought his right; the man he freed
Was perjured, but his love excused the deed:
Thus pondering, he looked under with his eyes,
And saw the women's tears, and heard their cries;
Which moved compassion more: he shook his head,
And softly sighing, to himself he said:--
(p. 598, ll. 328-43)",2009-09-14 19:34:53 UTC,"""As softest metals are not slow to melt, / And pity soonest runs in gentle minds:""",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,Book II,"",,Metal,"John Dryden. Ed. Keith Walker Oxford and New York: Oxford UP, 1987.",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10310,3957
"What not his father's care, nor tutor's art,
Could plant with pains in his unpolished heart,
The best instructor, love, at once inspired,
As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fired;
Love taught him shame, and shame, with love at strife,
Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
His gross material soul at once could find
Somewhat in her excelling all her kind;
Exciting a desire till then unknown,
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.
This made the first impression in his mind,
Above, but just above, the brutal kind.
For beasts can like, but not distinguish too,
Nor their own liking by reflection know;
Nor why they like or this or t'other face,
Or judge of this, or that peculiar grace;
But love in gross, and stupidly admire;
As flies, allured by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beast, advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then separates what he sees;
On several parts a several praise bestows,
The ruby lips, the well-proportioned nose,
The snowy skin, the raven-glossy hair,
The dimpled cheek, the forehead rising fair,
And, even in sleep itself, a smiling air.
From thence his eyes descending viewed the rest,
Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving breast.
Long on the last he dwelt, though every part
A pointed arrow sped to pierce his heart.",2011-06-06 03:04:50 UTC,"""This made the first impression in his mind / Above, but just above, the brutal kind.""",2005-05-12 00:00:00 UTC,Translations from Boccace,"",2011-06-05,Impressions,•INTEREST. Continues differentiating animals from men: animals without judgment. ,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10311,3972
"Maria had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown loose about her, had look'd out of the Window, just as her Father and Dangerfield were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she cast her Eyes upon Dangerfield, and he accidentally look'd up to the Window where she stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of Dangerfield the greater; he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty, as made him doubt the Reality of the Object, or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear Lady, who had so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all the heightning Circumstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native Beauties, free from the Incumbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as Ebony, hung flowing in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link'd in amorous Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not yet freed from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languishing Pleasure in their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest Beauties to those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their Lustre cou'd only be view'd; the lambent Drowsiness that play'd upon her Face, seem'd like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty which it cover'd; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover'd her charming Bosom, which cou'd bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts with an easy Heaving, show'd the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin; their Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou'd not be said to rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which seem'd to melt them down again; some scatter'd jetty Hairs, which hung confus'dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like Venus caught in Vulcan's Net, but 'twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated. This Dangerfield saw, and all this at once, and with Eyes that were adapted by a preparatory Potion; what must then his Condition be? He was stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to Support himself, by leaning on Rinaldo's Arm, who started at his sudden Indisposition. ‘I'm afraid, Sir, (said he) you have received some Wound in the Duel.' ‘Oh! Sir, (said he) I am mortally wounded'; but recollecting himself after a little Pause, ‘now I am better.' Rinaldo wou'd have sent for a Surgeon to have it searched. ‘Your pardon, Sir, (said Dangerfield) my Indisposition proceeds from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like those made by Achilles's Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the Wound.' Rinaldo guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it, out of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in, entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour, a Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate Attendance; he lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his personal Appearance, begg'd Dangerfield's Pardon, intreating him to stay, and command his House till his return, and conducting him to a fine Library, said he might there find Entertainment, if he were addicted to Study; adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his Patience, that he should meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou'd bring home as an Addition to their Company at Dinner. Dangerfield needed none of these Motives to stay, being detained by a secret Inclination to the Place; walking therefore into the Library, Rinaldo went to the Senate. Dangerfield when alone, fell into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew himself in the House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope to see her, which added to his Torment; like Tantalus remov'd the farther from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on the Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were like that of his t'other Mistress, he wou'd endeavour to confine his Passion wholly to that Object.
(pp. 432-4)",2014-07-11 19:22:10 UTC,"""Her Night-gown hanging loose, discover'd her charming Bosom, which cou'd bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts with an easy Heaving, show'd the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin; their Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou'd not be said to rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which seem'd to melt them down again; some scatter'd jetty Hairs, which hung confus'dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like Venus caught in Vulcan's Net, but 'twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated.""",2006-12-18 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2011-06-16,"","INTEREST: crazy passage. Worthwile writing about in terms of mind/body dualism. Here the breast (one of my keywords)--or rather, breasts?--is yoked, in zeugma, to the soul","Reading Felicity Nussbaum's The Limits of the Human (New York and Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2003), p. 29.",10338,3979
"Here dwelt the Man divine whom Samos bore,
But now Self-banish'd from his Native Shore,
Because he hated Tyrants, nor cou'd bear
The Chains which none but servile Souls will wear:
He, tho' from Heav'n remote, to Heav'n cou'd move,
With Strength of Mind, and tread th' Abyss above;
And penetrate with his interiour Light
Those upper Depths, which Nature hid from Sight:
And what he had observ'd, and learnt from thence,
Lov'd in familiar Language to dispence.
(p. 506; cf. p. 818 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:15:12 UTC,"""He, tho' from Heav'n remote, to Heav'n cou'd move, / With Strength of Mind, and tread th' Abyss above; / And penetrate with his interior Light / Those upper Depths, which Nature hid from Sight""",2012-01-11 21:30:29 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Poetry); found again reading,19442,7163
"Then, Death, so call'd, is but old Matter dress'd
In some new Figure, and a vary'd Vest:
Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies;
And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies,
By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossest,
And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast;
Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find,
And actuates those according to their kind;
From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd;
The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost:
And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives,
This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves;
Now call'd by one, now by another Name;
The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same:
So Death, so call'd, can but the Form deface,
Th' immortal Soul flies out in empty space;
To seek her Fortune in some other Place.
(p. 512, cf. p. 821 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:18:09 UTC,"""Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies; / And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies, / By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossess, / And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast; / Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find, / And actuates those according to their kind; / From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd; / The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost.""",2014-05-26 20:18:09 UTC,"","",,Rooms,"",Reading,23860,7163
"Then, Death, so call'd, is but old Matter dress'd
In some new Figure, and a vary'd Vest:
Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies;
And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies,
By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossest,
And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast;
Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find,
And actuates those according to their kind;
From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd;
The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost:
And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives,
This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves;
Now call'd by one, now by another Name;
The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same:
So Death, so call'd, can but the Form deface,
Th' immortal Soul flies out in empty space;
To seek her Fortune in some other Place.
(p. 512, cf. p. 821 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:19:34 UTC,"""And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives, / This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves; / Now call'd by one, now by another Name; / The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same.""",2014-05-26 20:19:34 UTC,"","",,Impressions,USE IN ENTRY?,Reading,23861,7163
"Then let not Piety be put to flight,
To please the tast of Glutton-Appetite;
But suffer inmate Souls secure to dwell,
Lest from their Seats your Parents you expel;
With rabid Hunger feed upon your kind,
Or from a Beast dislodge a Brother's Mind.
(p. 512, cf. p. 822 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:21:03 UTC,"""Then let not Piety be put to flight, / To please the tast of Glutton-Appetite; / But suffer inmate Souls secure to dwell, / Lest from their Seats your Parents you expel; / With rabid Hunger feed upon your kind, / Or from a Beast dislodge a Brother's Mind.""",2014-05-26 20:21:03 UTC,"","",,Inhabitants,"",Reading,23862,7163