Page 1956 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 1956
HOST
Ay; but, peace! Let’s hear ’em.
Song
Who is Silvia? What is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she; [40]
The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admirèd be.
Is she kind as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness.
Love doth to her eyes repair, [45]
To help him of his blindness;
And, being helped, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing [50]
Upon the dull earth dwelling.
To her let us garlands bring.
HOST
How now? Are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? The
music likes you not.
JULIA
You mistake; the musician likes me not. [55]
HOST
Why, my pretty youth?
JULIA
He plays false, father.
HOST
How? Out of tune on the strings?
JULIA
Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. [60]
