BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Kiss you at first, my lord! ’tis no fair fashion;
Our lips are like rose-buds: blown with men’s breaths,
They lose both sap and savor.
Mad Lover.
Guiomar. You sent this letter?
Rutilio. My boldness makes me blush now.
Guiomar. I’ll wipe off that;
And with this kiss I take you for my husband.
Your wooing’s done, sir; I believe you love me,
And that’s the wealth I look for now.
Custom of the Country.
My charity shall go along with thee,
Though my embraces must be far from thee.
I should have killed thee, but this sweet repentance
Locks up my vengeance; for which thus I kiss thee,
The last kiss we must take! And would to Heaven
The holy priest that gave our hands together
Had given us equal virtues.
Maid’s Tragedy.
Duke. Didst thou ne’er wish, Olympia,
It might be thus?
Olympia. A thousand times.
Duke. Here, take him!
Nay, do not blush; I do not jest; kiss sweetly.
Boy, you kiss faintly, boy. Heaven give ye comfort!
Teach him,—he’ll quickly learn. There’s two hearts eased now.
Loyal Subject.
Eros. While you were honest
I loved you too.
Septimius. Honest? Come, pr’ythee kiss me.
Eros. I kiss no knaves, no murderers, no beasts,
No base betrayers of those men that fed ’em;
I hate their looks; and, though I may be wanton,
I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase.
False One.
Cleopatra. [To Cæsar.] I stood slighted,
Forgotten and contemned; my soft embraces,
And those sweet kisses you called Elysium,
As letters writ in sand, no more remembered.
False One.
Sceva. [To Cæsar.] Whilst you are secure here,
And offer hecatombs of lazy kisses
To the lewd god of love and cowardice,
And most lasciviously die in delights,
You are begirt with the fierce Alexandrians.
False One.
Come, friends, and kill me.
Cæsar, be kind, and send a thousand swords;
The more the greater is my fall. Why stay ye?
Come, and I’ll kiss your weapons.
Valentinian.
Oh, my heart!
How have I longed to meet you, how to kiss
Those lily hands, how to receive the bliss
That charming tongue gives to the happy ear
Of him that drinks your language!
Faithful Shepherdess.
I am not bashful, virgin; I can please
At first encounter, hug thee in mine arm,
And give thee many kisses, soft and warm
As those the sun prints on the smiling cheek
Of plums or mellow peaches.
Faithful Shepherdess.