The hostess-ship o' the day. - [To Cam.] You 're welcome, sir. — Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. For you there 's rosemary and Reverend sirs, rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long: Grace and remembrance be to you both, Pol. A fair one are you, - well Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 75 80 Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature. Pol. Say there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean: so, over that art 90 Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art 95 Which does mend nature, change it rather; but Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, And do not call them bastards. I'll not put 100 Per. The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; No more than were I painted I would wish This youth should say 'twere well, and only there fore Desire to breed by me. Here 's flowers for you: Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; 105 The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun flock, And only live by gazing. Per. Out, alas! You 'ld be so lean, that blasts of January 110 Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall That come before the swallow dares, and take 115 |