Rather let My ardent love, which will not be repressed, Plead with thee for acceptance of my suit; For I do love thee with such passionate love, That life itself, if weighed against that love, Were scarce a feather in the scale.

Rose.

Alas! I'm but a simple shepherd's simple child, Unused to courtly speeches, and they say That in the world thy name and rank are high, And that when such as thou do proffer love And faith to lowly maidens, 'tis a jest,-- And that when they have won our honest love, They cast it from them with unpitying hands, As idly as they would a withered flower.

Werner.

Nay, maiden, let me tell thee of the past, Let me lay bare my heart beneath thy gaze, And thou wilt pity if thou canst not love. I loved in youth with love as fond and deep As ever made the heart of man its slave, But, ere my hopes could ripen to fruition, Death came and made my worshipped one his prize; And though my peace departed when she died, Yet I was proud, and would not bond to sorrow, But with calm brow and eye, and smiling lip, I mingled with the giddy thoughtless world, Seeking from out its varied realms to wring Some recompense for that which I had lost. Wealth, fame, and power, I sought for and obtained, Yet found them only gilded mockeries. The paths of hidden knowledge I essayed, And trod their mazy windings till they led My footsteps--whither I may not disclose,-- But all availed me nothing, still my heart Ached with the dreary void lost love had made, Ached ever till that void was filled by thee! Since first fate led me to your kindly door, Three times the moon with full- orbed light hath shone, Thrice thirty times, with song of merry birds And breath of fragrance, Morn has blest the earth And all its dwellers with her radiant presence; Thrice thirty times, with star-bound brow, dim Night Hath kept her tearful watch above the earth; And every time the full-orb'd moon hath shone, And every time the merry Morn hath smiled, And every time dim Night with star-bound brow Above the earth hath kept her tearfulwatch, My heart has added to its store of love, Its pure, deep, fervent, passionate love for thee! By all my hopes of heaven, my words are true. Dost thou not pity now?

Rose.

Ay, more! My heart, And its full treasury of maiden love, Never before surrendered to another, I pledge to thee, as thine, for evermore!

[Exeunt.

An Aerial Chorus.

Seek the dell and seek the bower, Pluck the bud and pluck the flower, Search for buds of sweetest breath, Search for flowers of brightest hue; Fit to weave the bridal wreath, Of a maid so fair and true. She has bowed the haughty heart, Won the stubborn will from guile, With no aid of other art Than the sweet spell of her smile!

Seek the dell and seek the bower, Pluck the bud and pluck the flower, Search for buds of sweetest breath, Search for flowers of brightest hue; Fit to weave the bridal wreath, Of a maid so fair and true!

[Exeunt.

Note to the Misanthrope

"Then seek we, for the maiden's pillow, Far beyond the Atlantic's billow, Love's apple,--and when we have found it, Draw the magic circles round it."Considering the Mandrake, many fabulous notions were entertained by the ancients; and they never attempted to extract it from the earth, without the previous performance of such ceremonies as they considered efficacious in preventing the numerous accidents, dangers, and diseases, to which they believed the person exposed who was daring enough to undertake its extraction. The usual manner of obtaining it was this:--When found, three times a circle was drawn around it with the point of a naked sword, and a dog was then attached to it and beaten, until by his struggles it was disengaged from the earth.

It was supposed to be useful in producing dreams, philters, charms &c.; and also to possess the faculties of exciting love, and increasing population.

The Emperor Adrian, in a letter to Calexines, writes that he is drinking the juice of the Mandrake to render him amorous: hence it was called Love-apple.

It grows in Italy, Spain, and the Levant.