Part 87 (1/2)

(41) _Oth.e.l.lo._

Thou young and Rose-lipp'd cherubim.

_Oth.e.l.lo_, act iv, sc. 2 (63).

(42)

Roses, their sharp spines being gone, Not royall in their smells alone But in their hue.

_Two n.o.ble Kinsmen_, Introd. song.

(43) _Emilia._

Of all flowres Methinks a Rose is best.

_Woman._

Why, gentle madam?

_Emilia._

It is the very Embleme of a maide.

For when the west wind courts her gently, How modestly she blows, and paints the Sun With her chaste blushes? When the north winds neere her, Rude and impatient, then, like Chast.i.ty, Shee locks her beauties in her bud againe, And leaves him to base Briers.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 2 (160).

(44) _Wooer._

With cherry lips and cheekes of Damaske Roses.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 2 (95).

(45) _See_ NETTLES, No. 13.

(46)

Roses have thorns and silver fountains mud, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

_Sonnet_ x.x.xv.

(47)

The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour that doth in it live.