Save by the apposition of the present. And truths of olden time, though truths they be, And living through all time eternal truths, Yet want the seasoning and applying hand Which Nature sends successive. Else the need Of wisdom should wear out and wisdom cease, Since needless wisdom were not to be wise. For surely if LEOLF. The theme I have to broach Respects a certain marriage, which for my sake, Though it will certes take you unprepared, And auspicate with smiles. WULFSTAN. A marriage say you? My good Lord, I rejoice in your resolve. G If ears, or eyes, or brains, or body fail, And not to see the while new bodies, brains, LEOLF. I give you my consent That a wise marriage is the crowning act Which queenly Wisdom's sovereignty secures ; The season comes with you When love that 's innocent may well be wise. Is innocent love at all times and with all. Love changes with the changing life of man : In its first youth, sufficient to itself, Heedless of all beside, it reigns alone, Revels or storms, and spends itself in passion. In middle-age,—a garden through whose soil Perhaps on alien passions; still it grows And lacks not force nor freshness: but this age Encumbers not the active purposes, Nor drains their source; but proffers with free grace A quenching of his thirst, a sweet repose Alternate and preparative, in groves Where loving much the flower that loves the shade, And loving much the shade that that flower loves, He yet is unbewildered, unenslaved, Thence starting light and pleasantly let go When serious service calls. LEOLF. 'Tis all most true. But of these tidings you misjudge the tenour. 'Tis not of mine, but of your daughter's marriage, I am to speak. WULFSTAN. My daughter, my good Lord! Must she be married? LEOLF. 'Twas her will to be; And upon Wednesday she gave it way. WULFSTAN. Was married upon Wednesday? It is strange ! She was a child but yesterday, and now A woman and a wife! O' Wednesday— And unto whom, I pray you, was she married? LEOLF. To one whose comeliness in woman's eye To Ernway. WULFSTAN. You astonish me, my Lord. It is most strange; indeed 'tis singular! She never mentioned it to me. LEOLF. In that She missed of what was filially owing To a kind parent, for which lapse through me She craves forgiveness. She is my daughter, but no more my child; And therein is a loss to parents' hearts Exceeding great. Enter an OFFICER. OFFICER. My Lord, there 's news from Court ; They seek you at the Castle, whither is come LEOLF. Of what purport, did he say? Does all go well? OFFICER. To take his word, my Lord, They speak of nothing but prosperity. My Lord Archbishop, with a loyal will, Abets the coronation, in whose wake |