If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
My bluest veins to kiss; a hand, that kings
Have lipped, and trembled kissing.
Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 5.
We have kissed away
Kingdoms and provinces.
Antony and Cleopatra, iii. 8.
Antony. Fare thee well, dame, whate’er becomes of me:
This is a soldier’s kiss; rebukable,
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
On more mechanic compliment.
Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 4.
Antony. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.
Cleopatra. And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 13.
Cleopatra. Come, then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
...
If she first meet the curlèd Antony,
He’ll make demand of her; and spend that kiss,
Which is my heaven to have.
Antony and Cleopatra, v. 2.
Imogene. Then waved his handkerchief?
Pisanio. And kissed it, madam.
Imogene. Senseless linen! happier therein than I!
Ere I could
Give him that parting kiss, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.
Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,
How dearly they do’t!—’tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus.
Imogene. Last night ’twas on mine arm; I kissed it;
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.
Oh, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aspen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touched them for his life.
Thou know’st this,
’Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
A city on whom plenty held full hand,
Whose towers bore heads so high, they kissed the clouds.
Gloster. Oh, let me kiss that hand!
Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
Cordelia. Oh, my dear father! Restoration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows.
And in this state she
[24] gallops night by night
...
O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream;
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
[25]
Romeo. If I profane with my unworthy hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,—
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Juliet. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.
Romeo. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Juliet. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Romeo. Oh, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Juliet. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.
Romeo. Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.
Juliet. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Romeo. Sin from my lips? Oh, trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again.
Juliet. You kiss by the book.
Oh that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die! like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.
They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand,
And steal immortal blessings from her lips;
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush as thinking their own kisses sin.
Romeo and Juliet, iii. 3.
Romeo. Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss,
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
Juliet. Drink all, and leave no friendly drop,
To help me after?—I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
Alas, poor Yorick!... Here hung those lips that I
have kissed I know not how oft.
Hamlet, v. 1.
Iago. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy.
Emilia. This was her first remembrance
[27] from the Moor.
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Wooed me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
That she reserves it evermore about her,
To kiss, and talk to.
Othello. I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips;
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know it, and he’s not robbed at all.
Iago. One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say, “Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves!”
And then, sir, would he gripe, and wring my hand,
Cry, “Oh, sweet creature!” and then kiss me hard,
As if he plucked up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips.
Othello. I kissed thee ere I killed thee,—no way but this,
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
BEN JONSON.
Their lips were sealed with kisses, and the voice,
Drowned in a flood of joy at their arrival,
Had lost her motion, state, and faculty.
Every Man in his Humor, iii. 3.
Oh, sweet Fastidious! Oh, fine courtier! How comely
he bows him in his courtesy! how full he hits a woman
between the lips when he kisses!
Every Man out of his Humor, iv. 1.
Hedon. You know I call madam Philautia my Honor;
and she calls me her Ambition. Now, when I meet her
in the presence anon, I will come to her, and say, Sweet
Honor, I have hitherto contented my sense with the lilies of
your hand, but now I will taste the roses of your lip; and,
withal, kiss her: to which she cannot but blushingly
answer, Nay, now you are too ambitious. And then do I
reply: I cannot be too Ambitious of Honor, sweet lady.
Will’t not be good? ha? ha?
Anaides. Oh, assure your soul.
Hedon. By heaven, I think ’twill be excellent; and a
very politic achievement of a kiss.
Cynthia’s Revels, ii. 1.
He that had the grace to print a kiss on those lips should
taste wine and rose-leaves. Oh, she kisses as close as a
cockle.
Cynthia’s Revels, v. 2.
Your city ladies, you shall have them sit in every shop,
like the muses, offering you the Castalian dews and the
Thespian liquors to as many as have but the sweet grace
and audacity to—sip of their lips.
Poetaster, iii. 1.
A beauty ripe as harvest,
Whose skin is whiter than a swan all over,
Than silver, snow, or lilies! A soft lip,
Would tempt you to eternity of kissing.
Praise them, flatter them, you shall never want eloquence
or trust: even the chastest delight to feel themselves
that way rubbed. With praises you must mix kisses
too; if they take them, they’ll take more,—though they
strive, they would be overcome.
Silent Woman, iv. 1.
Face. This is the noble knight,
I told your ladyship——
Mammon. Madam, with your pardon,
I kiss your vesture.
Dol. Sir, I were uncivil
If I would suffer that; my lip to you, sir.
Subtle. I cry this lady mercy; she should first
Have been saluted. [Kisses her.] I do call you lady,
Because you are to be one ere ’t be long,
My soft and buxom widow.
Kastril. Is she, i’ faith?
Sub. Yes, or my art is an egregious liar.
Sub. By inspection on her forehead
And subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted
Often, to make a judgment.
Beaufort. Then I have read somewhere that man and woman
Were, in the first creation, both one piece,
And, being cleft asunder, ever since
Love was an appetite to be rejoined,
As for example—[Kisses Lætitia.
Prudence. The hour is come; your kiss.
Lady F. My servant’s song, first.
Prudence. I say the kiss, first; and I so enjoined it.
At your own peril, do, make the contempt.
Lady F. Well, sir, you must be paid, and legally.
[Kisses Lovel.
Prudence. Nay, nothing, sir, beyond.
Lovel. One more—I except.
This was but half a kiss, and I would change it.
Prudence. The court’s dissolved, removed, and the play ended.
No sound or air of love more; I decree it.
Marian. You are a wanton.
Robin Hood. One, I do confess,
I want-ed till you came; but now I have you
I’ll grow to your embraces till two souls,
Distillèd into kisses through our lips,
Do make one spirit of love.
She that will but now discover
Where the wingèd wag doth hover
Shall to-night receive a kiss,
How or where herself would wish;
But who brings him to his mother
Shall have that kiss and another.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
LILLY.
Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother’s doves, and team of sparrows,—
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on’s cheek (but none knows how),
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes:
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
MARLOWE.
Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topmost towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!
MARSTON.
She comes like—oh, no simile
Is precious, choice, or elegant enough
To illustrate her descent; leap, heart, she comes,—
She comes! smile, heaven, and, softest southern wind,
Kiss her cheek gently with perfumèd breath.
She comes; creation’s purity, admired,
Adored, amazing rarity,—she comes!
...
Mount, blood, soul, to my lips, taste Hebe’s cup;
Stand firm on deck, when beauty’s close fight’s up.
If thou knew’st my happiness,
Thou wouldst even grate away thy soul to dust
In envy of my sweet beatitude:
I cannot sleep for kisses; I cannot rest
For ladies’ letters that importune me
With such unusèd vehemence of love,
Straight to solicit them, that—
MASSINGER.
May I taste
The nectar of her lip? I do not give it
The praise it merits: antiquity is too poor
To help me with a simile to express her:
Let me drink often from this living spring,
To nourish new invention.
Sforza. Can any act, though ne’er so loose, that may
Invite or heighten appetite, appear
Immodest or uncomely? Do not move me;
My passions to you are in extremes,
And know no bounds:—come, kiss me.
Sforza. By all the joys of love, she does salute me
As if I were her grandfather! What witch,
With cursèd spells, hath quenched the amorous heat
That lived upon these lips? Tell me, Marcelia,
And truly tell me, is’t a fault of mine
That hath begot this coldness?
Francisco. [Preserving the dead body of Marcelia.]
Your ladyship looks pale;
But I, your doctor, have a ceruse for you.
See, my Eugenia, how many faces
That are adored in court, borrow these helps,
[Paints the cheeks.
And pass for excellence, when the better part
Of them are like to this. Your mouth smells sour, too,
But here is that shall take away the scent,
A precious antidote old ladies use
When they would kiss, knowing their gums are rotten.
[Paints the lips.
These hands, too, that disdained to take a touch
From any lip whose owner writ not lord,
Are now but as the coarsest earth.
Lovell. If then you may be won to make me happy,
But join your lips to mine, and that shall be
A solemn contract.
Lady Allworthy. I were blind to my own good
Should I refuse it [kisses him]; yet, my lord, receive me
As such a one, the study of whose whole life
Shall know no other object but to please you.
New Way to Pay Old Debts.