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56 FRANCIS BACON'S CRYPTIC RHYMES
My soul is in the sky :
Tongue, lose thy light ;
Moone, take thy flight :
[Evit Moonshine.']
Now die, die, die, die, die.
\_Dies.~\
These are all pure rhymes, "pap-hop "being chosen
on purpose on account of its extravagance, enhanced
by the words being wedded to rhyme.
But not only to express the coarse jest of the artisan
is the it
rhyme employed,
is also used in the most
dashing conversational tone. We need but recall
the scene in Love's Labours Lost (ii. 2)
in which
Berowne
" "
(spelt Biron in modern editions) speaks to
his beloved Rosaline of his love-sick heart. We hear
the witty elegant courtier bartering word and rhyme
with the maid of honour :
Alack, let it blood.
ROSALINE.
BEROWNE.
Would that do good ?
ROSALINE.
My physic says ay.
BEROWNE.
Will you prick't with your eye ?
ROSALINE.
No point, with my knife.
BEROWNE.
Now, God save thy life.
ROSALINE.
And yours from long living
!
I
BEROWNE.
cannot stay thanksgiving.