may, but touch them you cannot. Yet Montanus I speak not
this in pride, but in disdain: not that I scorn thee, but that I
hate love: for I count it as great honour to triumph over fancy
as over fortune. Rest thee content therefore Montanus, cease from
thy loves, and bridle thy looks, quench the sparkles before they
grow to a farther flame; for in loving me, thou shalt but live by
loss, and what thou utterest in words are all written in the
wind. Wert thou (Montanus) as fair as Paris, as hardy as Hector,
as constant as Troilus, as loving as Leander, Phoebe could not
love, because she cannot love at all: and therefore if thou
pursue me with Phoebus, I must flie with Daphne.'"

[39] The Silvius, it may be just necessary to observe, of _As You Like It_.

This book seems to have been very successful, and Lodge began to write
pamphlets vigorously, sometimes taking up the social satire, sometimes the
moral treatise, sometimes (and then most happily) the euphuist romance,
salted with charming poems. His last prose work in this kind (he wrote
other things later) was the pretty and prettily-named _Margarite of
America_, in 1596.

The names of Nash and Harvey are intertwined even more closely than those
of Greene and Lodge; but the conjunction is not a grasp of friendship but a
grip of hatred--a wrestle, not an embrace. The fact of the quarrel has
attracted rather disproportionate attention from the days of Isaac Disraeli
onwards; and its original cause is still extremely obscure and very
unimportant. By some it is connected, causally as well as accidentally,
with the Martin Marprelate business; by some with the fact that Harvey
belonged to the inner Sidneian clique, Nash to the outer ring of
professional journalists and Bohemians. It at any rate produced some
remarkable varieties of the pamphlet, and demonstrated the keen interest
which the world takes in the proceedings of any couple of literary men who
choose to abuse and befoul one another. Harvey, though no mean scholar,
was in mere writing no match for Nash; and his chief answer to the latter,
_Pierce's Supererogation_, is about as rambling, incoherent, and
ineffective a combination of pedantry and insolence as need be wished for.
It has some not uninteresting, though usually very obscure, hints on
literary matters. Besides this, Harvey wrote letters to Spenser with their
well-known criticism and recommendation of classical