Faq. Ay, Sir, from one Monfieur Biron, to one of the ftrange Queen's Ladies. Hol. I will overglance the fuperfcript. To the fnorw white hand of the most beauteous lady Rofaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing, to the person written unto, Your Ladyship's in all defir'd employment, Biron, This Biron is one of the votaries with the King; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a fequent of the ftranger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath mifcarry'd. Trip and go, my fweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; ftay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty adieu. : Jag. Good Coftard, go with me. Sir, God fave your life. Coft. Have with thee, my girl. [Exe. Coft, and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously and as a certain father faith Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear the colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; did they please you, Sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if (being repaft) it fhall pleafe you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforefaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where will I prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your fociety. Nath. And thank you too: for fociety (faith the text) is the happiness of life. Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir, I do invite you too; [To Dull.] you shall not fay me, nay: Pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. their Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone. Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am courfing myfelf. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a pitch; pitch, that defiles; defile! a foul word: well, fet thee down, forrow; for fo they fay the fool faid, and fo fay I, and I the fool. Well prov'd wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills fheep, it kills me, I a fheep. Well prov'd again on my fide. I will not love; if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not love; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to rhime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhime, and here my melancholy. Well, fhe hath one o' my fonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool fent it, and the Lady hath it: fweet clown, fweeter fool, fweetest Lady! by the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan! [be ftands afide. King. Ay me! Enter the King. Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, fweet Cupid; thou haft thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, fecrets. King. [reads.] So fweet a kifs the golden fun gives not Through the tranfparent bofom of the deep, And they thy glory through my grief will shew; But do not love thyfelf, then thou wilt keep My tears for glaffes, and ftill make me weep. O Queen of Queens, how far doft thou excel! No thought can think, no tongue of mortal tell. How How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, fhade folly. Who is he comes here? [The King steps afide. Enter Longaville. What! Longaville! and reading! liften, ear. Biron. Now in thy likeness one more fool appears. Long. Ay me! I am forfworn. Biron. Why, he comes in like a Perjure, wearing papers. (26) King. In love, I hope; fweet fellowship in fhame. Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name. Thou mak'ft the triumviry, the three-corner-cap of fociety, The fhape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up fimplicity. Long. I fear, thefe ftubborn lines lack power to move: O fweet Maria, Emprefs of my love, Thefe numbers will I tear, and write in profe. Biron. O, rhimes are guards on wanton "Cupid's hofe : Disfigure not his flop. (27) Long (26) Why, he comes in like a perjur'd, qaring papers.] All the editions, that I have seen, give us a nonfenfical adjective here, ex opt the first old Folio, and a Quarto impreffion of this play pablith'i in 1623 in both which it is rightly, as I have regulated the text, a perjure. Son the troublefame reign of K. Jekn, in two parts. But now black-fpotted perjure as he is. In like manner the French make a fubftantive of this word, ar farjure: i. e. a forfworn wretch. (27) Ob, rhimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hofe ; Disfigure rot bis fhop.] All the editions happen to concur in this error; but what agreement in fenfe is there betwixt Cupid's bofe and his jhop? or, what relation can thofe two terms have to one another? or, what, indeed, can be understood by Cupid's shop? It must undoubtedly be corrected, as I have reform'd the text. Ships are large and wide-kneed breeches, the garb in fashion in our author's days, as we may obferve from old family pictures; but they are now worn only by boors and fea-faring men and we have dealers whofe fole bufinefs it is to furnith the failors with shirts, jackets, &c. who are call'd, slip-men; and VOL. II, K their Long. This fame fhall go. [he reads the fonnet. Thou being a goddefs, I forfwore not thee. If broken then, it is no fault of mine; Biron. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity; Enter Dumain, Long. By whom fhall I fend this?-company? ftay, Biron. All hid, all hid, an old infant play; Like a demy God, here fit I in the sky, And wretched fools fecrets headfully o'er-eye: More facks to the mill! O heav'ns, I have my wifh; Dumain transform'd? four woodcocks in a difh? Dum. O moft divine Kate! Biron. O moft prophane coxcomb! Dum. By heav'n, the wonder of a mortal eye! [afide. their fhops, flop-shops." Shakespeare knew the term, and has made ufe of it in more than one place. 2 Henr. IV. What faid Mr. Dombledon about the fattin for my short cloak and pops? Romeo and Juliet. Signior Romeo, bon jour ;- -there's a French falutation to your French flop. Much ado about Nothing. or in the fhape of two countries at once, as a German from the wafte downward, all flops: &c. Biron. Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie. (28) Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. Lafide. Dum. As upright as the cedar. Biren. Stoop, I fay; Her fhoulder is with child. [afide. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as fome days; but then no fun must shine. [afide. Dum. O that I had my wish! Long. And I had mine! [afide. King. And mine too, good Lord! Lajd.. [afide. Biron. Amen, so I had mine! Is not that a good word? Dum. I would forget her, but a fever the Reigns in my blood, and will remembred be. Biron. A fever in your blood! why then, incifion Would let her out in fawcers, fweet mifprifion. [afide. Dum. Once more I'll read the ode, that I have writ. Biron. Once more I'll mark, how love can vary wit. Lafide. Dumain reads his fonnet. On a day, (alack, the day!) (28) By earth, he is not, corporal, there you lie ] Dumaine, one of the lovers in fpite of his vow to the contrary, thinking himfeif alone here, breaks out into fhort foliloquies of admitation on his mistrefs; and Biron, who ftands behind as an eves-dropper, takes pleasure in cons tradicting his amorous raptures. But Dumaine was a young Lord; he had no fort of poft in the army: what wit, or allution, then, can there be in Biron's calling him corporal? I dare warrant, I have refor'd the poet's true meaning, which is this. Domaine calls his mistrefs divine, and the wonder of a mortal eye; and Biron in flat terms denies thefe hyperbolical praifes. I fcarce need hint, that our poet commonly uses corporal, as corporeal. A paffage, very fimiliar to this, occurs before, betwixt Proteus and Valentine, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona. Val. Ev'n fhe; and is she not a beav'nly creature ? K 2 Spy'd |