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Biron.

Jaq. Ay, Sir, from one Monsieur Biron, to one of the strange Queen's Ladies.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snowwhite hand of the most beauteous lady Rosaline. 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 desir’d employment, This Biron is one of the votaries with the King; and here he hath fram’d a letter to a sequent of the stranger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath miscarry'd. Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty: adieu. Jaq. Good Coftard, go with me. Sir, God save your life. Cost. 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 shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege. I have with the parents of the aforesaid child or pupil

, undertake your ben venuto; where will I those verses to be very unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your society.

Nath. And thank you too: for society (saith 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 say me, nay: Pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at their game,

and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone. Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am coursing myself. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a

prove

By heaven,

pitch ; pitch, that defiles ; defile! a foul word: well, set thee down, forrow; for so they say the fool said

, and so say I, and I the fuol. Well prov'd wit. By the Lord,' this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills sheep

, it kills me, I a sheep. 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. *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, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest 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 !

[he stands afide Enter the King. King. Ay me!

Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, sweet Cupid; thou haft thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, secrets. King. [reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their freih rays have smote

The night of dew, that on my cheeks down flows;
Nor shines the filver moon one half so bright,

Through the transparent bofom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;

Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep;
No drop, but as a coach doth carry thee,

So rideft thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will shew;
But do not love thyself, then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and fill make me weep.
O Queen of Queens, how far dost 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, shade folly. Who is he coines höre ?

[The King feps aside, Enter Longaville. What! Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.

Biron. Now in thy likeness one more fool appears.
Long. Ay me! I am forsworn.
Biron. Why, he comes in like a Perjure, wearing

papers. (26)
King. In love, I hope; sweet fellow hip in fhame.
Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name.
Long. Am I the first, that have been perjur'd fo?
Biron. I could put thec in comfort : not by two that

I know; Thou mak'it the triumviry, the three-corner-cap of

society, The shape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up fimplicity.

Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to move: O fweet Maria, Empress of my love, These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

Biron. O, rhimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hore: Disfigure not his slop. (25)

Long (26) Wby, be comes in like a perjur'd, war-z pamers. All h: editions, that I have seen, give us a non enfical adjective here, er * the first old Folia, and a Quarto impression of this play publish's 'sa 1623: in both which it is rightly, as I have regula ed the text, a perjure. So ,u the troublesome reign of K. Fékr, in iwo paris.

But now black-spotted perjure as he is. In like manner the French make a fubftantive of this word, " 11:. jure : i. e, a fortivorn wreich.

(27) Ob, rhimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose ; Disfigure 1.02 bis ihop.] All the editions happen to concur in this erros but what agreement in fenfe is there betwixt Cupid's bose and his jhop? 0r, what relation can those two terms have to one another ! or, what, indeed, can be understood by Cupid's shop? It must undoubtedly be corrected, as I have reformid the text. Siips are large and wide-knced breeches, the garb in tathion in our author's days, as we may observe from old family pictures; but they are now worn only by boors and fea-faring men : and we have dealers whofe fde bufiness it is to fure nith the Tailors with shirts, jackets, &c. who are callid, pup-men; and VOL. II,

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Long. This same shall

go: [he reads the sonnet. Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye

('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument) Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment:
A woman I forswore ; but I will prove,

Thou being a goddesi, I forswore not thee.
My vow was earthy, thou a heav'nly love:

Thy grace, being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:

Then thou fair sun, which on my earth doft fine,
Exhal'ít this vapour-vow; in thee it is;

If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
If by me broke, what fool is not so wise

To lose an oath to win a Paradise ?
Biron. This is the liver- vein, which makes flesh a deity;
A green goose a goddess : pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend, we are much out o'th'way.

Enter Dumain,
Long. By whom shall I send this ? company?

stay,
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
Dumain transform’d? four woodcocks in a dish?

Dum. O moft divine Kate !
Biron. O moft prophane coxcomb! [afide.

Dum. By heav'n, the wonder of a mortal eye! their shops, stop-shops, Spakespeare knew the term, and has made use of it in more than one place.' 2 Henr. IV.

What said 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 shape of iwo countries at once, as a German from the waste downward, all fiops : &c.

wish;

my

Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie. (28)

[ande. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coel. Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.

ladie. Dum. As upright as the cedar. Biron. Stoop, I say; Her shoulder is with child.

(afdi. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must fine.

[afide. Dum. O that I had with ! Long. and I had mine!

{afide. King. And mine too, good Lord! Biron. Amen, fo I had mine! Is not that a good word?

(alidia Dum. I would forget her, but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remembred be.

Biron. A fever in your blood! why then, incision Would let her out in fawcers, sweet misprision. [aside.

Dum. Once more I'll read the ode, that I have writ. Biron. Once more I'll mark, how love can vary wit.

[ai. Dumain reads his sonnet. On a day, (alack, the day!)

Love, whole month is ever Miaz, (28) By eartb, he is not, corporal, ibere you lie ] Dumeine, one of the lovers in spite of bis vow to the contrary, thinking himself alone here, -breaks out into fort soliloquies of admitation on his mistress; and Biron, who stands behind as an eves-dropper, takes pleasure in con, tradicting his amorous raptures. But Dumaine was a you.g Lord: he had no fort of port in the army: what wit, or allusion, then, cura there be in Biron's calling him corporal ? I dare warrant, I have refor’d the poet's true meaning, which is this. Dimaine calls his mir. tress divine, and the wonder of a mortal eye; and Biron in flat terms denies these hyperbolical praises. I scarce need hint, that our poet coinmonly uses corporal, as corporeal. A paffage, very fimiliar to this, occurs before, betwixt Proteus and Valen:ine, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Val. Ev’n she; and is she not a beav'nly creatare!
Pio. No: but she is an earthly paragon,
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