But will you hear? the King is my love fworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
Cath. And Longueville was for my fervice born.
Mar. Dumain is mine, as fure as bark on tree.
Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistreffes, give ear:
Immediately they will again be here

In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digeft this harsh indignity.
Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows ;
And leap for joy, thongh they are lame with blows:
Therefore, change Favours, and, when they repair,
Blow, like fweet rofes, in this fummer air.

Prin. How, blow? how, blow? fpeak to be understood.

Boyet. Fair ladies, mafkt, are rofes in their bud;

courtly ftudents, and that better wits may be found in the common places of education.

4 Fair ladies, mafkt, are refes
in the bud;
Dijmakt, their damafk fweet
commixture fhewn,
Are ANGELS VEILING clouds,
or refes blown.] This ftrange
nonfenfe, made worse by the
jumbling together and tranfpo-
fing the lines, 1 directed Mr.
Theobald to read thus:

Fair ladies mafk'd are roses in
the bud;

Or ANGELS VEIL'D IN clouds:
are roses blown,
Difmaft, their damask feet
commixture fhewn,
But he, willing to fhew how well
he could improve a thought,
would print it,

Or Angel-veiling Clouds, i. e. clouds which veil Angels: And by this means gave us, as

Dif

the old proverb fays, a cloud for a Juno. It was Shakespeare's purpofe to compare a fine lady to an angel; it was Mr. Theobald's chance to compare her to a cloud: And perhaps the illbred reader will fay a lucky one. However I fuppofed the Poet could never be fo nonfenfical as to compare a masked lady to a cloud, though he might compare her mak to one. The Oxford Editor, who had the advantage both of this emendation and criticifm, is a great deal more fubtile and refined, and fays it should not be angels veil'd in clouds, but angels wailing clouds, i. e. cap ping the fun as they go by him, just as a man veils his bonnet.

WARBURTON.

I know not why Sir T. Hanmer's explanation fhould be treated with fo much contempt, or why vailing clouds should be cap

Difmafkt, their damask fweet Commixture fhewn,
Are angels vailing clouds: or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity; what shall we do.
If they return in their own fhapes to woo?

Rof. Good Madam, if by me you'll be advis❜d,
Let's mock them ftill, as well known, as difguis'd;
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Difguis'd, like Mufcovites, in fhapeless gear ';
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their fhallow Shows, and Prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage fo ridiculous,
Should be prefented at our Tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw, the Gallants are at hand.
Prin. Whip to our Tents, as roes run o'er the land.

[Exeunt *.

SCENE VII.

Before the Princess's Pavilion.

Enter the King, Biron, Longueville, and Dumain, in their own habits; Boyet, meeting them.

King.

AIR Sir, God fave you! Where's the Princefs?

FAIR
F

Boyet. Gone to her Tent.

Pleafe it your Majefty, command me any fervice to - her?

King. That the vouchfafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and fo will fhe, I know, my lord.

ping the fun. Ladies unmasked, fays Boyet, are like angels vailing clouds, or letting thofe clouds which obfcured their brightnefs, fink from before them. What is there in this abfurd or contemptible?

[Exit.

fhapeless gear ;] Shapeless, for uncouth, or what Shakespeare elsewhere calls diffufed. WARBURTON. *Mr. Theobald ends the fourth

act here,

Biron. This fellow picks up wit, as pigeons peas;
And utters it again, when Jove doth please:'
He is wit's pedlar, and retails his wares

At wakes and waffels, meetings, markets, fairs:
And we that fell by grofs, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with fuch fhow.
This gallant pins the wenches on his fleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
He can carve too, and lifp: why, this is he,
That kift away his hand in courtefy;
This is the ape of form, Monfieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms: nay, he can fing
A mean moft mainly; and, in ufhering,
Mend him who can; the ladies call him fweet;
The ftairs, as he treads on them, kifs his feet.
This is the flower, that fmiles on every one",
To fhew his teeth, as white as whale his bone.

This is the flower, that fmiles on ev'ry one. The broken disjointed metaphor is a fault in writing. But in order to pass a true judgment on this fault, it is ftill to be obferved, that when a metaphor is grown fo common as to defert, as it were, the figurative, and to be received into the common ftile, then what may be affirmed of the thing reprefented, or the fubftance, may be affirmed of the thing reprefenting, or the image. To il luftrate this by the inftance be fore us, a very complaifant, finical, over-gracious perfon, was fo commonly called the flower, or, as he elsewhere expreffes it, the pink of courtefte, that in common talk, or in the loweft ftile, this metaphor might be ufed without keeping up the image,

And

but any thing affirmed of it as of an agnomen: hence it might be faid, without offence, to smile, to flatter, &c. And the reafon is this; in the more folemn, lefs-used metaphors, our mind is fo turned upon the image which the metaphor conveys, that it expects, this image fhould be, for fome little time, continued, by terms proper to keep it in view. And if, for want of thefe terms, the image be no fooner prefented than difmiffed, the mind fuffers a kind of violence by being drawn off abruptly and unexpectedly from its contemplation. Hence it is that the broken, disjointed, and mix'd metaphor fo much fhocks us. But when it is once become worn and hacknied by common ufe, then even the very first mention

of

And confciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. A blifter on his fweet tongue with my heart, That put Armado's Page out of his Part!

SCENE VIII.

Enter the Princefs, Rofaliné, Maria, Catharine,
Boyet, and attendants.

Biron. See, where it comes; behaviour, what wert thou",

'Till this man fhew'd thee? and what art thou now?
King. All hail, fweet Madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair in all hail is foul, as I conceive.
King. Conftrue my fpeeches better, if you may.
Prin. Then with me better, I will give you leave.
King. We come to vifit you, and purpofe now

To lead you to our Court; vouchfafe it then. Prin. This field fhall hold me, and fo hold your

VOW:

Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.

of it is not apt to excite in us the reprefentative image; but brings immediately before us the idea of the thing reprefented. And then to endeavour to keep up and continue the borrow'd ideas, by right adapted terms, would have as ill an effect on the other hand: Becaufe the mind is already gone off from the image to the fubftance. Grammarians would do well to confider what has been here faid when they fet upon amending Greek and Roman writings. For the much ufed hack nied metaphors being now very imperfectly known, great care is equired not to act in this cafe temerariously. WARBURTON. 7 behaviour, what wert thou,

'Till this man fhew'd thee? and

what art thou now?] Thefe are two wonderfully fine lines, intimating that what courts call manners, and value themfelves fo much upon teaching, as a thing no where else to be learnt, is a modeft filent accomplishment, under the direction of nature and common fenfe, which does its office in promoting focial life without being taken notice of. But that when it degenerates into fhew and parade it becomes an unmanly contemptible quality. WARBURTON.

What is told in this note is undoubtedly true, but is not comprifed in the quotation.

King. Rebuke me not for That, which you provoke;

The virtue of your eye muft break my oath . Prin. You nick-name virtue; vice you fhould have fpoke:

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unfully'd lilly, I proteft,

A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your houfe's guest:
So much I hate a breaking caufe to be
Of heav'nly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in defolation here,
Unfeen, unvifited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not fo, my lord; it is not fo, Ifwear;
We have had paftimes here, and pleasant game.
A mefs of Ruffians left us but of late.

King. How, Madam? Ruffians?

Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord;

Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.

Rof. Madam, fpeak true. It is not fo, my lord:
My lady, to the manner of thefe days,
In courtefy gives undeferving praise.

We four, indeed, confronted were with four
In Ruffian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thirfty, fools would fain have drink.

The virtue of your eye MUST break my oath.] Common fenfe requires us to read,

-MADE break my oath, i. e. made me. And then the reply is pertinent-It was the force of your beauty that made me break my oath, therefore you ought not to upbraid me with a

crime which you yourself was the cause of. WARBURTON

I believe the author means that the virtue, in which word good nefs and power are both comprifed, muft diffolve the obligation of the oath. The princefs, in her anfwer, takes the most invidious part of the ambiguity.