Ay me! fays one; O Jove! the other cries; I would not have him know fo much by me. [Coming forward. O, what a feen of fool'ry have I seen, Where lies thy grief? O tell me, good Dumain; King. Too bitter is thy jeft. Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view? Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd by you. I, that am honeft; I, that hold it fin To break the vow I am engaged in. I am betray'd by keeping company With men, like men, of ftrange inconftancy. King. Soft, whither away fo faft? A true man or a thief, that gallops fo? Biren. I poft from love; good lover, let me go. Jaq. God bless the King! King. What prefent haft thou there? The treafon and you go in peace away together. Where hadft thou it ? Jaq. Of Coftard. King. Where hadft thou it ? [He reads the letter. Coft. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my Liege, a toy: your Grace needs not fear it. Long. It did move him to paffion, and therefore let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. Biron. Ah, you whorefon loggerhead, you were born to do me fhame. [To Coftard, Guilty, my Lord, guilty: I confefs, I confefs. King. What? Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mefs. He, he, and you; and you, my Leige, and I Dum. Now the number is even. Biron. True, true; we are four : Will these turtles be gone? King. Hence, Sirs, away. Coft. Walk afide the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Coft. and Jaquen. Biron. Sweet Lords, fweet lovers, O, let us embrace: As true we are, as flesh and blood can be. The fea will ebb and flow, heaven will fhew his face : We cannot crofs the cause why we were born: King. What, did these rent lines fhew fome love of thine? That (like a rude and favage man of Inde, At the firft opening of the gorgeous eaft) Bows not his vassal head, and, strucken blind, Kiffes the base ground with obedient breast ? What peremptory eagle-fighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her Majesty ? King. What zeal, what fury, bath infpir'd thee now ! My love (her miftrefs) is a gracious moon; She (an attending star) scarce seen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. O, but for my love, day would turn to night. Of all complexions the cull'd fovereignty, Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where feveral worthies make one dignity; Where nothing wants, that want itself doth feek, Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues; Fy, painted rhetorick! O, fhe needs it not: To things of fale, a feller's praise belongs: She paffes praife, the praife too fhort doth blot. A wither'd hermit, fivefcore winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: Beauty doth varnifh age, as if new-born, And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy; , 'tis the fun, that maketh all things shine. King. By heav'n, thy love is black as ebony. K 4 Biron Biren. Is ebony like her? O wood divine! (29) That I may fwear, beauty doth beauty lack; No face is fair, that is not full so black? King. O paradox, black is the badge of hell: The hue of dungeons, and the fcowl of night; (30) And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils fooneft tempt, refembling fpirits of light: O, if in black my lady's brow be deckt, It mourns, that painting and ufurping hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect : And therefore is the born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days, For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid difpraife, Paints itself black to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her, are chimney-fweepers black. Long. And fince her time, are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their fweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your miftreffes dare never come in rain, For fear their colours fhould be washt away. King. 'Twere good, yours did: for, Sir to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not washt to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as fhe. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff fo dear. (29) Is ebony like ber? O word divine!] This is the reading of alt the editions, that I have feen: but both Dr. Thirlby and Mr. Warburton concurr'd in reading, (as I had likewife conjectur'd,) O wood divine! (30)- -black is the badge of bell; The bue of dungeons, and the fchool of night.] Black, being the school of night, is a piece of myftery above my comprehenfion. I had guefs'd, it should be, the ftole of night: but I have preferr'd the conjecture of my friend Mr. Warburton, as it comes nearer in pronunciation to the corrupted reading, as well as agrees better with the other images. Long Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face fee. Biron. O, if the ftreets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread. Dum. O vile! then as fhe goes, what upward lies The street should fee as fhe walkt over head. King. But what of this, are we not all in love? Biron. Nothing fo fure, and thereby all forfworn. King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there;- -some flattery for this evil Long. O, fome authority how to proceed; Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some falve for perjury. Biron. O, 'tis more than need. Have at you then, Affection's men at arms; (31) And where that you have vow'd to ftudy, (Lords) They are the ground, the book, the academies, (31) Have at you then affections. Men at arms,] Thus Mr. Pope has pointed this paffage in both his impreffions, not much to the praife of his fagacity. The third edition in Folio began the corruption of the place in this manner; Have at you then affections, men at arms; which Mr. Rowe inadvertently follow'd. But we muft certainly read, as I have reftor'd to the text : Have at you then affection's men at arms, i. e. Love's foldiers. The King fays, towards the conclufion of this scene; 1 Saint Cupid, then! and, foldiers, to the fuld! for by giving Cupid as the word, he would intimate that they fought under his banner.. |