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Rof. We need more light to find your meaning out.
Cath. You'll marr the light, by taking it in fnuff:
Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

Rof. Look, what you do; and do it still i'th' dark.
Cath. So do not you, for you are a light wench.

Rof. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Cath. You weigh me not; O, that's, you care not for me.

Rof. Great reafon; for paft Cure is ftill paft Care. (33) Prin. Well bandied both; a fet of wit well play'd. But, Rofaline, you have a Favour too : Who fent it? and what is it?

Rof. I would, you knew.

And if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron.
The numbers true; and were the numbring too,
I were the faireft Goddess on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter.

Prin. Any thing like?

Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the praife.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclufion.

Cath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

Rof. Ware pencils. How? let me not die your debter,

My red dominical, my golden letter.

O, that your face were not fo full of Oes!

Cath. Pox of that jeft, and I beshrew all fhrews: (34)

(33) for paft Care is still paft Cure.] The Tranfpofition which I have made in the two Words, Care and Cure, is by the Direction of the ingenious Dr. Thirbly. The Reason fpeaks for it felf.

(34) Prin. Pox of that jest, and I beshrew all Shrews.

As the Princess has behav'd with great Decency all along hitherto, there is no Reason to be affign'd why he should start all at once into this courfe Dialect. But I am perfwaded, the Editors only have made her go out of Character. In short, Rofaline and Catharine are rallying one another without Referve; and to Catharine this firft Line certainly belong'd, and therefore I have ventur'd once more to put her in Poffeffion of it,

Prino

Prin. But what was fent to you from fair Dumaine?
Cath. Madam, this glove.

Prin. Did he not fend you twain ?
Cath. Yes, Madam; and moreover,
Some thousand verfes of a faithful lover.
A huge tranflation of hypocrifie,
Vildly compil'd, profound fimplicity.

Mar. This, and these pearls, to me fent Longaville;
The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no less; dost thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter short?

Mar. Ay, or I would thefe hands might never part.
Prin. We are wife girls, to mock our lovers for't.
Rof. They are worse fools to purchase mocking fo.
That fame Biron I'll torture, ere I go.

O, that I knew he were but in by th' week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the feason, and obferve the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootlefs rhimes,
And fhape his fervice all to my behefts,

And make him proud to make me proud with jefts:
So Pedant-like would I o'erfway his ftate, (35)
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are
catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd,

Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

Rof. The blood of youth burns not in fuch excess,

As gravity's revolt to wantonnefs.

(35) So pertaunt like would I o'ersway his State,] If the Editors are acquainted with this Word, and can account for the Meaning of it, their Induftry has been more fuccefsful than mine, for I can no where trace it. So pedant like, as I have ventur❜d to replace in the Text, makes very good Sense, i. e. in fuch lordly, controlling, manner would I bear Myself over him, &c. What Biron fays of a Pedant, towards the Conclufion of the 2d Act, countenances this Conjecture.

A domineering Pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no Mortal more magnificent.

Mar.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not fo ftrong a note,
As fool'ry in the wife, when wit doth dote:
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in fimplicity.
Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Boyet. O, I am ftab'd with laughter; where's her Grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?

Boyet. Prepare, Madam, prepare.

Arm, wenches, arm; Encounters mounted are
Against your peace; love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be furpriz'd.
Mufter your wits, ftand in your own defence,
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis, to faint Cupid! what are they,
That charge their breath against us? fay, fcout, fay.
Boyet. Under the cool fhade of a fycamore,

I thought to close mine eyes fome half an hour s
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd Reft,
Toward that shade, I might behold, addrest
The King and his companions; warily
I ftole into a neighbour thicket by;

And over-heard, what you shall over-hear:
That, by and by, difguis'd they will be here.
Their Herald is a pretty knavish Page,

That well by heart hath conn'd his embaffage.
Action and accent did they teach him there;
Thus muft thou speak, and thus thy body bear
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Prefence majestical would put him out:
For, quoth the King, an Angel fhalt thou fee;
Yet fear not thou, but fpeak audaciously.
The boy reply'd, an Angel is not evil;

I should have fear'd her, had he been a Devil.
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.

One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd, and fwore,
A better fpeech was never fpoke before.

Ano

Another with his finger and his thumb,

Cry'd, via! we will do't, come what will come.
The third he caper'd and cry'd, all goes well:
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With fuch a zealous laughter, fo profound,
That in this fpleen ridiculous appears,

To check their folly, paffion's folemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us? Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparell'd thus, Like Mofcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess. Their purpose is to parley, court and dance; And every one his love-feat will advance Unto his fev'ral miftrefs; which they'll know By Favours fev'ral, which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be taskt ;
For, ladies, we will every one be maskt:
And not a man of them fhall have the grace,
Defpight of fuite, to fee a lady's face.

Hold, Rofaline; this Favour thou shalt wear,
And then the King will court thee for his Dear
Hold, take you this, my fweet, and give me thine ;
So fhall Biron take me for Rofaline.

And change your Favours too; fo fhall your Loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours moft in fight.
Cath. But in this changing, what is your intent?
Prin. Th' effect of my intent is to cross theirs ;
They do it but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their feveral councils they unbosom shall
To loves miftook, and fo be mockt withal,
Upon the next occafion that we meet,
With vifages difplay'd, to talk and greet.

Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't?
Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot;

Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace :
But while 'tis fpoke, each turn away her face.
Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the Speaker's

heart,

And

And quite divorce his memory from his Part.
Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt,'
The reft will ne'er come in, if he be out.

There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown;
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
So fhall we stay, mocking intended game;

And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame. [Sound.
Boyet. The trumpet founds; be maskt, the maskers

come.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and attendants, difguis'd like Mofcovites; Moth with Mufick, as for a masquerade.

Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties, no richer than rich taffata. (36)
Moth. A holy parcel of the faireft dames,
That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views.

[The ladies turn their backs to him.

Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.

Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out

Biron. True; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe

Not to behold.

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

Moth. Once to behold with your fun-beamed eyes

With your fun-beamed eyes

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithete;

You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes.

[blocks in formation]

Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me

out.

(36) Biron. Beauties, no richer than rich Taffata.] i. e. The Taffata Masks they wore to conceal Themselves. All the Editors concur to give this Line to Biron; but, furely, very abfurdly for he's One of the zealous Admirers, and hardly would make fuch an Inference. Boyet is fneering at the Parade of their Address, is in the fecret of the Ladies' Stratagem, and makes himself Sport at the Absurdity of their Proëm, in complimenting their Beauty, when they were mask'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost Propriety.

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