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Rof. We need more light to find your meaning out.
Rof. Look, what you do; and do it ftill i'th' dark.
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,
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter.
Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the praise,
Rof. Ware pencils. How? let me not die your
My red dominical, my golden letter.
O, that your face were not fo full of Oes!
Cath. Pox of that jeft, and I befhrew all shrews: (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 speaks 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 hi therto, 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.
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 thoufand verfes of a faithful lover. A huge tranflation of hypocrifie, Vildly compil'd, profound fimplicity.
Mar. This, and thefe pearls, to me fent Longaville; The letter is too long by half a mile.
Prin. I think no lefs; doft thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter fhort?
Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
And make him proud to make me proud with jefts:
Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are
As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wifdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
Rof. The blood of youth burns not in such excess, As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
(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 A&t, countenances this Conjecture.
A domineering Pedant o'er the boy,
Mar. Folly in fools bears not fo ftrong a note,
Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet. Prepare, Madam, prepare.
Arm, wenches, arm; Encounters mounted are
Prin. Saint Dennis, to faint Cupid! what are they,
I fhould have fear'd her, had fhe been a Devil. -—
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us?
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 Rosaline. And change your Favours too; fo fhall Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes. Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours most 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 visages 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 quite divorce his memory from his Part.
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.
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. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me
(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 Abfurdity of their Proëm, in complimenting their Beauty, when they were mask'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost Propriety.