Imatges de pàgina

her: fure, they are bastards to the English, the French ne'er got 'em,

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, To make yourself a son out of my

blood. 4 Lord. (18) Fair one, I think not so. Laf. There's one grape yet.. Par. I am sure, thy father drunk wine,

Laf. But if thou be'est not an ass, I am a Youth of fourteen. I have known thee already.

Hel. I dare not say, I take you ; but I give Me and my service, ever whilft I live, Into your guiding power; this is the man. (To Bertram.

King, Why then, young Bertram, take her; se's thy wife.

Ber. My wife, my Lieger I shall beseech your Highness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.

King. Know'st thou not, Bertram, What she hath done for me?

Ber. Yes, my good Lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
King, Thou know's, she has rais’d me from my

fickly bed.
Ber. But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
Muft answer for your raising? I know her well :
She had her breeding at my father's charge:
A poor physician's daughter my wife!— Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!

King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up: ftrange is it, that our bloods,

(18) 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not fo.

Laf. There's one grape yet, I am sure my father drunk wine; but if thou be'eff not an afs. I am a youth of fourteen: I have known thee already. ] Surely, this is most incongruent ftuff. Lafeu is angry with the cther roblemen, for giving Hilera the repulse: and is he angry too, and thinks the fourth nobleman an ass, because he's for embracing the match? The whole, certainly, can't be the speech of one mouth. As I have divided the speech, I think, clearness and humour are refor’d. And if Parolles were not a little pert and impertinent here to Lafeu, why should he say, he had found him out already? Or, why should he quarrel with him in the

very next scene?


Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In differences, so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, (fave what thou dislik'it,
A poor physician's daughter,) thou dislik'st
Of virtue for the name : but do not fo.
(19) From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed.
Where great addition swells, and virtue none,
It is a dropfied honour; good alone,
Is good without a name.

Vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair,
In these, to nature she's immediate heir;
And these breed honour: That is honour's scorn,-
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the fire. (20) Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers : the mere word's a slave
Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave;
A lying trophy ; (21) and as oft is dumb,
Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
(19) From lowest place, wheace virtuous things proceed,

The place is dignified by th' doers deed.] Tis strange, that none of the editors could perceive, that both the sentiment and grammar are defective here. The easy correction, which I have given, was prescribed to me by the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. (20)

-Honours beft thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive

Than our foregoers.] How nearly does this sentiment of our : author's resemble the following pallige of Yuvenal!

Ergo ut miremur te, non tua, primum aliquid da
Quod poffim titulis incidere, præter honores
Quos illis damus, & dedimus, quibus omnia debes.

Sat. VIII. ver. 68, (21)

and as oft is dumb, Where duff and damn'd oblivion is the tomb,

Of bonour'd bones, indeed, what should be faid?] This is such pretty stuff, indeed, as is only worthy of its accurate editors! the transposition of an innocent top, or two, is a task above their diligence; especially, if common sense is to be the result of it. The regulation, I have given, muft ftrike every reader so at first glance, that it needs not a word in confirmation,


Of honour'd bones, indeed. What should be faid?
If thou can'ft like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest: virtue and the,
Is her own dow'r; honour and wealth from me.

Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou should'i Atrive

to chose. Hel. That you are well reftor'd, my Lord, I'm glad: Let the reit go.

King. (22) My honour's at the stake; which to defend,
I must produce my pow'r. Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift!
That doft in vile misprision shackle up
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
We poizing us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam ; that wilt not know,
It is in us to plant thine honour, where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travels in thy good;
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims :
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers, and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; my revenge and hate
Loofing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity, Speak thine answer.

Ber. Pardon, my gracious Lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes. When I consider,
What great creation, and what dole of honour,
Flies where you bid ; I find, that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
(22) My bonour's at the flake; wbicb to defeat

I must produce my pow'r.] The poor King of France is again made a man of Gorbam, by our unmerciful editors: What they make him say, is mere moak.reasoning. The passage must either be restor’d, as I have conjecturally corrected; or else the King mult be suppos'd to break off abruptly from what he was going to say, and determine that he will interpose bis authority. As thus ; My bonour's at ibe flake; wbich to defeat, I must produce my pow'r.


The praised of the King; who, so enobled,
Is, as 'twere, born so.

King. Take her by the hand,
And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoize; if not in thy estate,
A ballance more repleat.

Ber. I take her hand.

King. Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
And be perform'd to-night; the folemn feaft
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her,
Thy love's to me religious; else does err. [Exeunt.

Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
Laf. Do you hear, Monsieur a word with you.
Par. Your pleasure, Sir?

Laf. Your Lord and master did well to make his. recantation.

Par. Recantation ?-my Lord? my master:
Laf. Ay, is it not a language I speak ?

Par. A most harsh one, and not to be understood,' without bloody succeeding. My master?

Laf. Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?
Par. To any Count; to all Counts; to what is man., s

Laf. To what is Count's man; Count's mafter is ofix another stile.

Par. You are too old, Sir; let it satisfy you, you. are too old.

Laf. I must tell thee, firrah, I write man; to which ; title age cannot bring thee.

Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty

wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel, it might pass; yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou’rt scarce worth.


Par. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee

Laf. (23) Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou haften thy tryal; which if,-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! lo, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, I look through thee. Give me thy hand.

Par. My Lord, you give me most egregious indignity. Laf. Ay, with all my heart, and thou are worthy of it.

Par. I have not, my Lord, deserv'd it.

Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser

Laf. Ev'n as soon as thou can'ft, for thou hast to pull at a smack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beest bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.

Par. My Lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.

Laf. I would, it were hell-pains for thy fake, and my poor doing eternal : for doing, I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.

[Exit. (23) Do nct plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou kasen thy tryal; whicb is, Lord bave mercy on thee for å hen;] Mr Rowe and Mr. Pope, either by inadvertence, or some other fatality, have blunderd this passage into stark nonsense. I have refor’d the reading of the old folio, and by subjoining the mark to fhew a break is necessary, have retriev'd the poet's genuine sense:

- wbich if- Lord have mercy on thee for a ben! The sequel of the sentence is imply'd, not express’d: This figure the rhetoricians have call'd 'ANOG CÓ TOMOIS. A remarkable instance we have of it in the first book of Virgil's Æneis.

Quos Ego, fed motos præfiat componere Flučius.
So likewise in Terence;

Mala mens, malus animus; quem quidem Ego fi sensero,
Sed quid opus eft verbis ?

Andr. AET I. Sc. I. But I fall have occafion to remark again upon it, when I come to King Lear,


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