Prin. Welcome, Macard, but that thou interrupteft our merriment. Mac. I'm forry, Madam; for the news I bring Is heavy in my tongue. The King your fatherPrin. Dead, for my life. Mac. Even fo my tale is told. Biron. Worthies, away; the fcene begins to cloud. Arm. For my own part, I breathe free breath; I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a foldier. King. How fares your Majefty? [Exeunt Worthies. Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. Out of a new-fad foul, that you vouchfafe King. The extreme part of time extremely forms And often, at his very loofe, decides That, which long procefs could not arbitrate. The holy fuit which fain it would convince; (53) An heavy heart bears not an humble torgue.] Thus all the editions; but, furely, without either fenfe or truth. None are more bumble in fpeech, than they who labour under any oppreffion. The Princess is defiring, her grief may apologize for her not expreffing her obligations at large; and my correction is conformable to that fentiment. From From what it purpos'd: fince, to wail friends loft, As to rejoice at friends but newly found. Prin. I understand you not, my griefs are double. All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Is likewife yours. We to ourselves prove false, To thofe that make us both; fair Ladies, you: Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love, Your favours, the embaffadors of love: And in our maiden council rated them But more devout, than these are our refpects, Have we not been; and therefore met your loves Dum. Our letters, madam, fhew'd much more than jeft. Rofa. We did not coat them fo. King. Now at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. Prin Prin. A time methinks, too short, To make a world-without-end bargain in ; Change not your offer made in heat of blood; Come challenge me; challenge me, by these deferts I will be thine; and 'till that inftant shut For the remembrance of my father's death. King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, Hence, ever then, my heart is in thy breaft. Biron. (54) [And what to me, my love? and what to me? (54) Biron. [And what to me, my love? and what to me ? You are attaint with fault and perjury. A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never reft, Rofa. Thefe fix verfes both Dr. Thirlby and Mr. Warburton concur to think fhould be expung'd; and therefore I have put them between crotchets: not that they were an interpolation, fays the Doctor, but as the author's firft draught, which he afterwards rejected; and executed the fame thought a little lower with much more spirit and elegance. Mr. War burton Rofa. You must be purged too, your fins are rank, A twelve-month fhall you spend, and never reft, Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Cath. (55) A wife!-a beard, fair health and honefty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three. Dum. O, fhall I fay, I thank you, gentle wife? Cath. Not fo, my Lord; a twelve-month and a day, I'll mark no words that fmooth-fac'd wooers fay. Come, when the King doth to my Lady come; Then if I have much love, I'll give you fome. Dum. I'll ferve thee true and faithfully till then. Cath. Yet fwear not, left ye be forfworn again. Long. What fays Maria? Mar. At the twelve-month's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Rofa. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron, burton conjectures, that Shakespeare is not to answer for the prefent abfurd repetition but his actor editors; who, thinking Rosalind's speech too long in the second plan, had abridg'd it to the lines above quoted: but, in publishing the play, ftupidly printed both the original speech of Shakespeare, and their own abridgment of it. (55) A wife, a beard, fair health, and honefty; With threefold love I give you all these three. Thus our fagacious modern editors. But if they had but the reckoning of a tapfter, as our author fays, they might have been able to distinguish four from three. I have, by the direction of the old impreffions, reform'd the pointing; and made Catharine fay what fhe intended. Seeing Dumaine, so very young, approach her with his addreffes, "You "shall have a wife, indeed! fays fhe; no, no, I'll with you three things you have more need of, a beard, a found conftitution, and bonefly enough to preferve it fuch. Which Which you on all eftates will execute, You fhall this twelve-month-term from day to day Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death ? It cannot be, it is impoffible: Mirth cannot move a foul in agony. Roja. Why, that's the way to choak a gibing fpirit, Whofe influence is begot of that loose grace, Which fhallow laughing hearers give to fools: Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if fickly ears, Biron. A twelve-month? well; befal, what will befal, I'll jeft a twelve-month in an hospital. Prin. Ay, fweet my Lord, and fo I take my leave. [to the King. King. No, Madam; we will bring you on your way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Fill; thefe Ladies courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. King. Come, Sir, it wants a twelve-month and a day, And then 'twill end. Biron. (56) That's too long for a play. Enter (56) That's too long for a play.] Befides the exact regularity to the rules of art, which the author has happen'd to preserve in fome few of his pieces; this is demonftration, think, that tho' he has more frequently tranfgrefs'd the unity of time, by cramming years into the compaïs |