Imatges de pÓgina

may still

go right!

Th' anointed Sovereign of sighs and groans:
Leige of all loyterers and malecontents :
Dread Prince of plackets, King of codpieces :
Sole Imperator, and great General
Of trotting parators: (O my little heart!)
s And I to be a corporal of his File,
And wear his colours ! like a tumbler, stoop!
What? I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A Woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing; ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd, that it
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all

And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and by heav'n, one that will do the deed,
Tho' Argus were her eunuch and her guard;
And I to figh for her! to watch for her!

for her! go to:- It is a plague,
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty, dreadful, little, Might.
Well, I will love, write, figh, pray, sue and groan:
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit.
5 And I to be a corporal of his Field,

And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!) This nonsense must be corrected thus,

And I to be a corporal of bis File,

And wear his colours! like a tumbler, stoop! The corporal of a file is a military term. And so used elsewhere by Shakespear. All's well, &c.

Great Mars! I put my self into thy pile. And to ftoop like a tumbler agrees with the servile condescensions of a lover. But when the transcribers once saw the tumbler, they thought his boop could not be far behind.

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A C T IV. SCENE I. A Pavilion in the Park near the Palace.

Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Catharine, Lords, Attendants, and a Forefter.


AS that the King that spurr'd his horse so hard

Against the steep uprising of the hill?
Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Who e'er he was, he shew'd a mounting

Well, lords, to day we shall have our dispatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.
Then Forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murtherer in?

For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice ; A stand, where you may make the faireft shoot.

Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair, that shoot: And thereupon thou speak’st the fairest shoot.

For. Pardon me, madam : for I meant not so.

Prin. What, what? first praise me, then again O short-liv'd pride! not fair? alack, for wo!

For. Yes, madam, fair.

Prin. Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.

For. Nothing but fair is that, which you inherit.

Prin. See, see, my beauty will be fav'd by merit. O heresie in fair, fit for these days! A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. But come, the bow; now mercy goes to kill, And shooting well is then accounted ill.


say, no?


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Thus will I save my credit in the shoot,
Not wounding, Pity would not let me doʻt:
If wounding, then it was to Thew my Skill;
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes ;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes ;
· When for fame's fake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart,
As I for praise alone now feek to spill
The poor deer's blood, - that my heart means no ill.

Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-fovereignty
Only for praise-lake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?
Prin. Only for praise ; and praise we may afford

To any lady, that subdues her Iord.

Enter Costard.
Boyet. Here comes a member of the common-

wealth. Coft. God dig-you-den all; pray you, which is the head lady!

Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

Coff. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin. The thickest and the tallest.
Coft. The thickest and the tallest? it is so, truth is

truth. 3 An' my waste, mistress, were as slender as your wit, One o' these maids girdles for my waste should be fit.

Are 1 When for fame's fake, for praise, an outward part,

We bend to that the working of the heart.] The harmony of the measure, the easiness of the expression, and the good sense in the thought, all concur to recommend these two lines to the reader's notice.

2 THAT my heart means no ill.] We should read, îHO'

my beart


An' your wafte, mistress, were as flender as mỹ wit,
One of these maids girdles for YOUR wafle should bt fit.}


Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest

here. Prin. What's your will, Sir? what's your will? Coft. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one

lady Rofaline. Prin. O thy letter, thy lecter: he's a good friend.

of mine. Scand aside, good bearer.- Boyet, you can carve ; Break up this capon.

Boyet. I am bound to serve.
This letter is miftook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

Prin. We will read it, I swear.
Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.

Boyet reads. B

Y heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible ;

true, that thou art beauteous ; truth it self, that thou art lovely; more fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth it felf; bave commiferation on thy beroical

vafal. The magnanimous and most illustrate King Cophetua fet eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and be it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici ; which to anatomize in tbt vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, faw, and overcame; he came, one ; faw, two; overcame, three. Who came ? the King. Why did be And was not one of her maid's girdles fit for her? It is plain that my

have all the way changed places, by some accident or other; and that the lines should be read thus,

An' My waste, mistress, was as fender as YOUR wit,

One of these maids girdles for my waße should be fit. The lines are humourous enough, both as reflecting on his own gross shape, and her slender wit. 4 -Boyet, you can carve ;

Break up this capon.) i. e. open this letter. Our poet uses this metaphor, as the French do their Poulet; which fignifies both a young fowl, and a love-letter. Poulet, amatoria litteræ ; says Richelet.

Mr. Bislop.

and your

come si

come ? to see. Why did be fee? to overcome. To wbom came be? to the beggar. What saw be ? the beggar. Who overcame he ? the beggar. The conclusion is victory; on whose fide ? the King's; the captive is inricb'd: on whose side ? the beggar's. The.catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose fide ? the King's? no, on both in one, or one in both: I am the King, (for so stands the comparifon) thou the beggar, for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could. Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; for tittles? titles: for thy self? me. Thus expecting thy reply, I propbane. my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy pięture, and my beart on thy every part. Thine in the dearest design of industry,

Don Adriana de Armado.

. Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his

preyi Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play. But if thou strive (poor soul) what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited

this letter? What vane? what weathercock ? did you ever hear

better? Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the

stile. Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it ere

while. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here

in Court, A phantasme, a monarcho, and one that makes sport

5 Thus dost thou hear, &c.] These fix lines appear to be a quotation from some ridiculous poem of that cime.


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