Yet fince love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of forrow juftle it

From what it purpos'd: Since, to wail friends loft, Is not by much fo wholefome, profitable,

As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not, my griefs are double, Biron. 9 Honeft plain words best pierce the ear of grief;

And by these badges understand the King.

For your fair fakes have we neglected time,

Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to th' oppofed end of our intents;
And what in us hath feem'd ridiculous,
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping in vain,
Form'd by the eye, and therefore like the eye,
Full of ftraying fhapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in fubjects as the eye doth rowl,
To every varied object in his glance;
With party- coated prefence of loofe love
Put on by us, if, in your heav'nly eyes,
Have mifbecom'd our oaths and gravities;
Those heav'nly eyes, that look into these faults,
'Suggested us to make them: therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewife yours. We to ourselves prove false,

-which fain would it convince; that is, the entreaties of love, which would fain over-power grief. So Lady Macbeth declares, That he will convince the chamberlain with wine.

9 Honest plain words, &c.-] As it feems not very proper for Biron to court the princefs for the king in the king's prefence, at this critical moment, I believe

By

By being once false, for ever to be true
To thofe that make us both; fair ladies, you:
And even that falfhood, in itself a fin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to Grace.

Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
Your Favours, the embaffadors of love :
And in our maiden council rated them
At courtship, pleafant jeft, and courtesy;
As bombaft, and as lining to the time:
But more devout than this, in our respects 4,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves,
In their own fashion, like a merriment.

Dum. Our letters, Madam, fhew'd much more than jeft,

Long. So did our looks.

Rof. We did not cote them fo3.

King. Now at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves.

Prin. A time, methinks, too short,

To make a world-without-end bargain in;

No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjur'd much,

By being once falfe, for ever to be

true

To those that made us false.~] We should read,

We to ourselves prove true.

3 As bombaft, and as lining to the time :] This line is obfcure. Bombaft was a kind of loose texture not unlike what is now called wadding, ufed to give the dreffes of that time bulk and protuberance, without much encreafe of weight; whence the fame name is yet given to a tumour of words unfupported by folid fentiment. The princefs, therefore, fays, that they confidered this courtfhip as but bombaft, as fomething to fill out life, which not being clofely united with it,

might be thrown away at pleafure.

4 But more devout, than THESE ARE our refpecs

Have we not been ;-] This nonfenfe should be read thus, But more devout than THIS,

(SAVE our refpects) Have we not been i. e. fave the refpect we owe to your majefty's quality, your courtship we have laughed at, and made jest of.

WARBURTON. I read with Sir T. Hanmer, But more devout than this, in our respects.

5 We did not COAT them fo.] We fhould read, QUOTE, efteem, reckon. Full

Full of dear guiltinefs; and therefore, this—
If for my love (as there is no fuch caufe)
You will do aught, this fhall you do for me:
Your oath I will not truft; but go with speed
To fome forlorn and naked Hermitage,
Remote from all the pleafures of the world;
There ftay until the twelve celestial Signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning.
If this auftere infociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frofts and fafts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy bloffoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge; challenge me, by these deserts;
And by this virgin palm, now kiffing thine,
I will be thine; and 'till that inftant fhut
My woful felf up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation,

For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, To flatter up thefe powers of mine with reft" The fudden hand of death clofe up mine eye! Hence, ever then, my heart is in thy breaft. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me?

7

6 TO FLATTER up these powers of mine with reft;] We fhould read, FETTER up, i. e. the turbulence of his paffion, which hindered him from fleeping, while he was uncertain whether the would have him or not. So that he fpeaks to this purpose, If I would not do more than this to gain my wonted repofe, may that repofe end in my death. WARB.

Rof.

Flatter or footb is, in my opinion, more appofite to the king's purpose than fetter. Perhaps we may read,

To flatter on these hours of time with reft; That is, I would not deny to live in the hermitage, to make the year of delay pafs in quiet.

7 Biron. [And what to me, my Love? and what to me?

Rof.

Rof. You must be purged too, your fins are rank, You are attaint with fault and perjury: Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelve-month fhall you spend, and never reft, But fee the weary beds of people sick,

Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me?
Cath. 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.
Long. I'll ftay with patience; but the time is long.
Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my lady? miftrefs, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble Suit attends thy answer there;

Impose some service on me for thy love.

Rof. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Biron,
Before I faw you; and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts;
Which you on all eftates will execute,
That lie within the mercy of your wit:

To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won;
You fhall this twelve-month term from day to day
Visit the speechlefs Sick, and ftill converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
T'enforce the pained Impotent to fmile.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?

It cannot be, it is impoffible:

Mirth cannot move a foul in agony.

Rof. Why, that's the way to choak a gibing spirit, Whofe influence is begot of that loofe grace, Which fhallow-laughing hearers give to fools: A jeft's profperity lies in the ear

*

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if fickly ears,
Deaft with the clamours of their own dear groans,
Will hear your idle fcorns; continue then,
And I will have you, and that fault withal:
But if they will not, throw away that fpirit;
And I fhall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your Reformation.

Biron. A twelve-month? well; befal what will befal, I'll jeft a twelve-month in an Hofpital.

Prin. Ay, fweet my lord, and fo I take my leave. [To the King. King. No, Madam; we will bring you on your way.

- dear fhould here, as in many other places, be dere, fad, odious.