The dogs did yell; put L to fore, Nath. A rare talent! Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Hol. This is a gift that I have, fimple, fimple; a foolish extravagant fpirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehenfions, motions, revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occafion; but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Nath. Sir, I praise the lord for you, and fo may my parishioners; for their fons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you; you are a good member of the common-wealth. Hol. Mebercle, if their fons be ingenuous, they fhall want no inftruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But vir fapit, qui pauca loquitur i a foul feminine faluteth us. Enter Jaquenetta, and Coftard. Faq. God give you good morrow, mafter Parfon. Hol. Mafter Parfon, quafi Perfon. And if one fhould be pierc'd, which is the one? Coft. Marry, master school-mafter, he that is likeft to a hogshead. Hol. Of piercing a hogfhead, a good Luftre of conceit in a turf of earth, fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'Tis pretty, it is well. Jaq. Good mafter Parfon, be fo good as read me this letter; it was given me by Coftard, and fent me from Don Armatho. I beseech you, read it. K VOL. II. Нова Hol. Faufte, precor, gelidâ (21) quando pecus omne fub umbrâ Ruminat, and fo forth. Ah, good old Mantuan, I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice; Vinegia, Vinegia! qui non te vedi, ei non te pregia (22). Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee noti:-ut re fol la mi fa. Under pardon, Sir, what are the contents? or rather, as Horace fays in his: What! my foul! verses? (23) Nath. Áy, Sir, and very learned. Hol. Let me hear a staff, a ftanza, a verse; Lege, Domine. Nath. If love make me forfworn, how fhall I fwear to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd; Though to my felf forfworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like ofiers bow'd. Study his biafs leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuffice; Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend. ར (21) Nath. Faufte, precor, gelida] Tho' all the Editions concur to give this Speech to Sir Nathaniel, yet, as Dr. Thirlby ingenioufly obferv'd to me, it is evident, it must belong to Holofernes. The Curate is employ'd in reading the Letter to himself; and while he is doing so, that the Stage may not ftand ftill, Holofernes either pulls out a Book ; or, repeating fome Verfes by heart from Mantuanus, comments upon the Character of that Poet. Baptifta Spagnolus, (firnamed Mantuanus, from the Place of his Birth ;) was a voluminous Writer of Poems, who flourish'd towards the latter End of the 15th Century. (22) Venechi, venache a, qui non te vide, i non te piaech.] Thus Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope, from the old blundering Editions. But that these Gentlemen, Poets, Scholars, and Linguifts, could not afford to restore this little Scrap to true Italian, is to me unaccountable. Our Author is applying the Praises of Mantuanus to a common proverbial Sentence, faid of Venice. Vinegia, Vinegia! qui non te vedi, ei non te pregia. Venice, Venice, he, who has never seen thee, has thee not in Esteem. (23) What! my Soul! Verfes ?] As our Poet has mention'd Horace, I prefame, he is here alluding to this Paffage in his I. Sermon. 9. Quid agis, dulciffime rerum ? All All ignorant that Soul, that fees thee without wonder ! Which is to me fome praife, that I thy parts admire; Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder; Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet fire. Celestial as thou art, Oh pardon, love, this wrong, That fings heav'n's praise with such an earthly tongue. Hol. You find not the Apoftrophes, and fo mils the accent. Let me fupervise the canzonet (24). Here are only numbers ratify'd (25); but for the elegancy, faci lity, (24) Let me fupervise the Cangenet.] If the Editors have met with any fuch Word, it is more than I have done, or, I believe, ever shall do. Our Author wrote Canzonet, from the Italian Word Canzonetto, a little Song. We meet with it in B. JonJon's Cynthia's Revells.. O! what a Call is there! I will have a Canzonet made with nothing in it but, Sirrah! and the Burthen shall be, I come. (25) Nath. Here are only Numbers ratified] Tho' this Speech has been all along plac'd to Sir Nathaniel, I have ventur'd to join it to the preceding Words of Holofernes; and not without Reason. The Speaker here is impeaching the Verses; but Sir Nathaniel, as it appears above, thought them learned ones: befides, as Dr. Thirlby obferves, almost every Word of this Speech fathers itself on the Pedant. So much for the Regulation of it; now, a little, to the Contents. And why indeed Nafo, but for fmelling out the odoriferous Flowers of Fancy? the jerks of Invention imitary is nothing. Sagacity with a Vengeance! I fhould be afham'd to own myself a piece of a Scholar, to pretend to the Task of an Editor, and to pass fuch Stuff as this upon the World for genuine. Who ever heard of Invention imitary? Invention and Imitation have ever been accounted two diftinct Things. The Speech is by a Pedant, who frequently throws in a Word of Latin amongst his English; and he is here flourishing upon the Merit of Invention, beyond That of Imitation, or copying after another. My Correction makes the Whole fo plain and intelligible, that, I think, it carries Conviction along with it. Again; So doth the Hound his Mafter, the Ape his Keeper, the tired Horse his Rider. The Pedant here, to run down Imitation, fhews that it is a Quality within the Capacity of Beafts: that the Dog and the Ape are taught to copy Tricks by their Mafter and Keeper; and fo is the tir'd Horse by his Rider. This laft is a wonderful Inftance; but it happens not to be true. Mr. Warburton ingenioufly faw, that the Author must have wrote the tryed Horfe his Rider. i. e. Óne, exercis’'d, and broke to the Manage: for he obeys every Sign, and Motion of the Rein, or of his Rider. This is not the only Paffage, where K 2 lity, and golden cadence of poefie, caret: Ovidius Nafo was the man. And why, indeed, Nafo; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention? imitari, is nothing: fo doth the hound his mafter, the ape his keeper, the try'd horfe his rider: But Damofella Virgin, was this directly to you? Jaq. Ay, Sir, from one Monfieur Biron, to one of the ftrange Queen's Ladies. Hol. I will overglance the fuperfcript. To the fnowwhite hand of the most beauteous lady Rofaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing, to the perfon written unto. Your Ladyship's in all defir'd employment, Biron. This Biron is one of the votaries with the King; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a fequent of the ftran ger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath mifcarry'd. Trip and go, my fweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; ftay not thy complement; I forgive thy duty adieu. Faq. Good Coftard, go with me. Sir, God fave your life. Coft. Have with thee, my girl. [Exe. Coft. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously and as a certain father faith Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; did they please you, Sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dine to day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if (being repaft) it shall please you to gratifie the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforefaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where will I prove where cur Author employs tryed in the Sense of, exercis'd, train'd. So in Two Gentlemen of Verona. And how he cannot be a perfect Man, Not being try'd, and tutour'd in the World. thofe those verses to be very unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your fociety. Nath. And thank you too : for fociety (faith the text) is the happiness of life. Hol. And, certes, the text moft infallibly concludes it. Sir, I do invite you too; [To Dull.] you fhall not fay me, nay: Pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone. Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am courfing my felf. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a pitch; pitch, that defiles; defile! a foul word: well, fet thee down, forrow; for fo they fay the fool said, and fo fay I, and I the fool. Well prov'd wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills theep, it kills me, I a fheep. Well prov'd again on my fide. I will not love; if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not love; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to rhime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhime, and here my melancholy. Well, fhe hath one o' my fonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool fent it, and the lady hath it: fweet clown, fweeter fool, sweetest lady! by the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan! [be ftands afide. King. Ay me! Enter the King. Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, fweet Cupid; thou haft thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, fecrets. King. [reads.] So fweet a kifs the golden fun gives not K 3 Nor |