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And confciences, that will not not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongu'd Boyet.

King. A blitter on his fweet tongue with my heart,
That put Armado's Fage out of his Part!
Enter the Princefs, Rofaline, Maria, Catharine, Boyet,
and attendants.

Biron. See, where it comes; behaviour, what wert

'Till this man shew'd thee? and what art thou now?
King. All hail, fweet Madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair in all hail is foul, as I conceive.
King Conftrue my fpeeches better, if you may.

Prin. Then with me better, I will give you leave.
King. We come to vifit you, and purpose now

To lead you to our Court; vouchsafe it then.
Prin. This field fhall hold me, and fo hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.
King. Rebuke me not for That, which you provoke;
The vertue of your eye must break my oath.


"ftrate this Rule by the Example before us. A very complaifant, "finical, over-gracious Perfon was in our Author's time fo commonly "call'd a Flower, (or as he elsewhere ftyles it, the Pink of Courtefie,) "that in common Talk, or in the lowest Style, it might be well used, "without continuing the Discourse in the Terms of that Metaphor, but turning them on the Perfon fo denominated. And now I will give "the Reason of my Rule. In the lefs-ufed Metaphors, our Mind is "fo turn'd upon the Image which the Metaphor conveys, that it expects that that Image should be for a little time continued, by "Terms proper to keep it up. But if, for want of these Terms, the Image be no fooner prefented, but dropt; the Mind fuffers a "kind of Violence by being call'd off unexpectedly and fuddenly "from its Contemplation: and from hence the broken, disjointed, and "mixt Metaphor fhocks us. But when the Metaphor is worn and hackney'd by common Ufe, even the first Mention of it does not raife in the Mind the Image of it felf, but immediately prefents the "Idea of the Subftance: And then to endeavour to continue the I


mage, and keep it up in the Mind by proper adapted Terms, "would, on the other hand, have as ill an Effect; because the Mind "is already gone off from the metaphorical Image to the Subftance. "Grammatical Criticks would do well to confider what has been here "faid, when they fet upon amending Greek and Roman Writings. "For the much-ufed, hackney'd Metaphors in thofe Languages must now be very imperfectly known and confequently, without great "Caution, they will be fubject to act temerariously.



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Prin. You nick-name virtue; vice you fhould have

spoke :

For virtue's office never breaks mens troth.
Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unfully'd lilly, I proteft,

A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house's guest :
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heav'nly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in defolation here,

Unseen, unvifited, much to our fhame.
Prin. Not fo, my lord; it is not fo, I swear;
We have had paftimes here, and pleasant game.
A mefs of Ruffians left us but of late.
King How, Madam? Ruffians?
Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord;

Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.
Rofa. Madam, fpeak true. It is not fo, my lord:
My lady (to the manner of the days)
In courtefie gives undeferving praise.
We four, indeed, confronted were with four,
In Ruffian habit: here they ftay'd ́an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thirfty, fools would fain have drink.

Biron. This jeft is dry to me. Fair, gentle, fweert,
Your wit makes wife things foolish; when we greet
With eyes beft seeing heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light; your capacity
Is of that nature, as to your huge store
Wife things feem foolish, and rich things but poor.
Rofa. This proves you wife and rich; for in my eye---
Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Rofa. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to fnatch words from my tongue. Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I poffels. Rofa. All the fool mine?

Biron. I cannot give you lefs.

Rofa. Which of the vizors was it, that you wore?


M 3

Biron. Where? when? what vizor? why demand
you this?

Rofa. There, then, that vizor, that fuperfluous

That hid the worse, and fhew'd the better face.
King. We are defcried; they'll mock us now down-

Dum. Let us confefs, and turn it to a jeft.
Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? why looks your Highness

Rofa. Help, hold his brows, he'll fwoon: why look you pale?

Sea-fick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

Biron. Thus pour the ftars down plagues for Perjury.
Can any face of brafs hold longer out?
Here ftand I, lady, dart thy skill at me;

Bruife me with fcorn, confound me with a flout,
Thruft thy fharp wit quite through my ignorance;
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Ruffian habit wait.
O! never will I trust to fpeeches pen'd,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue
Nor never come in vizor to my friend,

Nor woo in rhime like a blind harper's fong; Taffata-phrafes, filken terms precife,

Three-pil'd hyperboles, fpruce affectation. Figures pedantical, thefe fummer-flies,

Have blown me full of maggot oftentation, I do forfwear them; and I here proteft,

By this white glove, (how. white the hand, God

Henceforth my wooing mind fhall be exprest
In ruffet yeas, and honeft kerfie noes:
And to begin, wench, fo God help me, law,
My love to thee is found, fans crack or flaw.
Rofa. Sans, fans, I pray you.
Biron. Yet I have a trick

Of the old rage: bear with me, I am fick.
I'll leave it by degrees: foft, let us fee;

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Write, Lord have mercy on us, on those three;
They are infected, in their hearts it lyes;
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
These lords are vifited, you are not free;
For the lord's tokens on you both I fee.

Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens

to us.

Biron. Our ftates are forfeit, feek not to undo us. Rofa. It is not fo; for how can this be true, That you ftand forfeit, being those that fue? Biron. Peace, for I will not have to do with Rofa. Nor fhall not, if I do as I intend. Biron. Speak for your felves, my wit is at an end. King. Teach us, fweet Madam, for our rude tranfgreffion


Some fair excuse.

Prin. The fairest is confeffion. 1

Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?

King. Madam, I was.

Prin. And were you well advis'd?
King. I was, fair Madam.

Prin. When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?

King. That more than all the world I did respect her.

Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.

King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin. Peace, peace, forbear:

Your oath once broke, you force not to forfwear.
King. Defpife me, when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Rofaline,
What did the Ruffian whisper in your ear?

Rofa. Madam, he fwore, that he did hold me dear
As precious eye fight; and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto moreover,
That he would wed me, or elfe die my lover.

Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word.

M 4


King. What mean you, Madam? by my life,my troth, I never swore this lady fuch an oath.

Rofa. By heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, Sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did fhe wear:
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my Dear,
What? will you have me? or your pearl again?

Biron, Neither of either: I remit both twain.
I fee the trick on't; here was a confent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment)
To dafh it like a Christmas comedy.

Some carry-tale, fome please-man, fome flight zany,
Some mumble-news, fome trencher-knight, fome Dick,
That smiles his cheek in jeers, and knows the trick (48)
To make my lady laugh, when fhe's difpos'd,
Told our intents before; which once difclos'd,
The ladies did change Favours, and then we,
Following the figns, woo'd but the sign of the:
Now to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forfworn, in will and error.
Much upon this it is. And might not You [To Boyet.
Foreftal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by th' fquier,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye,

And ftand between her back, Sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jefting merrily?

You put our Page out: go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a fmock fhall be your fhrowd.
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye
Wounds like a leaden fword.

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Boyet. Full merrily

Hath this brave Manage, this Career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting ftrait. Peace, I have done.

(48) That fmiles his Cheek in years,] Thus the whole Set of Impreffious but I cannot for my Heart comprehend the Sense of this Phrase. I am perfwaded, I have reftor'd the Poet's Word and Meaning. Boyer's Character was That of a Fleerer, jeerer, mocker, carping Blade.


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