think, I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know, I can do it.

Sir To. Poffefs us, poffefs us, tell us fomething of

him.

Mar. Marry, Sir, fometimes he is a kind of a Puritan.

Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquifite reafon, dear Knight.

Sir And. I have no exquifite reafon for't, but I have reafon good enough.

Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing conftantly but a time-pleaser; 7 an affection'd afs, that cons ftate without book, and utters it by great fwaths: the best perfuaded of himself: so cram'd, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work.

Sir To. What wilt thou do?

Mar. I will drop in his way fome obfcure epiftles of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expreffure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he fhall find himfelf moft feelingly perfonated. I can write very like my Lady your Neice; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make diftinction of our hands.

Sir To. Excellent, I fmell a device.

Sir And. I have't in my nofe too.

Sir To. He fhall think by the letters, that thou wilt drop, that they come from my Neice, and that the is in love with him.

Mar. My purpofe is, indeed, a horfe of that colour. Sir And. And your horfe now would make him an afs.

7 an affectioned as] Affectioned, for full of affectation.

Mar. Afs, I doubt not.

Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable.

Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know, my phyfick will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he fhall find the letter: observe his conftruction of it: for this night to bed, and dream on the event. Farewel.

Sir To. Good night, Penthifilea.

Sir And. Before me, fhe's a good wench.

[Exit.

Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me; what o'that?

Sir And. I was ador'd once too.

Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight: thou hadft need fend for more mony.

Sir And. If I cannot recover your Neice, I am a foul way out.

Sir To. Send for money, Knight; if thou haft her not i'th'end, call me cut.

Sir And. If I do not, never truft me, take it how you will.

Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome fack, 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, Knight; come, Knight. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Changes to the Palace.

Duke.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.

IVE me fome mufick; now, good mor-
row, friends:

Now, good Cefario, but that piece of fong,
That old and antique fong, we heard last night;
Methought, it did relieve my paffion much;
More than light airs, and recollected terms

8

8 recollected terms] Recollected, for ftudied.

Of

Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.

Come, but one verse.

Cur. He is not here, so please your Lordship, that fhould fing it.

Duke. Who was it?

Cur. Fefte, the jefter, my Lord, a fool that the Lady Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house.

Duke, Seek him out, and play the tune the while. [Ex. Curio. [Mufick Come hither, boy; if ever thou shalt love, In the fweet pangs of it, remember me s For fuch as I am, all true lovers are ; Unftaid and skittish 9 in all notions else, Save in the conftant image of the creature That is belov'd. How doft thou like this tune? Vio." It gives a very echo from the feat "Where love is thron'd.

Duke. Thou doft speak masterly.

My life upon't, young tho' thou art, thine eye
Hath ftaid upon fome favour that it loves:

Hath it not, boy?

Vio. A little, by your favour.

Duke. What kind of woman is't?

Vio. Of your complexion.

Duke. She is not worth thee then: What years, i'faith? Vio. About your years, my Lord.

Duke. "Too old, by heav'n; let ftill the woman

take

"An elder than her felf, fo wears the to him;
"So fways fhe level in her husband's heart.
For, boy, however we do praise our felves,

9 in all motions elfe,] The Folio reads notions, which is right.

1 It gives a very echo To the feat

Where love is thron'd.] We fhould read, FROM the feat: i. e. it reaches the throne of love, and reverberates thence.

Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,

More longing, wavering, fooner loft and worn,
Than women's are.

Vio. I think it well, my Lord.

Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy felf, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent:

For women are as rofes, whofe fair flower,
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
Vio. And fo they are: alas, that they are fo,
To die, even when they to perfection grow!

Enter Curio and Clown.

Duke. O fellow, come; the fong we had last night,— Mark it, Cefario, it is old and plain;

"The fpinsters and the knitters in the fun,

"And the free maids that weave their thread with

bones,

"Do use to chant it: it is filly footh,

"And tallies with the innocence of love,

"Like the old age.

Clo. Are you ready, Sir?

Duke. Ay; pr'ythee, fing.

SONG.

Come away, come away, death, "And in fad cyprefs let me be laid; "Fly away, fly away, breath,

"I am flain by a fair cruel maid.

"My browd of white, ftuck all with yew,

"O, prepare it.

"My part of death no one fo true

Did share it.

[Mufick.

7 And dallies with the innocence of love, Dallies has no ferife. We fhould read, TALLIES, .. agrees with; is of a piece with.

"Not

"Not a flower, not a flower fweet,
"On my black coffin let there be frown:
"Not a friend, not a friend greet

"My poor corps, where my bones fhall be thrown. "A thousand thousand fighs to fave,

"Lay me, O! where

"True lover never find my grave, "To weep there.

Duke. There's for thy pains.

Clo. No pains, Sir; I take pleafure in finging, Sir. Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then.

Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleasure will be paid one time or other.

Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.

Clo. Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the taylor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal! I would have men of fuch conftancy put to fea, that their business might be every thing, and their intent no where; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewel:

[Exit.

Duke. Let all the reft give place. Once more, Cefario,

Get thee to yond fame fovereign cruelty:

3 a very opal!] A precious ftone of almoft all colours.

Mr. Pope.

4 that their bufinefs might be every thing, and their intent EVERY where ;] Both the prefervation of the antithefis, and the recocovery of the sense, require we should read,and their intent NO where. Because a man who fuffers himself to run with every wind, and fo makes his business every where, cannot be faid to have any intent; for that word fignifies a determination of the mind to fomething. Befides, the conclufion of making a good voy age out of nothing, directs to this emendation.

L 4

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