O me, with what strict patience have I fat, King. Too bitter is thy jeft. Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view? Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd by you: I am betray'd, by keeping company King. Soft; whither away fo fast? A true man, or a thief, that gallops fo? Biron. poft from love; good lover, let me go. Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD. Jaq. God bless the King! King. What present haft thou there? Cof. Some certain treason. King. What makes treafon here; Cof. Nay, it makes nothing, fir. The treason, and you, go in peace away together. King. Biron, read it over. Where hadft thou it ? Jaq. Of Coftard. [He reads the letter. [6] 'Critic' and 'critical' are used by our author in the fame fenfe as 'cynic' and 'cynical.' STEEV. King. Where hadft thou it? Cof. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why doft thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it. Long. It did move him to paffion, and therefore let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. Biron. Ah, you whorefon loggerhead, you were born to do me fhame. Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confefs, I confefs. King. What? [To COST. Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mefs. He, he, and you; and you, my liege, and I, Are pick-purfes in love, and we deserve to die. Biron. True, true; we are four ; Will these turtles be gone? King. Hence, firs, away. Cof. Walk afide the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt COSTARD and JAQ Biron. Sweet lords, fweet lovers, O, let us embrace! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be ; The fea will ebb and flow, heaven will fhew his face : Young blood doth not obey an old decree. We cannot crofs the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands muft we be forfworn. King. What, did these rent lines fhew fome love of thine? Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who fees the heavenly Rofaline, That, like a rude and favage man of Inde, At the first opening of the gorgeous eaft, Bows not his vaffal head: and, ftrucken blind, Kiffes the base ground with obedient breast? What peremptory eagle-fighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty ? King. What zeal, what fury, hath inspir'd thee now? My love (her mistress) is a gracious moon! She (an attending ftar) scarce feen a light.[7] Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. O, but for my love, day would turn to night! Of all complexions the cull'd fovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity; Where nothing wants, that want itself doth feek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues; Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not: To things of fale a seller's praise belongs : She paffes praife; then praife too fhort doth blot. A wither'd hermit, fivefcore winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. No face is fair, that is not full fo black. It mourns, that painting, and ufurping hair, Should ravish doters with a false afpect; And therefore is the born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days; For native blood is counted painting now: And therefore red, that would avoid difpraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweepers black. Long. And fince her time, are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. [7] Something like this is a stanza of fir Henry Wotton, of which the poetical reader will forgive the insertion. "Ye ftars, the train of night, "What are ye when the fun shall rise?" JOHNS. Dum. Dark needs no candle now, for dark is light. For fear their colours fhall be wash'd away. King. 'Twere good, yours did; for, fir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day here. The street should fee, as fhe walk'd overhead. Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there ;-some flattery for this evil, Long. O, fome authority how to proceed; Some tricks, fome quillets,[8] how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some falve for perjury. Biron. O, 'tis more than need !— Have at you, then, affection's men at arms :[9] And where that you have vow'd to study, lords, [8] Quillet' is the peculiar word applied to law-chicane. I imagine the original to be this, in the French pleadings, every feveral allegation in the plaintiff's charge, and every diftinct plea in the defendant's anfwer, began with the words qu'il eft ;'-from whence was formed the word 'quillet,' to fignify a falfe charge or an evasive answer. WARB. [9] A man at arms,' is a foldier armed at all points both offenfively and defenfively. It is no more than, Ye foldiers of affection. JOHNS. They are the ground, the book, the academes, The nimble fpirits in the arteries ;[1] Now, for not looking on a woman's face, [1] In the old fyftem of physic they gave the fame office to the arteries as is now given to the nerves. WARB. [2] i. e. A lady's eyes give a fuller notion of beauty than any author. JOHNS. [3] In leaden contemplation have found out Such fiery numbers -] Alluding to the discoveries in modern aftronomy; at that time greatly im proving, in which the ladies' eyes are compared, as usual, to ftars. He calls them 'numbers' alluding to the Pythagorean principles of aftronomy, which were founded on the laws of harmony. WARB. 'Numbers' are, in this paffage, nothing more than 'poetical measures." Could you,' fays Biron, by folitary contemplation, have attained fuch poetical fire, fuch fprightly numbers, as have been prompted by the eyes of beauty? The aftronomer, by looking too much aloft, falls into a ditch. JOHNS. |