How I would make him fawn, and beg, and feek, And make him proud to make me proud with jefts: Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Rofa. The blood of youth burns not in fuch excess, Mar. Folly in fools bears not fo strong a note, Enter Boyet. Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Prin. Thy news, Bøyet? Boyet. Prepare, madam, prepare. Arm, wenches, arm; Encounters mounted are Prin. Saint Dennis, to faint Cupid! what are they, (42) So pertaunt like would I o'erfaway his State,] If the Editors are acquainted with this Word, and can account for the Meaning of it, their Industry has been more fuccessful than mine, for I can no where trace it. So pedant like, as I have ventur'd to replace in the Text, makes very good Senfe, i. e. in fuch lordly, controlling, manner would I bear Myfelf over him, &c. What Biron fays of a Pedant, towards the Conclufion of the 2d Act, countenances this Conjecture. A domineering Pedant o'er the boy," Boyet. Boyet. Under the cool fhade of a fycamore, That well by heart hath conn'd his embaffage. I fhould have fear'd her, had the been a Devil. Cry'd, via! we will do't, come what will come. To check their folly, paffion's folemn tears. (43) With fuch a zealous Laughter, so profound, That in this Spleen ridiculous appears, To check their Folly, paffions, folemn tears.] As Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have writ and flop'd this Paffage, 'tis plain, they gave themselves no Pains to understand the Author's Meaning. Tho' for the Rhyme-fake, we have a Verb fingular following a Subftantive plural, yet This is what Shakespeare would fay; "They cry'd as heartily with laughing, as if the deepeft Grief had been the Motive". So before, in Midfummer Night's Dream. ९ Made mine Eyes water, but more merry tears Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us? Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Mofcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess. Their purpose is to parley, court and dance; Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be taskt; Hold, Rofaline; this Favour thou shalt wear, And change your Favours too; fo fhall Rofa. Come on then, wear the Favours moft in fight. Rofa. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot; Nor to their pen'd fpeech render we no grace: But while 'tis fpoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why,that contempt will kill the Speaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his Part. Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown; And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame. [Sound. come. Enter Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and attendants, difguis'd like Mofcovites; Moth with Mufick, as for a masquerade. Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth! [The ladies turn their backs to him.' Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out Biron. True; out, indeed. Moth. Out of your favours, beav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold. Biron. Once to behold, rogue. Moth. Once to behold with your fun-beamed eyes With your fun-beamed eyes Boyet. They will not answer to that epithete; You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue. Rofa. What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet. If they do fpeak our language, 'tis our Will Boyet. What would you with the Princess? Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation. gone. : (44) Biron. Beauties, no richer than rich Taffata.] All the Editors concur to give this Line to Biron; but, furely, very abfurdly for he's One of the zealous Admirers, and hardly would make fuch an Inference. Boyet is fneering at the Parade of their Addrefs, is in the fecret of the Ladies Stratagem, and makes himself Sport at the Abfurdity of their Proëm, in complimenting their Beauty, when they were mask'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost Propriety. Boyet. Boyet. She fays, you have it; and you may be gone. King. Say to her, we have meafur'd many miles, To tread a measure with her on the grass. Boyet. They fay, that they have measur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass. Rofa. It is not fo. Ask them, how many inches Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles, Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. Boyet. She hears her self. Rofa. How many weary steps Of many weary miles, you have o’ergone, Biron. We number nothing that we spend for That we may do it ftill without accompt. too. moon you; and clouded King. Bleffed are clouds, to do as fuch clouds do. Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy ftars, to shine (Those clouds remov'd) upon our watery eyne. Rofa. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moon-fhine in the water. King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change; Thou bid'ft me beg, this begging is not strange. Rofa. Play, mufick, then; nay, you must do it foon. Not yet? no dance? thus change I, like the moon. King. Will you not dance? how come you thus eftrang'd? Rofa. You took the moon at full, but now fhe's chang'd. |