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Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in Court,

A phantafme, a monarcha, and one that makes sport To the Prince, and his book-mates.

Prin. Thou, fellow, a word;

Who gave thee this letter?
Caft. I told you; my lord.

Prin. To whom fhouldst thou give it?
Coft. From my lord to my lady.

Prin. From which lord to which lady?

Coft. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rofaline.

Prin. Thou haft mistaken this letter, Come, lords,


Here, fweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princefs attended.
Boyet. Who is the fhooter? who is the fhooter?
Rof. Shall I teach you to know?

Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.

Rof. Why, the that bears the bow. Finely put off.
Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns: but if thou


Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on.-

Rof. Well then, I am the fhooter.

Boyet. And who is your Deer?

Rof. If we chufe by horns, yourself; come not near.

Finely put on indeed.-

Mar, You will wrangle with her,

ftrikes at the brow.

Boyet. But the herfelf is hit lower.


Boyet, and she

Have I hit her.

Rof. Shall I come upon thee with an old faying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?


a monarcho,] Sir T. Hanmer reads, a mammuccio. Come, lords, away.] 4

Perhaps the Princefs faid rather Come, ladies, away.--The rcft of the scene deserves no care.


Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Quinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Rof. Thou can't not hit it, hit it, hit it. [Singing. Thou can't not hit it, my good man.

Boyet. An' I cannot, cannot, cannot ;

An I cannot, another can.

[Exit Rof. Caft. By my troth, moft pleafant; how both did

fit it.

Mar. A mark marvellous well fhot; for they both did hit it.

Boyet. A mark? O, mark but that mark! a mark, fays my lady;

Let the mark have a prick in't; to meet at, if it may


Mar. Wide o'th bow-hand; i'faith, your hand is


Coft. Indeed, a'muft fhoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.

Boyet. An' if my hand be out, then, belike, your hand is in.

Coft. Then will fhe get the upfhot by cleaving the pin.

Mar. Come, come, you talk greafily; your lips grow foul.

Coft. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir, challenge her to bowl.

Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night my good owl. [Exeunt all but Coftard. Coft. By my foul, a fwain; a moft fimple clown! Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweet jefts, most incony vulgar wit, When it comes fo fmoothly off, so obfcenely; as it were, fo fit.

Armado o' th' one fide-O, a moft dainty man;
To feek him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan.
To fee him kifs his hand, and how moft fweetly he
will fwear:


And his Page o' t'other fide, that handful of Wit;
Ah, heaven's! it is a moft pathetical Nit.


[Exit Coftard, [Shouting within,

"Enter Dull, Holofernes, and Sir Nathanael. Nath. Very reverend fport, truly; and done in thè teftimony of a good Confcience.

Hol. The deer was (as you know) fanguis, in blood; ripe as a pomwater, who now hangeth like a jewel in

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goofe flies,

Unclaim'd of any man. The place before us feems to be an exception. For by Holofernes is defigned a particular character, a pedant and fchoolmaster of our author's time, one John Florio, a teacher of the Italian tongue in London, who has given us a fmall dictionary of that language under the title of A world of words, which in his Epiftle Dedicatory he tells us, is of little lefs value than Stephens's treaJure of the Greek tongue, the moft compleat work that was ever yet compiled of its kind. In his preface, he calls thofe who had criticized his works Sea dogs or Land-critics; Monsters of men, if not beafts rather than men; whofe teeth are canibals, their toongs addars-forks, their lips afpes poifon, their eyes bafilifkes, their breath

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the breath of a grave, their words like fordes of Turks that frive which shall dive deepest into a Chriftian lying bound before them. Well therefore might the mild Nathanael defire Holofernes to abrogate fcurrility. His profeffion too is the reafon that Holofernes deals fo much in Italian fentences. There is an edition of Love's Labour's loft, printed 1598, and faid to be prefented before her Highness this laft Christmas 1597. The next year 1598, comes out our. John Florio with his World of Words, recentibus odiis; and in the preface, quoted above, falls upon the comic poet for bringing him on the stage. There is another fort of leering curs, that rather fnarle than bite, whereof I could inftance in one, who lighting on a good fonnet of a gentleman's, a friend of mine, that loved better to be a poet than to be counted fo, called the author a Rymer. -Let Ariftophanes and his comedians make plaies, and fcowre their mouths on Socrates; thofe very mouths they make to vilife fall be the means to amplifie his virtue, &c. Here Shakespeare is fo plain

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the ear of Calo, the fky, the welkin, the heav'n; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of Terra, the foil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, mafter Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a fcholar at the leaft; but, Sir, I affure ye, it was a buck of the first head.

Hol. Sir Nathanael, haud credo.

Dull. "Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Moft barbarous intimation; yet a kind of infinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication;

ly marked out as not to be mif. taken. As to the funnet of The Gentleman his friend, we may be affured it was no other than his own. And without doubt was parodied in the very fonnet beginning with The praifeful Prinefs, &c. in which our author makes Holophernes fay, He will fomething affect the letter; for it argues facility. And how much John Florio thought this affecta. tion argued facility, or quicknefs of wit, we fee in this preface where he falls upon his enemy, H. S. His name is H. S. Da not take it for the Roman H. S. unless it be as H. S. is twice as much and an half, as half an AS. With a great deal more to the fame purpofe; concluding his preface in thefe words, The refolute John Florio. From the ferocity of this man's temper it was, that Shakespeare chofe for him the name which Rablais gives to his Pedant of Thubal Holoferne. WARBURTON.

I am not of the learned commentator's opinion, that the fatire of Shakespeare is fo feldom perfonal. It is of the nature of perfonal invectives to be foon un intelligible; and the author that

are now

gratifies private malice, animam fin vulnere ponit, destroys the fu ture efficacy of his own writings, and facrifices the efteem of fucceeding times to the laughter of a day. It is no wonder, therefore, that the farcafms which, perhaps, in the author's time, fet the playhoufe in a roar, loft among general reflections, Yet whether the character of Holofernes was pointed at any parti cular man, I am, notwithstanding the plaufibility of Dr. Warburton's conjecture, inclined to doubt. Every man adheres as long as he can to his own pre conceptions. Before I read this note confidered the character of Ho lofernes as borrowed from the Rhombus of Sir Philip Sidney, who, in a kind of paftoral entertainment exhibited to Queen Eliza beth, has introduced a fchoolmafter fo called, fpeaking a leafh of languages at once, and puzzling himself and his auditors with a jargon like that of Holofernes in the prefent play. Sidney himfelf might bring the character from Italy; for, as Peacham obferves, the Schoolmafter has long been one of the ridiculous perfonages in the farces of that country.


facere, as it were, replication; or rather, oftentare, to how, as it were, his inclination; after his undressed, unpolifhed, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or rathereft unconfirmed fashion, to infert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I faid, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice fod fimplicity, bis coctus; O thou monfter ignorance, how deformed doft thou look?

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in a book. He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an animal, only fenfible in the duller parts; And fuch barren plants are fet before us, that we thankful fhould be,

Which we taste and feeling are for thofe parts that do fructify in us, more than He.


and fuch barren plants are fet before us, that we thankful Should be; which we tafte, and feeling are for thofe parts that do fructify in us more than he.] The Words have been ridiculously, and ftupidly, tranfpos'd and corrupted. I read, we thankful Should be for thofe parts (which we tafte and feel ingradare) that do fructify, &c. The emendation I have offer'd, I hope, reftores the author: At least, it gives him fenfe and grammar and answers extremely well to his metaphors taken from planting. Ingradare, with the Italians, fignifies, to rife higher and higher; andare di grado in grado, to make a progreffion; and fo at length come to fructify, as the poet expreffes it.


Sir T. Hanmer reads thus, And fuch barren plants are fet before us, that we thankful fhould


For those parts which we tafie

and feel do fructify in us more than be.

And Mr. Edwards, in his animadverfions on Dr. Warburton's notes, applauds the emendation. Ithink both the editors mistaken, except that Sir T. Hanmer found the metre, though he miffed the fenfe. Iread, with a flight change, And fuch barren plants are fet before us, that we thankful bould be;

When we tafte and feeling are for those parts that do fructify in us more than be. That is, fach barren plants are exhibited in the creation, to make us thankful when we have more tafe and feeling than he, of those parts or qualities which produce fruit in us, and preferve us from being likewife barren plants Such is the fenfe, juft in itself and pious, but a little clouded by the diction of Sir Nathanael.


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