*

Ruminat, and fo forth. Ah, good old Mantuan I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice; Vinegia, Vinegia! qui non te vedi, ei non te pregia. Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! who understandeth thee not, loves thee not:-ut re fol la mi fa. Under pardon, Sir, what are the contents? Or rather, as Horace fays in his: What! my foul! verfes?

Nath. Ay, Sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verfe; Lege, Domine.

Nath. If love make me forfworn, how fhall I swear to love?

Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd; Tho' to myself forfworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me are oaks, to thee like ofiers bow'd.

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuffice;

Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend.

-All ignorant that foul, that fees thee without wonder:

Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder;

Which, not to anger bent, is mufic, and fweet

fire.

Celestial as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, That fings heav'n's praife with fuch an earthly tongue.

Hol. You find not the apoftrophes, and fo mifs the accent. Let me fupervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratify'd; but for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poefy, caret: Ovidius Nafo was the

P 3

He means Baptifta Spagnolus, furnamed Mantuanus from the place of his birth, a writer of poems, who lived towards the end of the fifteenth century.

the man. And why, indeed, Nafo; but for fmelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention? imitari, is nothing: fo doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the try'd horse his rider. But, Damofella Virgin, was this directly to you?

Jaq. Ay, Sir, from one Monfieur Biron, to one of the ftrange Queen's ladies.

Hol, I will overglance the fuperfcript. To the fnowwhite hand of the most beauteous Lady Rofaline. 1 will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the perfon written

unto.

Your Ladyfhip's in all defired employment, BIRON.

This Biron is one of the votaries with the King; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a fequent of the stranger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath miscarry'd. Trip and go, my fweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; ftay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty: adieu. with me. Sir, God fave your

life.

Jaq. Good Coftard, go

Coft. Have with thee, my girl.

[Exeunt Coft. and Jaq. Nath. Sir you have done this in the fear of God very religiously and as a certain father faith

Hol. Sir, tell me not of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verfes; did they please you, Sir Nathaniel?

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if (being repaft) it fhall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforefaid child or pupil, undertake ben venuto; where will I thofe verfes to be veprove ry unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invenI beseech your fociety.

your

tion.

Nath. And thank you too: for fociety (faith the text) is the happinefs of life.

Hol.

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir, I do invite you too; [To Dull.] you fhall not say me, Nay: Pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone.

Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am courfing myself. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a pitch; pitch, that defiles; defile! a foul word: well, fet thee down, forrow; for fo they say the fool faid, and fo fay I, and I the fool. Well prov'd wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills fheep, it kills me, I a fheep. Well prov❜d again on my fide. I will not love; if I do. hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not love; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, fhe hath one o' my fonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool fent it, and the lady hath it: fweet clown, fweeter fool, fweeteft lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper; God give him to groan. [He flands afide.

grace

King. Ay me!

Enter the King.

Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, fweet Cupid; thou haft thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, fecrets.

King. [reads] So fweet a kifs the golden fun gives

not

To thofe fresh morning-drops upon the rofe,

As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew, that on my cheeks down flows;
Nor fhines the filver moon one half fo bright,

Through the tranfparent bofom of the deep,

As

As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
Thou fhin'ft in every tear that I do weep;
No drop, but as a coach doth carry thee,
So rideft thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that fwell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will shew;
But do not love thyfelf, then thou wilt keep
My tears for glaffes, and ftill make me weep.
O Queen of Queens, how far doft thou excel!
No thought can think, no tongue of mortal tell.——

How fhall the know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? [The King fteps afide.

Enter Longaville.

What! Longaville! and reading! liften, ear.
Biron. Now in thy likeness one more fool appears.
Long. Ay me! I am forfworn.

Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
King. In love, I hope; fweet fellowship in fhame.
Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name.
Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd fo?
Biron. I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I
know;

Thou mak'ft the triumviry, the three-corner-cap of fociety,
The shape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up fimplicity.

Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to move: O fweet Maria, Emprefs of my love,

Thefe numbers will I tear, and write in profe.

Biron. O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hofe: Disfigure not his flop.

Long. The fame, fhall go.

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine

[He reads the fonnet.

eye

('Gainft whom the world cannot hold argument) Perfuade my heart to this false perjury?

Vows, for thee broke, deferve not punishment:
A woman I forfwore; but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forfwore not thee.

My

My vow was earthy, thou a heav'nly love:

Thy grace being gain'd, cures all difgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is;
Then thou fair fun, which on my earth doft fhine,
Exhalf this vapour-vow; in thee it is;

If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
If by me broke, what fool is not fo wife
To lofe an oath to win a paradife?

Biron. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity;

A green goofe a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.

God amend us, God amend, we are much out o' th' way.

Enter Dumain.

Long. By whom fhall I fend this?

ftay.
Biron. All hid, all hid, an old infant play;
Like a demy-god, here fit I in the sky,
And wretched fools' fecrets headfully o'er-eye:
More facks to the mill! O heav'ns, I have my
Dumain transform'd, four woodcocks in a dish?
Dum. O moft divine Kate!

company;

wish;

Biron. O most profane coxcomb!

[afide.

Dum. By heav'n, the wonder of a mortal eye!

Biron. By earth, fhe is but corporal; there you lie.

[afide.

Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted.

Biron, An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.

Lafide.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.

Biron. Stoop, I fay;

Her fhoulder is with child.

[afide.

Dum. As fair as day.

Biron. Ay, as fome days; but then no fun must shine.

Eafide.