Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

The dogs did yell ; put L to foren

Then forel jumpt from thicket z
Or pricket fore, or else forel,

The people fall a hooting.
If fore be fore, then L to fore

Makes fifty fores, O forel !
Of one fore I an hundred make;

By adding but one more Li
Nath. A rare talent!
Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him
with a talent.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple ; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions; revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion; but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it:

Nath. Sir, I praise the lord for you, and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you ; you are a good member of the common-wealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, they shal) want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But vir Sapit, qui pauca loquitur i a foul feminine faluteth us.

Enter Jaquenetta, and Costard.
Faq. God give you good morrow, master Parson.

Hol. Master Parson, quasi Person. And if one should be pierc'd, which is the one?

Coft. Marry, master school-master, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead, a good Lustre of conÀ ceit in a turf of earth, fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine : 'Tis pretty, it is well.

Jaq. Good master Parson, be so good aš read me this letter ; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatbo. I beseech you, read it. Vol. II.

K

Hol

[ocr errors]

Hol. Fauste, precor, gelida (21) quando pecus omne sub

umbrâ Ruminat, and so 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 (22). Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee noti:- ut re sol la mi fa. Under pardon, Sir, what are the contents ? or rather, as Horace says in his : What! my soul! verses? (23)

Nath. Ay, Sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a ftaff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, Domine. Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear

to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd; Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like ofiers

bow'. Study his biass leaves, and makes his book thine eyes ; Where all those pleasures live, that. art would com

prehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall fuffice; Well learned is that congue, that well can thee

commend.

(21) Nath. Faufte, precor, gelida ] Tho' all the Editions concur to give this Speech to Sir Nathaniel, yet, as Dr. Thirlby ingeniously observ'd to me, it is evident, it must belong to Holofernes. The Curate is employ'd in reading the Letter to himself; and while he is doing fo, that the Stage may not stand still, Holofernes either pulls out a Book ; or, repeating some Verses by heart from Mantuanus, comments upon the Character of that Poet. Baptifta Spagnolus, (firnamed Mantuanus, from the Place of his Birth ;) was a voluminous Writer of Poems, who flourish'd towards the latter End of the 15th Century.

(22) Venechi, venache a, qui non te vide, i non te piqech.] Thus Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope, from the old blundering Editions. But that these Gentlemen, Poets, Scholars, and Linguists, could not afford to restore this little Scrap to true Italian, is to me unaccountable. Our Author is apply. ing the Praises of Mantuanus to a common proverbial Sentence, said of Venice. Vinegia, Vinegia! qui non te vedi, ei non te pregia. O Venice, Venice, he, who has never seen thee, has thee not in Esteem.

(23) What!, my Soul! Verses?) As our Poet has mention'd Horace, I prefume, he is here alluding to this Passage in his I. Sermon. 9. Quid agis, dulciffime rerum?

All

All ignorant that Soul, that sees thee without wonder ! Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts ad

mire; Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dread

ful thunder Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet fire: Celestial as thou art, Oh pardon, love, this wrong; That sings heav'n's praise with such an earthly tongue. Hol. You find not the Apostrophes, and so mils the ac

Let me supervise the canzonet (24). Here are only numbers ratify'd (25); but for the elegancy, faci

lity

cent.

(24) Let me supervise the Cangenét.) If thë Editors have met with any such Word, it is more than I have done, or, I believe, ever shall do. Our Author wrote Canzonet, from the Italian Word Canzonetto, a little Song. We meet with it in B. Jonson's Cynthia's Revells..

Õ! what a Call is there! I will have a Canzonët made with nothing in it but, Sirrah! and the Burthen shall be; I come.

(25) Nath. Here are only Numbers ratified ;] Tho this Speech has been all along plac'd to Sir Nathaniel, I have ventur'd to join it to the preceding Words of Holofernes; and not without Reason. 'The Speaker here is impeaching the Verses; but Sir Nathaniel, as it appears above, thought them learned ones : besides; as Dr. Thirlby observes, almost every Word of this Speech fathers itself on the Pedart. So much for the Regulation of it; now, a little, to the Contents.

And why indeed Nafo; but for smelling out the odoriferous Flowers of Fancy ? the jerks of Invention imitary is nothing,

Sagacity with a Vengeance ! I should be asham'd to own myself a piece, of a Scholar, to pretend to the Task of an Editor, and to pass such Stuff as this upon the World for genuine. Who ever heard of Invention imitary? Invention and Imitation have ever been accounted two distinct Things. The Speech is by a Pedant, who frequently throws in a Word of Latin amongst his English and he is here flourishing upon the Merit of Invention, beyond That of Imitation, or copying after another. My Correction makes the Whole fo plain and intelligible, that, I think, it carries Conviction along with it. Again; So dộth the Hound his Mafter, the Ape his Keeper, the tired Horse his

Rider. The Pedant here, to run down Imitation, shews that it is a Quality within the Capacity of Beasts : that the Dog and the Ape are taught to copy Tricks by their Master and Keeper ; and so is the tir'd Horse by his Rider. This last is a wonderful Inftance; but it happens not to be true. Mr. Warburton ingeniously faw, that the Author must have wrote the tryed Horse bis Rider. i. e. One, exércis’d, and broke to the Manage: for he obeys every Sign, and Motion of the Rein, or of his Rider. This is not the only Passage,

where

K 2

lity, and golden cadence of poesie, caret : Ovidius Naso was the man. And why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention? imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the try'd horse his rider: But Damosella Virginia was this directly to you?

Jaq. Ay, Sir, from one Monsieur Biron, to one of the Itrange Queen's Ladies.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snowwhite hand of the most beauteous lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing, to the person written

unto.

Your Ladyship's in all desir'd employment, Biron. This Biron is one of the votaries with the King ; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a sequent of the stranger Queen’s, which accidentally, or by the way

of

progreffion, hath miscarry'd. Trip and go, my sweet ; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; stay not thy complement ; I forgive thy duty : adieu.

Jaq. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life.

Coft. Have with thee, my girl. [Exe. 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 not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; 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 shall please you to gratifie the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforesaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where will I prove where cur Author employs tryed in the Sense of, exercis d, train'd. So in Two Gentlemen of Verona.

And how he cannot be a perfect Man,
Not being try'd, and tutaur'd in the World,

those

those verses to be very unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your society.

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

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

[Exeunt. Enter Biron, with a paper in his band, alone. Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am coursing my self. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a pitch ; pitch, that defiles ; defile! a foul word: well, set thee down, sorrow; for so they say the fool said, and fo say I, and I the fool. Well prov'd wit.

By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep. Well prov'd again on my side. 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 cyes. 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 rhime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhime, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest 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 grace to groan!

[be stands aside. Enter the King. King. Ay me!

Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, secrets. King. [reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their freth rays have smote The night of dew, that on my cheeks down flows ;

Nor

K 3

« ПредишнаНапред »