And Neftor play at push-pin with the boys, Where lyes thy grief? O tell me, good Dumain; 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. With men, like men, of ftrange inconftancy. King. Soft, whither away fo faft? A true man or a thief, that gallops fo? Biron. I poft from love; good lover, let me go. Enter Jaquenetta and Coftard. Jaq. God bless the King! King. What Prefent haft thou there? Coft. Some certain treafon. King. What makes treafon here? The treason and you go in peace away together. King. Biron, read it over. Where hadft thou it? Faq. Of Coftard. King. Where hadft thou it? [He reads the letter. Coft. 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. [To Coftard. Guilty, my lord, guilty: I confefs, I confefs. King, What? Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess. 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: King. Hence, Sirs, away. Coft. Walk afide the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Coft. and Jaquen. Biron. Sweet lords, fweet lovers, O, let us imbrace : As true we are, as flesh and blood can be. The fea will ebb and flow, heaven will fhew his face: We cannot cross the cause why we were born: 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 caft) 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 infpir'd thee now? My love (her miftrefs) is a gracious moon; She (an attending ftar) fcarce feen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. Do meet, as at a Fair, in her fair cheek; Where nothing wants, that want it felf doth feek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues; Fie, painted rhetorick! O, the needs it not: To things of fale, a feller's praife belongs: She paffes praife; the praise too fhort doth blot. A wither'd hermit, fivefcore winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: Ánd gives the crutch the cradle's infancy; O, who can give an oath? where is a book, That I may fwear, Beauty doth beauty lack; If that the learn not of her eye to look? L No face is fair, that is not full fo black? King. O paradox, black is the badge of hell: The hue of dungeons, and the fcowl of night; (30) And beauty's creft becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils fooneft tempt, resembling fpirits of light: O, if in black my lady's brow be deckt, It mourns, that Painting and ufurping Hair Should ravish doters with a falfe afpect: And therefore is the born to make black fair. (29) Is Ebony like her? O Word divine!] This is the Reading of all the Editions, that I have feen: but both Dr. Thirlby and Mr. Warburton concurr'd in reading, (as I had likewife conjectur'd,) O Wood divine! black is the Badge of Hell; 1 (30) The bue of Dungeons, and the School of Night.] Black, being the School of Night, is a Piece of Mystery above my Comprehenfion. I had guess'd, it fhould be, the Stole of Night: but I have preferr'd the Conjecture of my Friend Mr. Warburton, as it comes nearer in Pronunciation to the corrupted Reading, as well as agrees better with the other Images. Her Her Favour turns the fashion of the days, Dum. To look like her, are chimney-fweepers black. Long. And fince her time, are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your miftreffes dare never come in rain, For fear their colours fhould be washt away. King. 'Twere good, yours did: for, Sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not washt to day : Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here. King. No devil will fright thee then fo much as fhe. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her Biron. O, if the ftreets were paved with thine eyes, Biron. Nothing fo fure, and thereby all forfworn. King, Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there; fome flattery for this evil. Long. O, fome authority how to proceed; Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil. Biron. O, 'tis more than need. Have at you then, Affection's Men at arms; (31) Con (31) Have at you then Affections. Men at Arms,] Thus Mr. Pope has pointed this Paffage in Both his Impreffions, not much to the Praise of his Sagacity. The third Edition in Folio began the Corruption of the Place in this Manner; Have at you then Affections, Men at Arms, Confider, what you firft did fwear unto: And where that you have vow'd to ftudy, (Lords) The nimble spirits in the arteries; which Mr. Rowe inadvertently follow'd. But we must certainly read, as I have reftor'd to the Text: Have at you then, Affection's Men at Arms; i. e. Love's Soldiers. The King fays, towards the Conclusion of this Scene; Saint Cupid, then! and, Soldiers, to the Field! for by giving Cupid as the Word, he would intimate that they fought under his Banner. Other |