For thou doft fear the foft and tender fork Do curfe the Gout, Serpigo, and the Rheum, For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor age; (15) But as it were an after-dinner's fleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy bleffed youth Of palfied Eld; and when thou'rt old and rich, "The (15) Thou haft nor Youth, nor Age; &c.] Mr. Warburton has given me a Correction of, and Paraphrafe on, this and the fubfequent Lines; which fhews so fine a Spirit, that, tho' I have not ventur'd to difturb the Text, I muft not deprive my Readers of it."Drift of this Period, you fee, is to prove, that neither Youth, nor Age, " is really enjoy'd: which, in poetical Language is, We have neither "Youth, nor Age. But how is This prov'd? That Age is not enjoy'd, "he makes appear by recapitulating the Infirmities of it, which deprive "old Age of the Sente of Pleasure. To prove Youth is not enjoy'd, he "ufes thefe Words; for all thy bleffed Youth becomes as aged, and doth beg the Alms of palfied Eld. Out of which, he that can deduce the "Proof, erit mihi magnus Apollo." Undoubtedly, if we would know how the Author wrote, we must read. 66 - for, pall'd, thy blazed Youth Becomes afluaged; and doth beg the Alms "i. e. When thy youthful Appetite becomes pall'd, as it will be, in the "Enjoyment; the Blaze of Youth becomes affuaged, and thou immedi ately contract'ft the Infirmities of Age; as, particularly, the Palfie, "and other nervous Infirmities; the Confequence of the Enjoyment of "fenfual Pleafure. This is to the Purpofe; and proves Youth is not en"joy'd, by fhewing the fleeting Duration of it. "" Thou Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty Claud. I humbly thank you. To fue to live, I find, I feek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on. Enter Ifabella. Ifab. What, ho? peace here: grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? come in: the wifh deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear Sir, ere long I'll vifit you again. Claud. Moft holy Sir, I thank you. Ifab. My Bufinefs is a word, or two, with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. Look, Signior, here's your fifter. Duke. Provost, a word with you. Prov. As many as you please. Duke. Bring them to fpeak where I may be conceal'd, Yet hear them. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Claud. Now, fifter, what's the comfort? Ifab. Why, as all comforts are; moft good in Deed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heav'n, Intends you for his fwift ambaffador; Where you shall be an everlasting leiger. Therefore your beft appointment make with speed, Claud. Is there no remedy? Ifab. None, but fuch remedy, as to fave a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Claud. But is there any? Ifab. Yes, brother, you may live: There is a devilish mercy in the judge, If you'll implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you 'till death. Claud. Perpetual durance? Ifab. Ay, juft; perpetual durance; a reftraint, Tho' all the world's vaftidity you had, To a determin'd scope. Claud. But in what nature? Ifab. In fuch a one, as you, confenting to't, Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked. Claud. Let me know the point. Ifab Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Claud. Why give you me this fhame? Ifab. There fpake my brother; there my father's grave Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou muft die: Thou art too noble to conferve a life In bafe appliances. This outward-fainted Deputy, Nips youth i'th' head; and follies doth emmew, Claud. The Princely Angelo? Ifab. Oh, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, In Princely guards. Doft thou think, Claudio, Thou might'ft be freed? Claud. Oh, heavens! it cannot be. Ifab. Yes, he would give't thee; from this rank offence So So to offend him ftill. This night's the time Claud. Thou shalt not do't. Ifab. Oh, were it but my life, Claud. Thanks, dearest Isabel. Ifab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to morrow. That thus can make him bite the law by th' nofe, Or of the deadly feven it is the leaft. Ifab. Which is the leaft? Claud. If it were damnable, he being fo wife, Ifab. What fays my brother? Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where: To lye in cold obftruction, and to rot; This fenfible warm motion to become That (16) The wearieft, and moft loathed aworldly Life,] This natural Feat of Claudio, from the Antipathy we have to Death, seems very little varied from that infamous With of Macenas recorded in the 101ft Epiftk of Seneca. Debilem facito manu, That age, ach, penury, imprisonment Ifab. Alas! alas! Claud. Sweet fifter, let me live; What fin you do to fave a brother's life, Ifab. Oh you beast! Oh faithlefs coward! oh dishoneft wretch Is't not a kind of inceft, to take life From thine own fifter's fhame? what fhould I think? Ne'er iffu'd from his blood. Take my defiance, Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel. Ifab. Oh, fie, fie, fie! Thy fin's not accidental, but a trade; Claud. Oh hear me, Isabella. To them, Enter Duke and Provost. Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young fifter; but one word. Ifab. What is your will? Duke. Might you difpenfe with your leifure, I would by and by have fome fpeech with you: the fatisfaction I would require, is likewife your own benefit. Ifab. I have no fuperfluous leifure; my stay muft be Vita, dum fupereft, bene eft. Hanc mihi, vel acutâ Si fedeam cruce, fuftine. VOL. I. Mr. Warburton. A a ftolen |