sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable; some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world: but let that pass.-The very all of all is, but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy,-that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or fire-work. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance. HOL. Sir, you shall present before her the nine worthies.-Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies. NATH. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them? HOL. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules. ARM. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club. HOL. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose. MOTH. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake! that is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it. ARM. For the rest of the worthies ? HOL. I will play three myself. MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman! HOL. We attend. * ARM. We will have, if this fadgea not, an antic. I beseech you, follow. DULL. Nor understood none neither, sir. HOL. Allons! we will employ thee. DULL. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay. HOL. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away. [Exeunt. Fadge. This word is from the Anglo-Saxon feg-an-to join together, and thence, to fit, to agree. Somner gives this derivation, and explains that things will not fadge when they cannot be brought together, so as to serve to that end whereto they are designed. In Warner's 'Albion's England' we have this passage, which is quoted in Mr. Richardson's valuable Dictionary:— "It hath been when as hearty love Did treat and tie the knot, Though now, if gold but lack in grains, The wedding fadgeth not." SCENE II.—Another part of the same. Before the Princess's Pavilion. Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA. PRIN. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in: A lady wall'd about with diamonds! Look you, what I have from the loving king. Ros. That was the way to make his godhead wax2; KATH. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd your sister. And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Ros. Look, what you do; you do it still i' the dark. • To wax-to grow; as we say, the moon waxeth. The seal and the wax form a pun too good to be called pardonable. He. The folio has the more comic a. Mouse. So 'Hamlet,' Act III., Scene 4, "call you his mouse." Set of wit. Set is a term used at tennis. I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter! PRIN. Anything like? Ros. Much, in the letters; nothing in the praise. PRIN. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion. KATH. Fair as a text B in a copy-book. Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter": O that your face were not so full of O's! PRIN. A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows! But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain? KATH. Madam, this glove. PRIN. Did he not send you twain? KATH. Yes, madam; and moreover, Some thousand verses of a faithful lover; A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity. MAR. This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville; PRIN. I think no less: Dost thou not wish in heart, O, that I knew he were but in by the week! So portent-like would I o'ersway his state, That he should be my fool, and I his fate. PRIN. None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Rosaline, it appears, was a brunette; Katharine fair, perhaps red-haired, marked with smallpox. Tieck says that, in the early alphabets for children, A was printed in red, B, as well as the remainder of the alphabet, in black; and thus the ladies jest upon their complexions. Rosaline twits Katharine that her face is marked with the small-pox; not so is omitted in the folio. The answer, which we now give to Katharine, is spoken by the Princess, in the original. • Not, which is wanting in the first folio, is inserted in the second. Behests. The quarto and first folio read devise. The correction, which is necessary for the rhyme, was made in the second folio. • Portent-like. The old copies read "pertaunt-like." Have we got the right word? Warburton explains portent-like by a paraphrase—“ I would be his fate, or destiny, and, like a portent, hang over and influence his fortunes." Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school; And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. MAR. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, Enter BOYET. PRIN. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. BOYET. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace? BOYET. Prepare, madam, prepare!— Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say. I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour; I stole into a neighbour thicket by, And ever and anon they made a doubt, Presence majestical would put him out; For," quoth the king, "an angel shalt thou see; Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously." The boy replied, "An angel is not evil; I should have fear'd her had she been a devil." With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder; Making the bold wag by their praises bolder. One rubb'd his elbow, thus; and fleer'd, and swore, A better speech was never spoke before: This was a correction by the editor of the second folio, instead of wanton's be. Another with his finger and his thumb, as I guess. To check their folly, passion's solemn tears. PRIN. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd:- And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despite of suit, to see a lady's face. Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, And then the king will court thee for his dear; Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine; And change your favours too; so shall your loves Ros. Come on then; wear the favours most in sight. Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace: And quite divorce his memory from his part. • The folio has "keeper's heart"-a typographical error, produced probably by an accidental transposition of the letters. The expression "kill the speaker's heart" reminds us of the homely pathos of Dame Quickly, with reference to Falstaff, "The king has killed his heart." ('Henry V., Act II., Scene 1.) |