Графични страници
PDF файл

have faved me my pains, to have taken it away your felf. She adds moreover, that you should put your Lord into a defperate Affurance, fhe will none of him. And one thing more, that you be never fo hardy to come again in his affairs, unlefs it be to report your Lord's taking of this: receive it so,

Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.

Mal. Come, Sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her will is, it should be fo return'd: if it be worth ftooping for, there it lyes in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her; what means this Lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her! She made good view of me; indeed, fo much, That, fure, methought' her eyes had loft her tongue; For fhe did speak in starts diftinctedly:

She loves me, fure; the cunning of her paffion

Invites me in this churlish meffenger.

None of my Lord's ring; why, he fent her none.

I am the man-If it be fo, (as, 'tis ;)

Poor Lady, the were better love a dream.
Difguife, I fee, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How eafie is it, for the

proper falfe

Her eyes bad LOST her tongue.] This is nonfenfe: we fhould read,

her eyes had CROST her tongue; Alluding to the notion of the fafcination of the eyes; the effects of which were called crof fing. WARBURTON. That the fafcination of the eyes was called croffing ought to have been proved. But however that be, the prefent reading has not only fenfe but beauty. We fay a man lofes his company when


[blocks in formation]

In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the caufe, not we,
For fuch as we are made, if fuch we be.
How will this fadge? my mafter loves her dearly,
And I, poor monfter, fond as much on him;
And fhe, miftaken, feems to dote on me.
What will become of this? as I am man,
My state is defperate for my mafter's love;
As I am woman (now, alas the day!)
What thriftless fighs fhall poor Olivia breathe?
O time, thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me t' unty.

Sir To.


Changes to Olivia's Houfe.

Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.


PPROACH, Sir Andrew: not to be

Aa-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes;

and Diluculo furgere, thou know'ft,

Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.

Sir To. A falfe conclufion: I hate it, as an unfill'd can; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life confift of the four elements?


Sir And. 'Faith, fo they fay; but 3, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.

The two next lines are perhaps tranfpofed, and should be read thus.

For fuch as we are made, if fuch we be,

Alas, our frailty is the caufe,

not we.

3 I think, it rather confifts of eating and drinking.] A ridicule on the medical theory of that. time, which fuppofed health to confift in the juft temperament and balance of thefe elements in the human frame. WARBURT.

Sir To. Th'art a fcholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria! I fay!-a ftoop of wine.

Enter Clown.

Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.

Clo. How now, my hearts? did you never fee the picture of we three?"

Sir To. Welcome, afs, now let's have a catch.

Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breaft. I had rather than forty fhillings I had fuch a leg, and fo fweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. In footh, thou waft in very gracious fooling last night, when thou fpok'ft of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians paffing the Equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith: I fent thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, hadft ita? Cla. I did impeticos thy gratility; for Malvolio's. nofe is no whip-tock. My Lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houfes.


Sir And. Excellent: why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a Song

Sir To. Come on, there's Six-pence for you. Let's have a Song.

Sir And. There's a teftril of me too; if one Knight give a

Clo. Would you have a Love-fong, or a Song of good life?

Sir To. A Love-fong, a Love-fong.

Sir And. Ay, ay, I care not for good life.

4 I fent thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, had'ft it ?] But the Clown was neither Pantler, nor Butler. The Poet's Word was certainly mistaken by the Ignorance of the Printer. I have reftor'd, leman, i. e. I fent thee Six-pence to spend on thy Mistress. THEO.

I did impeticos, &c.] This,

Sir T. Hanmer tell us, is the fame with impocket thy gratuity. He is undoubtedly right; but we must read, I did impetic at thy gratuity. The fools were kept in long coats, to which the allufion is made. There is yet much in this dialogue which i do not understand,


to day

Clown fings.

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
Oftay and hear, your true love's coming,
That can fing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty fweeting,
Journeys end in lover's meeting,
Every wife man's fon doth know.
Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith!
Sir To. Good, good.

Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter,
Prefent mirth hath prefent laughter,
What's to come, is ftill unfure:


"In delay there lyes no plenty,

*Then come kiss me, fweet, and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am a true Knight. Sir To. A contagious breath.

Sir And. Very fweet and contagious, i'faith.

Sir To. To hear by the nofe, it is dulcet in contagion. But fhall we make the welkin dance, indeed? Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three fouls out of one weaver? fhall we do that?


[blocks in formation]


[blocks in formation]

Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch.

Clo. By'r Lady, Sir, and fome dogs will catch well. Sir And. Moft certain: let our catch be, Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I fhall be conftrain'd in't, to call thee knave, Knight.

Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold thy peace.

Clo. I thall never begin, if I hold my peace.
Sir And. Good, i'faith: come, begin.

[They fing a catch".


Enter Maria.

Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? if my Lady have not call'd up her fteward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.

Sir To. My Lady's a Catayan, we are politicians, Malvolio's a' Peg-a-Ramfey, and Three merry men be we.

thor. Much ado about nothing. Now it is foul ravifhed. Is it not ftrange that Sheep's-guts should bale fouls out of men's bodies? Why, he fays, three fouls, is beCaufe he is fpeaking of a catch in three parts. And the peripatetic philofophy, then in vogue, very liberally gave every man three fouls. The vegetative or plaftic, the animal, and the rational To this, too, Johnson alludes, in his Poetafter; What, will I turn fkarke upon my friends? or my friends friends? I scorn it with my three fouls. By the mention of these three, therefore, we may suppose it was


[blocks in formation]
« ПредишнаНапред »