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Cry'd, vin! we will do't, come what will come.
the third he caper'd and cry'd, all goes well:
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, fo profound, (437
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, paffion's solemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?

Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel’d thus,
Like Muscovites, or Ruffans, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parley, court and dance ;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours sev'ral, which they did befow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be taskt;
For, Ladies, we will every one be mafkt:
"And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despight of suite, to fee a Lady's face.
Hold, Rofaline ; 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 ;
So shall 'Biron take me for Rosaline.
And change your favours too; fo fhall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Rafa. Come on then, wear the favours most in sight.
Cath. But in this changing, what is your intent?

Prin. Th' effect of my intent is to cross theirs ;.
They do it but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several councils they unborom shall
(43) With such a zealous laughter, lo profound,

That in this spleen ridiculous appears,

To check their folly, pasions, olemn tears.]
As Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have writ and stop'd this passage, 'tis
plain, they gave themselves no pains to understand the author's mean-
ing Tho' for the rhyme-lake, we have a verb singular following a
substantive plural, yet this is what Shakespeare would say; “ They
“ cry'd as heartily with laughing, as if the deepest grief had been the
bi motite"'. So before, in Midsummer Nigbi's Dream.

Made mine eyes water, but more merry tears
The pasion of loud laugbler never thed.


To loves mistook, and fo be mockt withal,
Upon the next occasion that we meet
With visages display'd to talk and greet.

Rola. But Mall we dance, if they desire ús to't ?

Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot ; Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face.

Boyet. Why,that contempt will kill the speaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such fport, as (port by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own; So fhall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mockt, depart away with shame. (Sound.

Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be markt, the makers come.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and Aztendants, disguis'd like Muscovites; Moth, with

Musick, as fora masquerade.
Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth !
Boyet. Beauties, no richer than rich taffata. (44)

Moth. A holy parcel of the faireft dames,
That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views.

{The Ladies turn their backs to him. Biror. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.

Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out

Biron. True ; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold.

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

(44) Biron. Beauties, no richer than rich taffata.] All the editars concur to give this line to Birun; but, surely, very absurdly: for he's one of the zealous admirers, and hardly would make such an inference, Boyer is sneering at the parade of their address, is in the secret of the Ladies Stratagem, and makes himself sport at the absurdity of their proëm, in compļimenting their beauty, when they were mask'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost propriety.


Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyesWith your fun-beamed eyes--

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it daughter-beamed eyes.

Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. Biron. Is this your perfectness ? be gone, you rogue.

Roja. What would these ftrangers? know their minds,
If they do speak our language, "tis our will [Boyet.
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know, what they would.

Boyet. What would ou with the Princess ?
Biron. Nothing, but peace and gentle visitation.
Roja. What would they, say they?
Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation.
Roja. Why, that they have ; and bid them so be gone.
Boyet. She says, you have it; and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd

many miles, To tread a measure with her on the grais.

Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this graís. Rofa. It is not so. Ask them, how many

inches Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many, The measure then of one is easily told.

Bryet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles, And many

miles; the Princess bids you tell, How many inches doth fill up one mile?

Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
Boyet. She hears herself.

Rosa. How many weary steps
Of many weary miles, you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile

Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to Mew the sunshine of your face,
That we (like savages) may worship it.

Rofa. My face is but a moon and clouded too.

King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds remov’d) upon our watery eyne.


Rofa. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter;
Thou now request'st but moon-shine in the water.

King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change;
Thou bid'st me beg, this begging is not strange,

Rofa. Play, musick, then; nay, you must do it foon.
Not yet? no dance? thus change I, like the moon.

King. Will you not dance? how come you thuseftrang'?
Rofa. You took the moon at full, but now she's chang’d.

King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. (45)
The musick plays, vouchsafe fome motion to it.

Rofa. Our ears vouchsafe it.
King. But your legs should do it.

Rosa. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,
We'll not be nice; take hands; we will not dance.

King. Why take you hands then!

Rofa. Only to part friends;
Curt'sy, sweet hearts, and so the measure ends.

King. More measure of this measure ; be not nice.
Roja. We can afford no more at such a price.
King. Prize yourselves then; what buys yourcompany?
Roja. Your absence only.
King. That can never be.

Rosa. Then cannot we be bought; and so, adieu ;
Twice to your visor, and half once to you.

King. If you deny to dance, lei's hold more chat.
Rofa. In private then.
King. I am best pleas’d with that.
Biron.White-handed mistress,one sweet word with thee.
Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar, there is three,

(45) King. Yet fill she is the moon, and I the man.
Rosa. The mufick plays, vouchlafe scine notion to it;

Our ears viuchsafe it.]
This verse, about the man in the moon, I verily believe to be fpurious,
and an interpolation: because, in the first place, the conceit of it is
not pursued; and then it entirely breaks in upon the chain of the
couplets, and has no rhyme to it. However, I have not ventur'd to
cashier it. The ad verse is given to Rosaline, but very absurdiy.
The King is intended to solicit the Princess to dance; but the Ladies
had beforehand declar'd their resolutions of not complying. is evi-
dent therefore, that it is the King, who should importune Refaline,
whom he mistakes for the Princess, to dance with him.
Vol. II.



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Biron. Nay then, two treys; and if you grow so nice, Methegline, wort, and malmsey; well run, dice: There's half a dozen sweets.

Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu ; .
Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

Biron. One word in secret.
Prin. Let it not be sweet.
Biron. Thou griev'it my gall.
Prin. Gall? bitter. -
Biron. Therefore meet.
Dim. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word ?
Mar. Name it.
Dum. Fair Lady

Mar. Say you so ? fair Lord:
Take that for your fair Lady.

Dum. Please it you;
As much in private ; and I'll bid adieu.

Cath. What, was your vizor made without a tongue?
Long. I know the reason, Lady, why you ask.
Cath. O, for your reason ! quickly, Sir; I long.

Long. You have a double tongue within your masks, And would afford my speechless vizor half.

Cath. Veal, quoth the Dutch man; is not veal a calf ?
Long. A calf, fair Lady?
Cath. No, a fair Lord-calf.
Long. Let's part the word.

Cath. No, I'll not be half;
Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.

Long. Look, how you buttyourselfin these sharp mocks! Will you give horns, chaste Lady? do not so.

Cath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Cath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you cry.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge, invincible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen:

Above the fenfe of fense, so sensible Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings ; Fleeterthan arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. Rofa. Notone word more,my maids; break off,break off.



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