1

Rof. Great reafon; for paft Cure is ftill paft Care✨ Prin. Well bandied both; a fet of wit well play'd, But, Rofaline, you have a Favour too: Who fent it? and what is it?

Rof. I would, you knew.

And if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verfes too, I thank Biron.
The numbers true; and were the numbring too,
I were the fairest Goddess on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thoufand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in this letter.
Prin. Anything like?

Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the praife.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclufion.
Cath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

Rof. 'Ware pencils. How? let me not die your
debter,

My red dominical, my golden letter.

O, that your face was not fo full of Oes!

Cath. Pox of that jeft, and I befhrew all fhrews":
Prin. But what was fent to you from fair Dumain?
Cath. Madam, this glove.

Prin. Did he not fend you twain?

Cath. Yes, Madam; and moreover,

Some thoufand verfes of a faithful lover.

4 for taft Care is fill paft Cure.] The Tranfpofition which I have made in the two Words, Care and Cure, is by the Direction of the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. THEOBALD.

'Ware pencils] The former Editions read, were pencils. Sir T. Hanmer here rightly restored 'ware pencils. Rofaline, a black beauty, reproaches the fair Catharine for painting.

Pox of that jeft, and I be

forew all Shrews.] In former copies this line is given to the Princess; but as the has behav'd with great Decency all along, there 1S no Reason why she fhould ftart all at once into this coarse Dialect. Rofaline and Catharine are rallying one another without Referve; and to Catharine this firft Line certainly belong'd, and therefore I have ventur'd once more to put her in Poffefsion of it. THEOBALD.

A huge

A huge tranflation of hypocrify,

Vilely compil'd, profound fimplicity.

Mar. This, and thefe pearls, to me fent Longueville; The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no lefs; doft thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter fhort?

Mar. Ay, or I would thefe hands might never part. Prin. We are wife girls to mock our lovers for't. Rof. They are worfe fools to purchase mocking fo. That fame Biron I'll torture, ere I go.

O, that I knew he were but in by th' week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and feek,
And wait the feason, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootlefs rhimes,
And shape his fervice all to my behests,

And make him proud to make me proud with jefts:
So portent-like would I o'erfway his state',

That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wifdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

7 In former copies :
So PERTAUNT-like would I
d'er fway his ftate,
That he should be my Fool, and
I bis Fate.] In old farces,
to fhew the inevitable approaches
of death and destiny, the Fool
of the farce is made to employ
all his ftratagems to avoid Death
or Fate: Which very ftratagems,
as they are ordered, bring the
Fool, at every turn, into the ve-
ry jaws of Fate. To this Shake-
Speare alludes again in Measure for
Measure,

merely thou art Death's

Fool; For him thou labour' by thy flight to fhun,

And yet runs towards him fillIt is plain from all this, that the nonfenfe of pertaunt-like, fhould be read, portent-like i. e. I would be his fate or deftiny, and like a portent hang over, and influence his fortunes. For portents were not only thought to forebode, but to influence. So the Latins called a perfon destined to bring mischief, fatale porten

tum.

WARBURTON.
Mr. Theobald reads, fo Pedant-

like.
Thefe are obfervations wor-
thy of a man who has furveyed
human nature with the clofeft at-
tention.

Rof.

Rof. The blood of youth burns not in fuch excefs, As gravity's revolt to wantonnefs.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not fo ftrong a note,
As fool'ry in the wife, when wit doth dote:
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in fimplicity.

SCENE IV.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter; where's her Grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?

Boyet. Prepare, Madam, prepare:

Arm, wenches, arm; Encounters mounted are
Against your peace; love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be furpriz'd.
Mufter your wits, ftand in your own defence,
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis, to faint Cupid?! what are they,
That charge their breath against us? fay, fcout, fay.
Boyet. Under the cool fhade of a fycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes fome half an hour;
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd Reft,
Toward that fhade, I might behold, addrest
The King and his companions; warily
ftole into a neighbour thicket by:
And over-heard, what you fhall over-hear;
That, by and by, difguis'd they will be here.
Their Herald is a pretty knavish Page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embaffage.

9 Saint Dennis, to St. Cupid.] The Princess of France invokes, with too much levity, the patron

of her country, to oppofe his power to that of Cupid.

Action and accent did they teach him there;
Thus must thou fpeak, and thus thy body bear:
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Prefence majestical would put him out:
For, quoth the King, an Angel fhalt thou fee;
Yet fear not thou, but fpeak audaciously.

The boy reply'd, an Angel is not evil;

I fhould have fear'd her, had the been a Devil.-
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and fwore,
A better fpeech was never spoke before.
Another, with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd, via! 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 fuch a zealous laughter, fo profound,
That in this fpleen ridiculous appears *,
To check their folly, paffion's folemn tears.
Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparell'd thus,
Like Mufcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess'.
Their purpose is to parley, court and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his fev'ral mistress; which they'll know
By Favours fev'ral, which they did beftow.

Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be taskt;
For, ladies, we will every one be maskt:
And not a man of them fhall have the grace,
Defpight of fuit, to fee a lady's face.

Spleen ridiculous is, a ridiculous fit.

Like Mufcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess.] The fettling of commerce in Ruffia was, at that time, a matter that much ingroffed the concern and converfation of the publick. There had been feve

ral embaffies employed thither on that occafion; and several tracts of the manners and ftate of that nation written: So that a mask of Muscovites was as good an entertainment to the audience of that time, as a coronation has been fince.

WARBURTON,
Hold,

Hold, Rofaline, this Favour thou fhalt wear,
And then the King will court thee for his Dear:
Hold, take you this, my fweet, and give me thine;
So fhall Biron take me for Rofaline.

And change your Favours too; fo fhall your Loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by thefe removes.

Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours moft in fight.
Gath. 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 feveral councils they unbosom shall
To loves miftook, and fo be mockt withal,
Upon the next occafion that we meet,
With vifages difplay'd, to talk and greet.

Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't?
Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot;
Nor to their penn'd fpeech render we no grace:
But while 'tis fpoke, 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 reft will ne'er come in, if he be out.

There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown;
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
So fhall we ftay, mocking intended game;

And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame.

[Sound.

Boyet. The trumpet founds; be maskt, the mafkers

come.

[The Ladies mafk.

SCENE