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, Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the praife. Rof. 'Ware pencils. How? let me not die your 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. 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! And make him proud to make me proud with jefts: 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, 7 In former copies : 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. like. 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, 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 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; The boy reply'd, an Angel is not evil; I fhould have fear'd her, had the been a Devil.- Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be taskt; 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, Rofaline, this Favour thou fhalt wear, And change your Favours too; fo fhall your Loves Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours moft in fight. And mock for mock is only my intent. Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't? Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's And quite divorce his memory from his Part. Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown; And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame. [Sound. Boyet. The trumpet founds; be maskt, the mafkers come. [The Ladies mafk. SCENE |