Boyet reads.

BY heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible;

true, that thou art beauteous; truth it felf, that thou art lovely; more fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth it felf; have commiferation on thy heroical vaffal. The magnanimous and moft illuftrate King Cophetua fet eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly fay, veni, vidi, vici, which to anatomize in the vulgar, (O bafe and obfcure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, faw, and overcame; he came, one; faw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the King. Why did he come? to fee. Why did he fee? to overcome. To whom came he? to the beggar. What faw he? the beggar. Who overcame he? the beggar. The conclufion is victory; on whofe fide? the King's; the captive is inrich'd: on whofe fide? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whofe fide? the King's? no, on both in one, or one in both: I am the King, (for fo ftands the comparison) thou, the beggar, for fo witneffeth thy lowlinefs. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could. Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; for tittles? titles: for thy felf? me. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.

Thine in the dearest design of industry,

Don Adriano de Armado.

Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar

'Gainft thee, thou lamb, that ftandest as his prey i Submiffive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play.

But if thou ftrive (poor foul) what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repafture for his den.

Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this letter?

What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear

better?

Boyet.

Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the ftile. Prin. Elfe your memory is bad, going o'er it ere while.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in Court,

A phantafme, a monarcho, and one that makes sport To the Prince and his book-mates.

Prin. Thou, fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter?

Coft. I told you; my lord.

Prin. To whom should't thou give it?
Coft. From my lord to my lady.

Prin. From which lord to which lady?

Coft. From my lord Berown, a good mafter of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rofaline.

Prin. Thoù haft mistaken his letter. Come, lords,

away.

Here, fweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. [Exit Princess attended. Boyet. Who is the fhooter ? who is the fhooter? Rofa, Shall I teach you to know?

Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.

Rofa. Why, the that bears the bow. Finely put off. Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns: but if thou marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on.

Rofa. Well then, I am the fhooter.

Boyet And who is your Deer?

Rofa. If we chufe by horns, your felf; come not near. Finely put on, indeed.

Mar. You fill wrangle with her, Boyet, and she trikes at the brow.

Boyet. But the her felf is hit lower. Have I hit her now ?

Rofa. Shall I come upon thee with an old faying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it.

Boyet. So I may anfwer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Rofa.

Rofa. Thou can't not bit it, hit it, hit it.
Thou can'ft not hit it, my good man.
Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot ;
An I cannot, another can.

[Singing.

[Exit Rofa.

Coft. By my troth, moft pleasant; how both did

fit it.

Mar. A mark marvellous well fhot; for they both did hit it.

Boyet. A mark? O, mark but that mark! a mark, fays my lady;

Let the mark have a prick in't, to meet at, if it may be.

Mar. Wide o' th' bow-hand; i'faith, your hand is

out.

Coft. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.

Boyet. An if is in.

my hand be out, then belike
then belike your hand

Coft. Then will fhe get the upfhot by cleaving the pin.

Mar. Come, come, you talk greafily; your lips grow foul.

Coff. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir, challenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night, my good owl. [Exeunt all but Coftard. Coft. By my foul, a fwain; a moft fimple clown. Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, moft fweet jefts, moft incony vulgar wit, When it comes fo fmoothly off, fo obfcenely, as it were, fo fit.

Armado o' th' one fide,- O, a moft dainty man;
To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan.
To see him kifs his hand, and how moft fweetly he

will fwear :

And his Page o't'other fide, that handfull of Wit;
Ah, heav'ns! it is a moft pathetical Nit.

[Exit Coftard.

[Shouting

[Shouting within, Enter Dull, Holofernes, and Sir Nathaniel. Nath. Very reverend fport, truly; and done in the teftimony of a good Confcience.

Hol. The deer was (as you know) fanguis, in blood; ripe as a pomwater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of Calo, the sky, the welkin, the heav'n; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of Terra, the foil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, mafter Holofernes, the epithets are fweetly varied, like a scholar at the leaft: but, Sir, I affure ye, it was a buck of the firft head.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull. 'Twas not a baud credo, 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Moft barbarous intimation; yet a kind of infinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication; facere, as it were, replication; or rather, oftentare, to thow, as it were, his inclination; after his undreffed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or rathereft unconfirmed fashion, to infert again my baud credo for a deer.

Dull. I faid, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice fod fimplicity, bis coctus; O thou monfter ignorance, how deformed doft thou look?

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in a book. He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an animal, only fenfible in the duller parts; (20) and such barren plants are set before

(20) And fuch barren Plants are fet before us, that we thankful fhould be; which we taste, and feeling are for thofe Parts that do fructify in us more than he.] If this be not a ftubborn Piece of Nonfenfe, I'll never venture to judge of common Senfe. That Editors fhould take fuch Paffages upon Content, is, furely, furprifing. The Words, 'tis plain, have been ridiculously, and ftupidly, transpos'd and corrupted. The Emendation I have offer'd, I hope, reftores the Author; At least, I am fure, it gives him Senfe and Grammar: and anfwers extremely well to his Metaphors taken from planting. Ingradare, with the Italians, fignifies, to rife higher and higher; andare di grado in grado, to make a Progreffion; and fo at length come to frudify, as the Poet exprefies it. Mr. Warburton.

us,

us,

that we thankful fhould be for those parts, (which we tafte and feel, ingradare) that do fructify in us, more than He.

For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet,

or a fool

So were there a patch fet on learning, to fee him in a school.

But omne bene, fay I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind. Dull. You two are book-men; can you tell by your wit,

What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dittynna, good-man Dull; Dictynna, good-man Dull.

Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phabe, to Luna, to the Moon.

Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam was

no more:

And rought not to five weeks, when he came to fivefcore.

Th' allufion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true, indeed; the collufion holds in the exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I fay, the allufion holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I fay, the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old; and I fay befide, that 'twas a pricket that the Princess kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the Princefs kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good mafter Holofernes, perge; fo it fhall please you to abrogate fcurrility.

Hol. I will fomething affect the letter; for it argues facility.

The praifeful Princefs pierc'd and prickt

A pretty pleafing pricket.

Some fay, a jore; but not a fore,

'Till now made fore with fhooting.

The