Cry'd, via! we will do't, come what will come.
I he 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, (43)
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 apparel'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 feveral miftrefs; which they'll know
By favours fev'ral, which they did beftow.

Prin. And will they fo? the gallants fhall be taskt;
For, Ladies, we will every one be maskt:
And not a man of them fhall have the grace,
Defpight of fuite, 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 fweet, and give me thine;
So fhall Biron take me for Rosaline.

And change your favours too; fo fhall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Rofa. Come on then, wear the favours moft in fight.
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 unbosom shall

(43) With fuch a zealous laughter, fo profound, That in this pleen ridiculous appears,

To check their folly, paffions, jolemn tears.]

As Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have writ and ftop'd this paffage, 'tis plain, they gave themselves no pains to understand the author's meaning Tho' for the rhyme-fake, we have a verb fingular following a fubftantive plural, yet this is what Shakespeare would fay; "They "cry'd as heartily with laughing, as if the deepest grief had been the < motive". So before, in Midsummer Night's Dream. Made mine eyes water, but more merry tears The paffion of loud laughter never shed.

To

To loves miftook, and fo be mockt withal,
Upon the next occafion that we meet
With vifages difplay'd to talk and greet.

Rofa. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot; Nor to their pen'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 fport, as fport 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 fhame. [Sound. Boyet. The trumpet founds; be mafkt, the mafkers come.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and Attendants, difguis'd like Mufcovites; Moth, with Mufick, as for a masquerade.

Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties, no richer than rich taffata. (44)
Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames,
That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views.

The Ladies turn their backs to him.

Biron. 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 editors concur to give this line to Biron; but, furely, very abfurdly: for he's one of the zealous admirers, and hardly would make fuch an inference. Boyet is fneering at the parade of their addrefs, is in the fecret of the Ladies ftratagem, and makes himself sport at the abfurdity of their proëm, in complimenting their beauty, when they were mafk'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost propriety.

Moth.

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

Beyet. They will not anfwer to that epithet;. You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes.

Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. Biren. Is this your perfectnefs? be gone, you rogue. Roja. What would thefe ftrangers? know their minds, If they do fpeak our language, 'tis our will [Boyet.

That fome plain man recount their purposes.
Know, what they would.

Boyet. What would ou with the Princess?
Biron. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation.
Roja. What would they, fay they?

Bayet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation.
Roja. Why, that they have; and bid them fo be gone.
Boyet. She fays, you have it; and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have meafur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with her on the grafs.

Boyet. They fay, that they have meafur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this graís.

Rofa. It is not fo. Afk them, how many inches Is in one mile: if they have meafur'd

'I he measure then of one is easily told.

many,

Boyet. If to come hither you have meafur'd miles, And many miles; the Princefs bids you tell,

How many inches doth fill up one mile ?

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

Rofa. 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 fpend for you;

Our duty is fo rich, fo infinite,

That we may do it ftill without accompt.

Vouchfafe to fhew the funfhine of your face,

That we (like favages) may worship it.

Rofa. My face is but a moon and clouded too. King. Bleffed are clouds, to do as fuch clouds do. Vouchfafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Thofe clouds remov'd) upon our watery eyne.

Rofa.

Rofa. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter; Thou now request'ft but moon-fhine in the water. King. Then in our meafure vouchfafe but one change; Thou bid'ft me beg, this begging is not ftrange.

Rofa. Play, mufick, 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 thus eftrang'd? Rofa. You took the moon at full, but now he's chang'd. King. Yet ftill fhe is the moon, and I the man. (45) The mufick plays, vouchfafe fome motion to it. Rofa. Our ears vouchsafe it.

King. But your legs fhould do it.

Rofa. Since you are ftrangers, 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'fy, fweet hearts, and fo the measure ends.

King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rofa. We can afford no more at such a price.

King. Prize yourselves then; what buys your company?
Rofa. Your abfence only.

King. That can never be.

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

King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
Rofa. In private then.

King. I am beft pleas'd with that.

Biron.White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
Prin. Honey, and milk, and fugar, there is three.

(45) King. Yet fill fhe is the moon, and I the man.

Rofa. The mufick plays, vouchsafe fome motion to it;

Our ears vouchsafe it.]

This verfe, about the man in the moon, I verily believe to be fpurious, and an interpolation: becaufe, in the first place, the conceit of it is not purfued; 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 cafhier it. The 2d verfe is given to Rofaline, but very abfurdly. The King is intended to folicit the Princefs to dance; but the Ladies had beforehand declar'd their refolutions of not complying. It is evident therefore, that it is the King, who fhould importune Refaline, whom he mistakes for the Princefs, to dance with him.

VOL. II.

Biron. Nay then, two treys; and if you grow fo nice, Methegline, wort, and malmfey;-well run, dice: There's half a dozen fweets.

Prin. Seventh fweet, adieu;

Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

Biron. One word in fecret.

Prin. Let it not be sweet.

Biron. Thou griev't my gall.

Frin. Gall? bitter.

Biron. Therefore meet.

Dim. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? Mar. Name it.

Dum. Fair Lady

Mar. Say you fo? 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 reafon, Lady, why you afk. Cath. O, for your reafon! quickly, Sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my fpeechlefs 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 your half;

Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.

Long. Look, how you buttyourfelf in thefe sharp mocks! Will you give horns, chafte Lady? do not fo.

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

Cutting a fmaller hair than may be feen:

Above the fenfe of fenfe, fo fenfible

Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, fwifter things. Rofa. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.