Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?

Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd;

Tho' to myself forfworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like ofiers bow'd.

Study his biafs leaves, and makes his book thine eyes;

Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuffice;

Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend.

All ignorant that Soul, that fees thee without wonder:

Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder;

Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire.

Celestial as thou art, Oh pardon, love, this wrong, That fings heav'n's praise with such an earthly tongue.

Here are

Hol. You find not the Apoftrophes, and fo mifs the accent. * Let me fupervise the canzonet. only numbers ratify'd; but for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poefy, caret: Ovidius Nafo was the man. And why, indeed, Nafo; but for fmelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention? imitari, is nothing: † fo doth the hound his

Let me fupervife, &c.] The common Editions give this Speech to Nathaniel. Dr. Thirlby reftores it rightly to Holofernes.

† fo doth the hound his mafter, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider.] The Pedant here, to run down Imitation, shews that it is a Quality

his mafter, the ape his keeper, the try'd horse his rider: But Damofella Virgin, was this directly to you? Jaq. Ay, Sir, from one Monfieur Biron, to one of the ftrange Queen's Ladies.

Hol. I will overglance the fuperfcript. To the fnowwhite hand of the most beauteous lady Rofaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written

too.

Your Ladyship's in all defir'd employment, Biron.

This Biron is one of the votaries with the King; and here he hath fram'd a letter to a fequent of the ftranger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath miscarry'd. Trip and go, my fweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; ftay not thy compliment ; forgive thy duty: adieu.

I

Jaq. Good Coftard, go with me. Sir, God fave your life.

Cot. Have with thee, my girl.

[Exeunt Coft. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously: and as a certain father faith.

Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; did they please you, Sir Nathaniel?

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if (being repaft) it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my

not to be true.

within the Capacity of Beafts: That the Dog and the Ape are taught to copy Tricks by their Master and Keeper; and fo is the tir'd Horse by his Rider. This laft is a wonderful Inftance; but it happens The Author must have wrote---the tried Horfe his Rider: i. e. one, exercis'd, and broke to the Manage: For he obeys every Sign, and Motion of the Rein, or of his Rider. So in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, the Word is used in the Sense of trained, exercised.

privilege I have with the parents of the aforesaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where will I prove thofe verfes to be very unlearned, neither favouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I befeech your fociety.

Nath. And thank you too: for fociety (faith the text) is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text moft infallibly concludes it. Sir, I do invite you too; [To Dull.] you fhall not fay me, nay: Pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our re[Exeunt.

creation.

Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone. Biron. THE King is hunting the deer, I am courTHE fing myfelf. They have pitcht a toil, I am toiling in a pitch; pitch, that defiles; defile! a foul word: well, fet thee down, forrow; for fo they fay the fool faid, and fo fay I, and I the fool. Well prov'd wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax, it kills theep, it kills me, I a fheep. Well prov'd again on my fide. I will not love; if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not love; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to rhime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhime, and here my melancholy. Well, The hath one o' my fonnets already; the clown bore it; the fool fent it, and the lady hath it: fweet clown, sweeter fool, fweeteft lady by the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan. [He ftands afide.

Enter

King. Ay me!

Enter the King.

Biron. Shot, by heav'n! proceed, fweet Cupid; thou haft thumpt him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith, fecrets.

King. [reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden fun gives

not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rofe, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have fmote The night of dew, that on my cheeks down flows;

Nor fhrines the filver moon one half fo bright,
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
Thou shin'ft in every tear that I do weep;
No drop, but as a coach doth carry thee,
So rideft thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that fwell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will fhew;
But do not love thyself, then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O Queen of Queens, how far doft thou excel !
No thought can think, no tongue of mortal tell.-

How fhall fhe know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, fhade folly. Who is he comes here? [The King fteps afide.

Enter Longaville.

What! Longaville! and reading! liften, ear.
Biron. Now in thy likeness one more fool appears.
Long. Ay me! I am forfworn.

Biron. Why, he comes in like a Perjure, wearing

papers.

King. In love, I hope; fweet fellowship in fhame. Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name. Long. Am I the firft, that have been perjur'd fo?

C

Biron. I could
I know;

put

thee in comfort: not by two that

Thou mak'ft the triumviry, the three-corner-cap of
fociety,

The fhape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up fimplicity.
Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to

move:

O fweet Maria, Emprefs of my love,

These numbers will I tear, and write in profe. Biron. O, rhimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hofe :

Disfigure not his flop.

Long. The fame fhall go.

[He reads the fonnet.

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye

(Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument)
Perfuade my heart to this falfe perjury,

Vows, for thee broke, deferve not punishment:
A woman I forfwore; but I will prove,

Thou being a goddess, I forfwore not thee.
My vow was earthy, thou a heav'nly love:

Thy grace being gain'd, cures all difgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is;
Then thou fair fun, which on my earth dost shine,
Exhalft this vapour-vow; in thee it is;

If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
If by me broke, what fool is not fo wife
To lofe an oath to win a Paradife?

Biron. This is the liver-vain, which makes flesh a
deity;

A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend, we are much out o' th'

way.

Enter Dumain.

Long. By whom fhall I fend this ?-company?

ftay.