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And I to be a corporal of his file, (18)
(Exit (18) And I to be a corporal of bis field,
And wear bis colours like a tumbler's hoop!] A corporal of a field is quite a new term: neither did the tumblers ever Adorn their boops with ribbands, that I can learn : for those were not carried in parade about with them, as the fencer carries his sword: Nor, if they were, is the fimilitude at all pertinent to the case in hand. But to stoop like a tumbler agrees not only with that profeffion, and the Servile condescensions of a lover, but with what follows in the context. What mified the wise transcribers at first, seems this: When once the tumblr appear’d, they thought, his boop must not be far behind.
A C T III. . SCENE, a Pavilion in the Park near the
Enter the Princess, Rofaline, Maria, Catharine, Lorda,
Attendants, and a Forefter.
Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Who e'er he was, he shew'd a mounting mind. Well, Lords, to-day we shall have our difpatch: On Saturday we will return to France. Then Forefter, my friend, where is the bush, That we must stand and play the murderer in?
For. Here by, upon the hedge of yonder coppice; A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot :
Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair, that shoot : And thereupon thou speak't the faireft shoot.
For, Pardon me, madam: for I meant not fo.
Prin. What, what? first praise me, then again fay, no? O hort-liv'd pride! not fairi alack, for woe!
For. Yes, madarn, fair.
Prin. Nay, never paint me now ;
For. Nothing but fair is that, which you inherit.
Prir. See, lee, my beauty will be fav'd by merit.
If wounding, then it was to fhew my skill;
Boyet. Do not curft wives hold that self-sovereignty
Prin. Only for praise ; and praise we may afford To any Lady, that subdues her Lord.
Enter Costard. Boyet, Here comes a member of the commonwealth.
Coft, God dig-you-den all ; pray you, which is the head Lady?
Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the reft that have no heads.
Coff. Which is the greatest Lady, the higheft?
Coft. The thickest and the talleft? it is fo, truth is truth.
will ? Coft. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one Lady
Rofaline. Prin. Othy letter, thy letter: he's a good friend of mine. Stand afide, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve; (19)
(19) Boyet, you can carve;,
Break up this capon.) i. e. open this letter. Our poet uses this metaphor, as the Frencb do their poulet ; which fig. nifies both a young fow), and a love letter. Poulet, amatoria littera; says Richelet ; and quotes from Voiture, repondre au plus obligeant poulet du monde ; to reply to the most obliging letter in the world. The Italians use the same manner of expression, when they call a love-epiftle, una pollicetta amorosa. I ow'd the hint of this equivocal use of the word to my ingenious friend Mr. Biphop. I observe in Weftwardboe, a comedy
Prin. We will read it, I swear.
i true, that thou art beauteous ; truth itself, that thou art lovely; more fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself; have commiseration on thy heroical vastal. The magnanimous and most illustrate King Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon ; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici ; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (o base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame ; he camc, one ; faw, two ; overcame, three.
Who came ? the King. Why did he come ? to see. Why did he see? to overcome. То whom came he ? to the beggar. What saw he? the beggar. Who overcame her the beggar. The conclufion is victory; on whose fide ? the King's; the captive is enrich'd: on whose fide? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial : on whose fide ? the King's? no, on both in one, or one in both : I am the King, (for so stands the comparison) thou the beggar, for lo witnesseth 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 thyself ? 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 deareft design of industry,
Don Adriano de Armado. written by a contemporary with our author, that one of these letters is likewise call’d a wild-fowl, Act. 2. Sc. 2.
At the skirt of that Theet in black work is wrought his name. Break not up the wild-fowl till anon, and then feed upon him in private.
Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar
prey ; Submiffive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play.
Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this
Boyet. I am much deceiv'd, but I remember the stile.
Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court,
Prin. Thou, fellow, a word :
thee this letter?
Coft. From my Lord Berown, a good master of mine,
Prin. Í hou hast mistaken his letter. Come, Lords, away.
[Exit Princess attended.
Roja. Well then, I am the shooter. | Boyet. And who is your deer?
Rofa. If we chuse by horns, yourself; come not near.
ftrikes at the brow.
Rola. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it.