Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your mistreffes dare never come in rain,

For fear their colours fhould be wash'd away. King. "Twere good, yours did: for, Sir, to tell you plain,

I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to day :

Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as fhe. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff fo dear.

Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face fee.

Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for fuch tread.
Dum. O vile! then as fhe goes, what upward lies
The street should fee as the walkt over head.
King. But what of this, are we not all in love?
Biron. Nothing fo fure, and thereby all forfworn.
King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now
prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
Dum. Ay, marry, there;

this evil.

fome flattery for

Long. O, fome Authority how to proceed;

Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil.
Dum. Some falve for perjury.

Biron. O, 'tis more than need.

Have at you then, Affection's Men at arms;
Confider, what you firft did fwear unto :
To faft, to ftudy, and to fee no woman;
Flat treafon 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you faft? your ftomachs are too young:
And abftinence ingenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to study, (Lords)
In that each of you hath forfworn his book.
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my Lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of Study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From womens eyes this doctrine I derive;
They are the ground, the book, the academies,

K 4

From

From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire:
Why, univerfal plodding prifons up
The nimble fpirits in the arteries;
As motion and long-during Action tires
The finewy Vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in That forfworn the use of eyes;
And Study too, the caufer of your vow.
For where is any author in the world,
Teaches fuch beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to our felf,
And where we are, our Learning likewife is.
Then, when our felves we fee in ladies eyes,
Do we not likewise see our Learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forfworn our books:
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beauty's tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other flow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore finding barren practifers,
Scarce fhew a harvest of their heavy toil.
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain:
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as fwift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power double power,

Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious Seeing to the eye:
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind!
A lover's ear will hear the lowest Sound,
When the fufpicious head of thrift is stopt. (26)

(26) A Lover's Ear will hear the lowest Sound,

When the fufpicious Head of Theft is ftop'd.]

Love's

I have ventur'd to fubftitute a Word here, against the Authority of all the printed Copies. There is no Contraft of Terms, betwixt a Lover and a Thief: but betwixt a Lover and a Man of Thrift there is a remarkable Antithefis. Nor is it true

LOVE's Labour's loft.

Love's Feeling is more foft and fenfible,

Than are the tender horns of cockled fnails.

225

Love's Tongue proves dainty Bacchus grofs in Tafte;
For Savour, is not Love a Hercules,

Still climbing trees in the Hefperides? (27)
Subtle as Sphinx; as fweet and mufical

As bright Apollo's lute, ftrung with his hair:
And when Love fpeaks the voice of all the Gods, (28)
Mark, Heaven drowfie with the harmony!

in Fact, I believe, that a Thief, harden'd to the Profeffion, is always fufpicious of being apprehended; but He may fleep as found as an honefter Man. But, according to the Ideas we have of a Mifer, a Man who makes Lucre and Pelf his fole Object and Purfuit, his Sleeps are broken and disturb'd with perpetual Apprehenfions of being robb'd of his darling Treafure: confequently, his Ear is upon the attentive Bent, even when he fleeps beft.

(27) For Valour is not Love a Hercules,

Still climbing Trees in the Hefperides ?]

I have here again ventur'd to tranfgrefs against the printed Books. The Poet is here obferving how all the Senfes are refin'd by Love. But what has the poor Senfe of Smelling done, not to keep its Place among its Brethren? Then Hercules's Valour was not in climbing the Trees, but in attacking the Dra gon gardant. I rather think, the Poet meant, that Hercules was allured by the Odour and Fragrancy of the golden Apples. (28) And when Love Speaks, the Voice of all the Gods,

Make Heaven drowfie with the Harmony.]

As this is writ and pointed in all the Copies, there is neither Sense, nor Concord; as will be obvious to every understanding Reader. The fine and eafy Emendation, which I have inferted in the Text, I owe to my ingenious Friend Mr. Warburton. His Comment on Heaven being drowfie with the Harmony is no lefs ingenious; and therefore, I'll fubjoin it in his own Words. "Mufick, we muft obferve, in our Author's time "had a very different Ufe to what it has now. At prefent, "it is only employ'd to raise and inflame the Passions; then, to "calm and allay all kind of Perturbations. And, agreeable to "this Obfervation, throughout all Shakespeare's Plays, where "Mufick is either actually used, or its Power defcrib'd, 'tis always faid to be for thefe Ends.

K

Never

Never durft Poet touch a pen to write,

Until his ink were temper'd with love's fighs;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.

From womens eyes this doctrine I derive :
They fparkle ftill the right Promethean fire,
They are the books, the arts, the academies,
That fhew, contain, and nourish all the world;
Elfe none at all in aught proves excellent.
Then fools you were, these women to forfwear :
Or, keeping what is fworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom's fake (a word, that all men love)
Or for love's fake, (a word, that loves all men ;)
Or for mens fake, (the author of these women ;)
Or womens fake, (by whom we men are men ;)
Let us once lofe our oaths, to find our felves;
Or else we lose our felves, to keep our Oaths.
It is religion to be thus forfworn,

For charity it felf fulfils the law;

And who can fever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, foldiers, to the field!
Biron. Advance your ftandards, and upon them,
Lords;

Pell-mell, down with them; but be first advis'd,
In conflict that you get the fun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing, lay these glozes by;
Shall we refolve to woo thefe girls of France?
King. And win them too; therefore let us devise
Some entertainment for them in their Tents.

Biron. First, from the Park let us conduct them thi

ther

Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair miftrefs; in the afternoon
We will with fome ftrange paftime folace them,
Such as the fhortness of the time can fhape: .
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,

LovE's Labour's loft.

227

Biron. Allons! Allons! fown Cockle reap'd no corn; (29)

And juftice always whirls in equal measure;

Light wenches may prove plagues to men forfworn; If fo, our copper buys no better treasure. [Exeunt.

A C T IV.

SCENE, the Street.

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel and Dull.

HOLOFERN ES.

Atis, quod fufficit.

Nath. I praife God for you, Sir, your reafons at dinner have been sharp and fententious; pleafant without Scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without Impudency, learned without opinion, and ftrange without herefy: I did converfe this quondam-day with a companion of the King's, who is entituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

His humour is

Hol. Novi hominem, tanquam te. lofty, his difcourfe peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate majeftical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrafonical. He is too piqued, too fpruce, too affected, too odd, as it were; too peregri nate, as I may call it.

Nath. A moft fingular and choice epithet.

[draws out his table book,

(29) Alone, alone, fow'd Cockrel,] The Editors, fure, could have no idea of this Paffage. Biron begins with a repetition in French of what the King had faid in English; Away, away? and then proceeds with a proverbial Expreffion, inciting them to what he had before advis'd, from this Inference; if We only fow Cockle, we shall never reap Corn. i. e. If we don't take the proper Measures for winning these Ladies, we shall never atchieve them. Mr. Warburton.

Hol