For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, Rofa. Another of these students at that time Prin. God bless my ladies, are they all in love, every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise ! Mar. Here comes Boyet. Enter Boyet. Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach ; Attendants. King. Fair Princess, welcome to the Court of Na. Prin. Fair, I give you back again ; and welcome I varre, have not yet : the roof of this Court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, Madam, to my Court. Prin. I will be welcome then ; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady, I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will. Prin. Why, Will shall break its will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise, fuit. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away ; Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once ? questions. tire. your mask! King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thoufand crowns; Being but th' one half of an intire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say, that he, or we, as neither have, Receiv'd that sum ; yet there remains unpaid A hundred thousand more; in furety of the which, One part of Aquitain is bound to us, Although not valu'd to the mony's worth : If then the King your father will restore But that one half which is unfatisfy'd, We will give up our right in Aquitain, And hold fair friendship with his Majesty : But that, it seems, he little purposeth, For here he doth demand to have repaid An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, (7) On payment of an hundred thousand crowns, To have his title live in Aquitain; Which we much rather had depart withal, And have the mony by our father lent, Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is. Dear Princess, were not his requests fo far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make (7) And not demands To have his Title live in Aquitaine.] The old Books concur in this Reading, and Mr. Pope has embraced it ; tho', as I conceive, it is ftark Nonsense, and repugo nant to the Circumstance suppos’d by our Poet. I have, by reforming the Pointing, and throwing out a single Letter, reftor’d, I believe, the genuine Sense of the Passage. Aquitain was pledg’d, it feems, to Navarre's father, for 200000 Crowns. The French King prétends to have paid one Moiety of this Debt, (which Navarre knows nothing of,) but demands this Moiety back again : instead whereof (says Navarre) he should rather pay the remaining Moiery, and demand to have Aguia tain redeliver’d up to him. This is plain and easy Reasoning upon the Fact suppos'd; and Navarre declares, he had rather receive the Residue of his Debt, than detain the Province morte gag'd for Security of it. A A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast; go well satisfied to France again. Prin. You do the King my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that, which hath so faithfully been paid. King. I do proteft, I never heard of it; And if you prove it, I'll repay it back, Or yield up Aquitain. Prin. We arrest your word : Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a fum, from special officers Of Charles his father. King. Satisfie me so. Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound : To morrow you shall have a sight of them. King. It shall fuffice me; at which interview, Grace ! pray you, my commendations ; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan. ROS: [Exit. do Rof. My phyfick says, ay: [Exit. Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame? Boyet. The heir of Alanson, Rofaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady; Monsieur, fare you well. [ Exit: Long. I beseech you, a word : what is the in white ? Boyet. A woman sometimes, if you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance, light in the light; I defire her name. Boyet. She hath but one for her self; to desire That, were a shame. Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended. Long. Nay, my choller is ended : Boyet. Not unlike, Sir ; that may be. [Exit Long. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord ; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. And every jest but a word. word. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry. Boyet, [Exit Biron. |