Act IV. Ruminat, and fo forth. Ah, good old Mantuan †, I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice; Vinegia, Vinegia! qui non te vedi, ei non te pregia. Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! who understandeth thee not, loves thee not:ut re fol la mi fa. Under pardon, Sir, what are the contents? Or rather, as Horace fays in his: What! my foul! verfes ? Nath. Ay, Sir, and very learned. Hol. Let me hear a staff, a ftanza, a verfe; Lege, Domine. Nath. If love make me forfworn, how shall I swear to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd; Tho' to myfelf forfworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like ofiers bow'd. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; Where all thofe pleasures live, that art would comprehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee fhall fuf fice; Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend. All ignorant that foul, that fees thee without wonder: Which is to me fome praife, that I thy parts admire ; Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder; Which, not to anger bent, is mufic, and sweet fire. Celestial as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, That fings heav'n's praife with fuch an earthly tongue. Hol. You find not the apoftrophes, and fo mifs the Let me fupervife' the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratify'd; but for the elegancy, facility, accent. He means Baptifta Spagnolus, furnamed Mantuanus from the place of his birth, a writer of poems, who lived towards the end of the fifteenth century. 175 and golden cadence of poefy, caret. Ovidius Nafo wasthe man. And why, indeed, Nafo; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention? imitari, is nothing: fo doth the hound his mafter, the ape his keeper, the try'd horfe his rider. But, Damofella Virgin, was this directly to you? Faq. Ay, Sir, from one Monfieur Biron, to one of the ftrange Queen's ladies. Hol. I will overglance the fuperfcript. To the [nowwhite 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 perfon written unto. Your Ladyfhip's in all defired 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 stranger Queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progreffion, hath mifcarry'd. Trip and go, my fweet; deliver this paper into the hand of the King; it may concern much; ftay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty adieu. : Jaq. Good Coftard, go with me. Sir, God fave your life. Coft. 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 privilege I have with the parents of the aforefaid 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 berba. Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter Biron, with a paper in his hand, alone. Biron. The King is hunting the deer, I am courfing 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 fheep, 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 lye, and lye 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, fweeter 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 grone! [He ftands afide.. 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 fweet a kifs the golden fun gives. not To thofe fresh morning-drops upon the rofe, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have fmote The night of dew, that on my checks down flows; Nor fhines the filver moon one half fo bright, Through the tranfparent bofom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; And they thy glory through my grief will shew; 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. 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 first that have been perjur'd fo? Biron. I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know; Thou mak'ft the triumviry, the three-corner-cap of fociety, The shape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up fimplicity. Long. I fear, thefe ftubborn lines lack power to move: O fweet Maria, Emprefs of my love, These numbers will 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 ('Gainft whom the world cannot hold argument) Perfuade my heart to this falfe perjury? Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment : A woman I forfwore; but I will prove, 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 doft fhine, Exhal'ft this vapour-vow; in thee it is; If broken then, it is no fault of mine; If by me broke, what fool is not so wife To lofe an oath to win a paradife? Biron. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity; A green goofe a goddess: púre, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend, we are much out o' th' way. Enter Dumain. Long. By whom shall I fend this? ftay. -company; Biron. All hid, all hid, an old infant play; Like a demy-god, here fit I in the sky, And wretched fools' fecrets headfully o'er-eye: More facks to the mill! O heav'ns, I have my wish ; Dumain transform'd, four woodcocks in a dish? Dum. O moft divine Kate! Biron. O most profane coxcomb! [afide. Dum. By heav'n, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth, fhe is but corporal; there you lye. [afide. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. Dum. As fair as day. [afide. [afide. Biron. Ay, as fome days; but then no fun must [afide. [afide. |