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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 wafh'd to day : Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here. King. No devil will fright thee then fo much as the. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff fo dear. Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face


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 fhe 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


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

this evil.

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 first did fwear unto :
To faft, to ftudy, and to fee no woman;
Flat treafon 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? 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
ftill 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 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 likewife fee our Learning there?
O, we have made a vow to ftudy, 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 practisers,
Scarce fhew a harvest of their heavy toil,
But love, firft learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain :
But with the motion of all elements,
Courfes as fwift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a 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.]

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 Feeling is more soft and fenfible,

Than are the tender horns of cockled fnails.
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 sweet and mufical
As bright Apollo's lute, ftrung with his hair:
And when Love speaks the voice of all the Gods, (28)
Mark, Heaven drowfie with the harmony!

in Fact, I believe, that a Thief, harden'd to the Profe.ion, is always fufpicious of being apprehended; but He may sleep 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 Pursuit, 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 best.

(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 observing 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 Dragon 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 Senfe, 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. Musick, 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 Paffions; 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 these Ends.


K. 5

Never durft Poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's fighs;
O, then his lines would ravish favage 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 wifdom'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,


Pell-mell, down with them; but be firft 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


Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistrefs; in the afternoon

We will with fome strange pastime folace them,
Such as the fhortness of the time can shape:
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Forerun fair love, ftrewing her way with flowers.
King Away, away! no time fhall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.

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

And justice always whirls in equal measure; Light wenches may prove plagues to men forfworn; If fo, our copper buys no better treasure. [Exeunt.




SCENE, the Street.

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel and Dull.


Atis, quod fufficit.

Nath. I praife God for you, Sir, your reasons at dinner have been fharp 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.


Hol. Novi hominem, tanquam te. His humour is 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 peregrinate, 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. c. If we don't take the proper Measures for winning these Ladies, we shall never atchieve them. Mr. Warburton..


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