Rof. We need more light to find your meaning out. Rof. Look, what you do; and do it still i'th' dark. Rof. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Cath. You weigh me not; O, that's, you care not for me. Rof. Great reafon; for paft Cure is ftill paft Care. (33) Prin. Well bandied both; a fet of wit well play'd. But, Rofaline, you have a Favour too : Who fent it? and what is it? Rof. I would, you knew. And if my face were but as fair as yours, Prin. Any thing like? Rof. Much in the letters, nothing in the praife. Cath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book. Rof. Ware pencils. How? let me not die your debter, My red dominical, my golden letter. O, that your face were not fo full of Oes! Cath. Pox of that jeft, and I beshrew all fhrews: (34) (33) for paft Care is still paft Cure.] The Tranfpofition which I have made in the two Words, Care and Cure, is by the Direction of the ingenious Dr. Thirbly. The Reason fpeaks for it felf. (34) Prin. Pox of that jest, and I beshrew all Shrews. As the Princess has behav'd with great Decency all along hitherto, there is no Reason to be affign'd why he should start all at once into this courfe Dialect. But I am perfwaded, the Editors only have made her go out of Character. In short, Rofaline and Catharine are rallying one another without Referve; and to Catharine this firft Line certainly belong'd, and therefore I have ventur'd once more to put her in Poffeffion of it, Prino Prin. But what was fent to you from fair Dumaine? Prin. Did he not fend you twain ? Mar. This, and these pearls, to me fent Longaville; Prin. I think no less; dost thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would thefe hands might never part. O, that I knew he were but in by th' week! And make him proud to make me proud with jefts: Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school; Rof. The blood of youth burns not in fuch excess, As gravity's revolt to wantonnefs. (35) So pertaunt like would I o'ersway his State,] If the Editors are acquainted with this Word, and can account for the Meaning of it, their Induftry has been more fuccefsful than mine, for I can no where trace it. So pedant like, as I have ventur❜d to replace in the Text, makes very good Sense, i. e. in fuch lordly, controlling, manner would I bear Myself over him, &c. What Biron fays of a Pedant, towards the Conclufion of the 2d Act, countenances this Conjecture. A domineering Pedant o'er the boy, ་ Mar. Mar. Folly in fools bears not fo ftrong a note, Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Boyet. O, I am ftab'd with laughter; where's her Grace? Prin. Thy news, Boyet? Boyet. Prepare, Madam, prepare. Arm, wenches, arm; Encounters mounted are I thought to close mine eyes fome half an hour s And over-heard, what you shall over-hear: That well by heart hath conn'd his embaffage. I should have fear'd her, had he been a Devil. One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd, and fwore, Ano Another with his finger and his thumb, Cry'd, via! we will do't, come what will come. To check their folly, paffion's folemn tears. Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us? Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparell'd thus, Like Mofcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess. Their purpose is to parley, court and dance; And every one his love-feat will advance Unto his fev'ral miftrefs; which they'll know By Favours fev'ral, which they did bestow. Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be taskt ; Hold, Rofaline; this Favour thou shalt wear, And change your Favours too; fo fhall your Loves Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours moft in fight. Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't? Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace : heart, And And quite divorce his memory from his Part. There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown; And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame. [Sound. come. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and attendants, difguis'd like Mofcovites; Moth with Mufick, as for a masquerade. Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth! [The ladies turn their backs to him. Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out Biron. True; out, indeed. Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold. Biron. Once to behold, rogue. Moth. Once to behold with your fun-beamed eyes With your fun-beamed eyes Boyet. They will not answer to that epithete; You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. (36) Biron. Beauties, no richer than rich Taffata.] i. e. The Taffata Masks they wore to conceal Themselves. All the Editors concur to give this Line to Biron; but, furely, very abfurdly for he's One of the zealous Admirers, and hardly would make fuch an Inference. Boyet is fneering at the Parade of their Address, is in the fecret of the Ladies' Stratagem, and makes himself Sport at the Absurdity of their Proëm, in complimenting their Beauty, when they were mask'd. It therefore comes from him with the utmost Propriety. |