Enter Coftard. Prin. Here comes a member of the commonwealth (7). Coft. Good dig-you-den all; pray you, which is the head lady? Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the reft that have no heads. Coft. Which is the greateft lady, the highest ? Coft. The thickest and the tallest? it is fo, truth is truth. An' your wafte, mistress, were as flender as my wit (8), One o' these maids girdles for your waste should be fit. Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickeft here. Prin. What's your will, Sir, what's your will? Coft. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one lady Rofaline. Prin. Ŏ thy letter, thy letter: he's a good friend of mine. Stand afide, good bearer. Break up this capon (9). Boyet, you can carve; Boyet. (7) A member of the common-wealth,] Here, I believe, is a kind of jest intended; a member of the common-wealth is put for one of the commn people, one of the meanest. (8) An' YOUR wafte, mistress, were as flender as my wit, One o' thefe maids girdles for YOUR waste should be fit.] And was not one of her maid's girdles fit for her? It is plain that An' My wafte, miftrefs, was as flender as YOUR wit, The lines are humorous enough, both as reflecting on his own gross fhape, and her flender wit. WARBURTON. This conjecture is ingenious enough, but not well confidered. It is plain that the Ladies girdles would not fit the princess. For when she has referred the clown to the thickest and the talleft, he turns immedia ely to her with the blunt apology, truth is truth and again tells her, you are the thickeft here. If any alteration is to be made, I fhould propofe, An' your waist, mifirefs, were as flender as your wit. This would point the reply, but perhaps he mentions the flenderne fs of his own wit to excufe his bluntnefs. (9) Boyet, you can carve: Break up this Capon.] . . open this letter Our Boyet. I am bound to serve. This letter is miftook, it importeth none here; It is writ to Jaquenetta. Prin. We will read it, I fwear. Break the neck of the wax (1), and every one give ear. Boyet reads. Y heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, Br heaven, har that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itfelf, have commiferation on thy heroical vaffal. The magnanimous and moft illuftrate King Cophetua (2) fet eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and be it was that might rightly fay, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar (O base and obfcure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, faw, and overcame; be came, one; faw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the King. Why did he come? to fee. Why did he fee? to overcome. To whom came be? to the beggar. What faw he? the beggar. Whom overcame be? the beggar. The conclufion is victory; on whofe fide? the King's; the captive is enrich'd: on whofe fide? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whofe fide? the King's? no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the King (for fo ftands the comparison) thou the beggar for fo witnesseth thy lowlinefs. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could. Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What fbalt thou exchange Our poet uses this metaphor, as the French do their Poulet; which fignifies both a young Fowl, and a Love-letter, Poulet, amatorie Litera, fays Richelet and quotes from Voiture, Repondre au plus obligeant Poulet du Monde ; To reply to the most obliging Letter in the World. The Italians ufe the fame manner of Expreffion, when they call a Love-Epiftle, una Pollicetta amorofa. I owe the Hint of this equivocal use of the Word to my ingenious friend Mr. Bishop. THEOBALD. (1) Break the neck of the wax,] Still alluding to the capon. (2) King Cophetua-] This story is again alluded to in Henry IV. Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. But of this King and Beggar the story then, doubtless, well known, is, I am afraid, loft. Zenelopbon has not the appearance of a female name, but fince I know not the true name, it is idle to guess. For the King and Beggar fee Mr. Percy's collection of ballads. for rags? robes; for tittles? titles: for thyself? me. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part, Thine in the deareft defign of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. (3) Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainft thee, thou lamb, that ftandeft as his prey; Submiffive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play. But if thou strive (poor foul) what art thou then? Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this letter? What vane? what weathercock ? did you ever hear better? Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the stile. Prin. Elfe your memory is bad, going o'er it ere while (4). Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in Court, A phantafme, a monarcho (5), and one that makes sport To the prince, and his book-mates. Prin. Thou, fellow, a word; Who gave thee this letter? Coft. I told you; my lord. Prin. To whom shouldft thou give it ? Coft. From my lord to my lady. Prin. From which lord to which lady? Coft. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rofaline. away (6). Come, lords, Here, fweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. [Exit Princefs attended. WARB. (3) Thus deft thou hear, &c.] These fix lines appear to be a quotation from fome ridiculous poem of that time. (4) -ere while.] Juft now; a little while ago. So Raleigh, Here lies Hobbinol our shepherd, while e'er. (5) a monarcho,] Sir T. Hanmer reads, a mammuccio. (6) Come, lords, away.] Perhaps the Princefs faid rather Come, ladies, away.The rest of the scene deserves no care. Boyet. Boyet. Who is the fhooter? who is the shooter? Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. Rof. Why, the that bears the bow. Finely put off. marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Rof. Well then, I am the fhooter. Boy. And who is your Deer? Rof. If we chufe by horns, yourfelf; come not near. Finely put on indeed. Mar. You will wrangle with her, Boyet, and she ftrikes at the brow. Boyet. But the herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now? Rof. Shall I come upon thee with an old faying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Quinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Rof. Thou can'ft not bit it, hit it, hit it. Thou canst not bit it, my good man. An' I cannot, another can. [Singing. [Exit Rof. Coft. By my troth, most pleasant; how both did fit it. Mar. A mark marvellous well fhot; for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark? O, mark but that mark! a mark, Let the mark have a prick in't; to meet at if it may be. Boyet. An' if my hand be out, then, belike, your Caft. Then will fhe get the upfhot by cleaving the pin, Mar. Come, come, you talk greafily; your lips grow foul. Q3 Coft Coft. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir, challenge her to bowl. owl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night my good [Exeunt all but Coftard. Coft. By my foul, a fwain; a moft fimple clown! Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, moft sweet jefts, most incony vulgar wit, When it comes fo fmoothly off, fo obfcenely; as it were, fo fit. Armado o' th' one fide- O, a moft dainty man; To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan. ``] To fee him kifs his hand, and how moft fweetly he will fwear : And his Page o' t'other fide, that handful of Wit; SCENE [Exit Coftard. [Shouting within. II. (7) Enter Dull, Holofernes, and Sir Nathanael. Nath. Very reverend fport, truly; and done in the teftimony of a good Confcience. Hol. (7) Enter-Holofernes,] There is very little personal reflexion in Shakespeare. Either the virtue of thofe times, or the candour of our author, has fo effected, that his fatire is, for the most part, general, and as himself fays. his taxing like a wild goofe flies, Unclaim'd of any man. The place before us feems to be an exceptior. For by Hlofernes is defigned a particular character, a pedant and fchoolmaster of our author's time, one John Florio, a teacher of the Italian tongue in London, who has given us a fmall dictionary of that language, under the title of A world of words, which in his Epistle Dedicatory he tells us, is of little less value than Stephens's treasure of the Greek tongue, the most compleat work that was ever yet compiled of its kind. In his preface, he calls those who had criticized his works Sea-dogs or Land-critics; Monsters of men, if not beafts rather than men; whofe teeth are canibals, their toongs addars forks, their lips afpes poison, their eyes bafilifkes, their breath the breath of a grave, their words like fwordes of Turks that strive which ball dive deepeft into a Chriftian lying bound before them. Well therefore might the mild Nathanael defire Holofernes to abrogate fcurrility. His profeffion too is the reason that Holofernes deals |