So you, to study now it is too late, That were to climb o'er the houfe t'unlock the gate. King. Well, fit you out:-Go home, Biron ; Adieu ! Biron. No, my good lord, I have fworn to stay with you. And though I have for barbarifm fpoke more, And 'bide the penance of each three year's day. Biron. Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court. Hath this been proclaimed ? Biron. Let's fee the penalty. On pain of lofing her tongue :- [Reading. [Reading. Long. Marry, that did I. Biron. Sweet lord, and why? Long. To fright them hence with that dread pe nalty. Biron. A dangerous law againft gentility! Item, 9 A dangerous law againf gentility !] I have ventured to prefix the name of Biron to this line, it being evident, for two reafons, that it, by fome accident or other, flipt out of the printed books. In the first place, Longaville confeffes, he had devis'd the penalty: and why he should immediately arraign it as a dangerous law, feems to be very inconfiftent. In the next place, it is much more natural for Biron to make this reflexion, who is cavilling at every thing; and then for him to pursue his reading over the remaining articles.- As to the word gentility, here, it does not fignify that rank of people called, gentry; but what the French exprefs by, gentileffe, i. e. elegantia, u banitas. And then the meaning is this. Such a law for banishing women from the court, Item, [Reading.] If any man be feen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure Such publick fhame as the rest of the court can poffibly devife. This article, my liege, yourself muft break; For, well you know, here comes in embaffy The French king's daughter with yourself to speak, A maid of grace, and compleat majesty, About furrender up of Aquitain To her decrepit, fick, and bed-rid father: Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. Biron. So ftudy evermore is overshot ; Biron. Neceffity will make us all forfworn Three thousand times within this three years' space : For every man with his affects is born: Not by might mafter'd, but by efpecial grace.' court, is dangerous, or injurious, to politeness, urbanity, and the more refined pleasures of life. For men without women would turn brutal, and favage, in their natures and behaviour., THEOBALD. Not by might mafler'd, but by special grace.] Biron, amidst his extravagancies, fpeaks with great juftnefs against the folly of vows. They are made without fufficient regard to the variations of life, and are therefore broken by fome unforeseen neceffity. They proceed commonly from a prefumptuous confidence, and a falfe eftimate of human power. JOHNSON. So So to the laws at large I write my name, And he, that breaks them in the least degree, Stands in attainder of eternal shame. 2 Suggestions are to others as to me; But, I believe, although I seem so loth, King. Ay, that there is: our court, you know, is haunted With a refined traveller of Spain, A man in all the world's new fashion planted, A man of complements, whom right and wrong 3 Suggestions -] Temptations. JOHNSON. This -quick recreation] Lively sport, fpritely diverfion. JOHNSON. 4 A man of complements, whom right and wrong Have chofe as umpire of their mutiny.] As very bad a play as this is, it was certainly Shakespeare's, as appears by many fine mafter-ftrokes fcattered up and down. An exceffive complaifance is here admirably painted, in the perfon of one who was willing to make even right and wrong friends: and to perfuade the one to recede from the accustomed ftubbornness of her nature, and wink at the liberties of her oppofite, rather than he would incur the imputation of ill-breeding in keeping up the quarrel. And as our author, and Jonfon his cotemporary, are, confeffedly, the two greatest writers in the drama that our nation could ever boast of, this may be no improper occafion to take notice of one material difference between Shakespeare's worft plays, and the other's. Our author owed all to his prodigious natural genius; and Jonfon moft to his acquired parts and learning. This, if attended to, will explain the difference we fpeak of. Which is this, that, in Jonfon's bad pieces, we do not discover the leaft traces of the author of the Fox and Alchemift; but, in the wildest and most extravagant notes of Shakespeare, you every now. and then encounter ftrains that recognize their divine compofer. And the reason is this, that Jonfon owing his chief excellence to art, This child of fancy, that Armado hight, For interim to our studies, shall relate 5 From tawny Spain, loft in the world's debate. art, by which he fometimes ftrained himself to an uncommon pitch, when he unbent himself, had nothing to fupport him; but fell below all likeness of himfelf; while Shakespeare, indebted more largely to nature than the other to his acquired talents, could never, in his moft negligent hours, fo totally divest himself of his genius but that it would frequently break out with amazing force and splendour. WARBURTON. This paffage, I believe, means no more than that Don Armado was a man nicely verfed in ceremonial diftinctions, one who could diftinguish in the most delicate questions of honour the exact boundaries of right and wrong. Compliment, in Shakespeare's time, did not fignify, at least did not only fignify verbal civility, or phrafes of courtefy, but according to its original meaning, the trappings, or ornamental appendages of a character, in the fame. manner, and on the fame principles of fpeech with accomplishment. Compliment is, as Armado well expreffes it, the varnish of a complete man. JOHNSON. Dr. Johnson's opinion may be fupported by the following paffage in Lingua, or the Combat of the Tongue and the five Senfes for Superiority, 1607.-" after all fashions and of all colours, "with rings, jewels, a fan, and in every other place, odd comple"ments." And again, by the title-page to Richard Brathwaite's English Gentlewoman, "drawne out to the full body, expreffing "what habiliments doe best attire her; what ornaments doe beft "adorne her; and what complements doe beft accomplish her." STEEVENS. From tawny Spain, &c.] i. e. he fhall relate to us the celebrated ftories recorded in the old romances, and in their very stile. Why he fays from tawny Spain is, because these romances, being of Spanish original, the heroes and the fcene were generally of that country. Why he fays, loft in the world's debate is, because the fubject of thofe romances were the crufades of the European Chriftians against the Saracens of Afia and Africa. So that we fee here is meaning in the words. WARBURTON. -in the world's debate ] The world feems to be used in a monaftick fenfe by the king, now devoted for a time to a monaftic life. In the world, in jeculo, in the bustle of human affairs, from which we are now happily fequeftred, in the world, to which the votaries of folitude have no relation. JOHNSON. How How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; } Biron. Armado is a moft illuftrious wight; Enter Dull, and Coftard, with a letter. Dull. Which is the king's own person? 7 Dull. I myself reprehend his own perfon, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would fee his own perfon in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he, 1 Dull. Signior Arme,-Arme-commends you. There's villainy abroad; this letter will tell you more. me. Coft. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. Biron. How low foever the matter, I hope in God for high words. 8 Long. A high hope for a low having; God g us patience! 7 Which is the king's own perfon ?] In former editions: Dull. Which is the duke's own person? rant Biron. The king of Navarre is in feveral paffages, thro' all the copies, called the duke: but as this must have fprung rather from the inadvertence of the editors, than a forgetfulness in the poet, I have every where, to avoid confusion restored king to the text. A high hope for a low having;] In old editions: A bigh hope for a low heaven; THEOBALD. A low heaven, fure, is a very intricate matter to conceive. I dare "them, |