King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.

Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace!
King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place!

[Exeunt King and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.

Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at the heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physick says, I.m

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt," with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

Ros. And yours from long living!

Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

[Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that same !" Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the white? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name.

m My physick says, I.] She means to say ay. The old spelling of the affirmative particle has been retained here for the sake of the rhyme.-MALONE. n No poynt,] A negation borrowed from the French.-MALONE.

• What lady is that same?] It is odd that Shakspeare should make Dumain inquire after Rosaline who was the mistress of Biron, and neglect Katherine who was his own. Biron behaves in the same manner. Perhaps all the ladies wore masks but the princess.--STEEVENS.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that,
Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? [were a shame.
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.

Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.
Biron. What's her name, in the cap?
Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

[Exit LONG.

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit BIRON.-Ladies unmask.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord;

Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet.
And every jest but a word.
Prin. It was well done of you, to take him at his word.
Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board.
Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!

Boyet.
And wherefore not ships?
No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the
Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar.

[jest?

[Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast;

My lips are no common, though several they be."
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar.

To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree. The civil war of wits were much better used

On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

P My lips are no common, though several they be.] A play on the word several, which, besides its ordinary signification of separate, distinct, likewise signifies in uninclosed lands, a certain portion of ground appropriated to either corn or meadow, adjoining the common field.-MALONE.

ין

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.
Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed :
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair :
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy; [glass'd,
Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were
Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes :
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,

An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd—
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath
I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.

[disclos'd:

Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully. Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? [but grim.

His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,] Although the expression in the text is extremely odd, I take the sense of it to be that his tongue envied the quickness of his eyes, and strove to be as rapid in its utterance, as they in their perception.-STEEVENS.

To feel only looking-] Perhaps we may better read, "To feel only by

looking-"-JOHNSON.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Another part of the same.

Enter ARMADO and MOTH.

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of

hearing.

Moth. Concolinel-'

[Singing. Arm. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl ?t

Arm. How mean'st thou? brawling in French?

Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary" to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches-that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men'?) that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Concolinel-] Here is apparently a song lost.-JOHNSON. I have observed in the old comedies, that the songs are frequently omitted. Probably the performer was left to choose his own ditty, and therefore it could not with propriety be exhibited as a part of a new performance. Not one of the many songs supposed to be sung in Marston's Antonio's Revenge, 1602, are inserted; but instead of them, Cantant.-STEEVENS.

t a French brawl?] A brawl is a kind of dance, perhaps what we now call a cotillon. In The Malcontent of Marston I meet with the following account of it :-" The brawl, why 'tis but two singles to the left, two on the right, three doubles forwards, a traverse of six rounds: do this twice, three singles side galliard trick of twenty coranto pace; a figure of eight, three singles broken down, come up, meet two doubles, fall back, and then honour."STEEVENS.

canary-] Canary was the name of a spritely nimble dance.-

THEOBALD.

Moth. the hobby-horse is forgot.

Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse?

Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almost I had.

Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart.

Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.

Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her.

Arm. I am all these three.

Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.

Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. Moth. A message well sympathised; a horse to be embassador for an ass!

Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?

Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go.

Arm. The way is but short; away.
Moth. As swift as lead, sir.

* By my penny of observation.] The allusion is to the famous old piece, called a Penniworth of Wit. The old copy reads pen.-FARMER.

y Arm. But 0,― But 0,

Moth. the hobby-horse is forgot.] In the celebration of May-day, besides the sports now used, of hanging a pole with garlands, and dancing round it, formerly a boy was dressed up, representing Maid Marian; another like a friar, and another rode on a hobby-horse, with bells jingling, and painted streamers. After the Reformation took place, and precisians multiplied, these latter rites were looked upon to savour of paganism; and then Maid Marian, the friar, and the poor hobby-horse were turned out of the games. Some who were not so wisely precise, but regretted the disuse of the hobby-horse, no doubt, satirized this piece of idolatry, and archly wrote the epitaph above alluded to. Now Moth hearing Armado groan ridiculously, and cry out, But oh! But oh!-humourously pieces out his exclamation with the sequel of this epitaph.-THEOBALD.