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 harveft of their heavy toil.
But love first learned in a lady's eyes,
'Lives not alone immured in the brain:
But with the motion of all elements,
< Courses as swift as thought in every power,
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious feeing to the eye:
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind!
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopt.
'Love's feeling is more soft and sensible,
'Than are the tender horns of cockled fuails.
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste;
For valour, is not love a Hercules?

Still climbing trees in the Hefperides.

Subtle as Sphinx, as fweet and musical

As bright Apollo's lute, ftrung with his hair:
And when love speaks, the voice of all the Gods,
Make heaven drowfie with the harmony.

Never durft poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's fighs;
O then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility,

From

From womens eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire,
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That fhew, contain, and nourish all the world;
Else none at all in ought proves excellent.
Then fools you were, these women to forswear:
Or keeping what is fworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom'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 lose 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 fulfills the law;

And who can fever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid then, and foldiers to the field!

Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, Lords; Pell mell, down with them: but be first advis'd,

In conflict that you get the fun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing, lay these gloffes by, Shall we refolve to woo these 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 thither,
Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress; in the afternoon

We will with some strange paftime solace them,
Such as the fhortnefs of the time can shape:
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Forerun fair love, strewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away, no time fhall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.

Biron. Alone, alone fowed cockrel, reap'd no corn,
And justice always whirls in equal measure:
Light wenches may prove plagues to men forfworn;
If so, our copper buys no better treasure.

[Exeunt.

S

ACT V. SCENE I.

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel and Dull.

HOLOFERNES.

Atis quod fufficit.

Nath. I praife God for you, Sir, your reasons at dinner have been sharp and fententious; pleafant without fcurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without herefie: I did converse this quondam-day with a companion of the King's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrafonical. He is too picked, too fpruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.

Nat. A moft fingular and choice epithet.

[draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbofity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such phanatical phantasms, fuch infociable and point-devife companions, fuch rackers of orthography, as do speak dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he fhould pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e,t: he clepeth a calf, cauf: half, hauf: neighbour vocatur nebour;

neigh abbreviated ne: this is abominable, which we would call abhominable: ́ it infinuateth me of infamy: Ne intelligis Domine, to make frantick, lunatick?

Nath. Laus deo, bene intelligo.

Hol. Bome boon for boon prefcian; a little scratch, 'twill

serve.

Hol. Quare Chirra, not Sirra?

Arm. Men of peace, well encountred.

Hol. Moft military Sir, falutation.

Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stole the scraps.

Coft. O they have liv'd long on the Alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallow'd than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace, the peal begins.

Arm. Monfieur, are you not letter'd?

Moth. Yes, yes, he teaches boys the horn-book:

What is A B spelt backward with the horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba, moft filly fheep with a horn.

learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou confonant?

You hear his

Moth. The laft of the five vowels, if you repeat them, or

the fifth if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a e I----

VOL. II.

T

Moth.

Moth. The theep; the other two concludes it out.

Arm. Now by the falt wave of the Mediteraneum, a fweet touch, a quick venew of wit; snip, fnap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect; true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man: which is wit-old. Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?

Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou difputeft like an infant; go, whip thy gigg. Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy unum cita, a gigg of a cuckold's horn.

Coft. And I had but one penny in the world, thou should'st have it to buy ginger-bread; hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy mafter, thou half-penny purfe of wit, thou pidgeon-egg of discretion. of discretion. O, and the heav'ns were fo pleafed that thou wert but my baftard! what a joyful father wouldst thou make me? go too, thou hast it ad dunghil, at the finger's ends, as they fay.

Hol. Oh, I fmell falfe latin, dunghil for unguem.

Arm. Arts-man preambula; we will be fingled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain ?

Hol. Or Mons the hill.

Arm. At your fweet pleasure, for the mountain.

Hol. I do fans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the King's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princefs at her pavilion, in the pofleriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol. The pofterior of the day, moft generous Sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon: the word is well cull'd, choice, fweet, and apt, I do affure you Sir, I do affure.

Arm. Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do affure ye, my very good friend; for what is inward between us, let it pafs ----I do beseech thee, remember thy curtefie--