sure as I am alive, if thou come once to talk with her, I fear thou wilt mar whatsoever I make.

Ber. You make, uncle! why am not I big enough to carry mine own letter, I pray?

Don. Ay, ay, carry a fool's head of thy own! why, thou dunce, would'st thou write a letter, and carry it thyself?

Ber. Yes, that I would, and read it to her with mine own mouth; for you must think, if she will not believe me myself when she hears me speak, she will not believe another's hand-writing. Oh, you think I am a blockhead, uncle. No, sir, Poggio knows I have indited a letter myself; so I have.

Pog. Yes truly, sir, I have it in my pocket.

Don. A sweet one, no doubt; pray let's see it. Ber. I cannot read my own hand very well, Poggio; read it, Poggio.

Don. Begin.

Pog. [reads] Most dainty and honey-sweet mistress, I could call you fair, and lie as fast as any that loves you; but my uncle being the elder man, I leave it to him, as more fit for his age, and the colour of his beard. I am wise enough to tell you I can bourds where I see occasion; or if you like my

min'd me." What a detestable set of characters has Ford here sharked up for the exercise of his fine talents! With the exception of poor Bergetto and his uncle, most of the rest seem contending which of them shall prove worthiest of the wheel and the gibbet.

I can bourd where I see occasion,] i. e. jest; see Jonson, vol. iv. p. 222. In the old spelling, this word is frequently confounded with board, which, as Sir Toby truly says, meant to accost. The

uncle's wit better than mine, you shall marry me; if you like mine better than his, I will marry you, in spite of your teeth. So commending my best parts to you, I rest

Yours, upwards and downwards, or you
BERGETTO.

may choose.

Ber. Ah, ha! here's stuff, uncle!

Don. Here's stuff indeed-to shame us all. Pray whose advice did you take in this learned letter? Pog. None, upon my word, but mine own.

Ber. And mine, uncle, believe it, nobody's else; 'twas mine own brain, I thank a good wit for't. Don. Get you home, sir, and look you keep within doors till I return.

Ber. How? that were a jest indeed! I scorn it, i'faith.

Don. What! you do not?

Ber. Judge me, but I do now.

Pog. Indeed, sir, 'tis very unhealthy.

Don. Well, sir, if I hear any of your apish running to motions' and fopperies, till I come back, you were as good not; look to't.

[Exit.

Ber. Poggio, shall's steal to see this horse with the head in's tail?

Pog. Ay, but you must take heed of whipping. Ber. Dost take me for a child, Poggio? Come, honest Poggio.

[Exeunt.

words in the text are borrowed from Nic. Bottom, confessedly a very facetious personage.

If I hear of your running to motions.] i. e. to puppet-shews; see Jonson, vol. ii. p. 7.

SCENE V.

FRIAR BONAVENTURA's Cell.

Enter FRIAR and GIOVANNI.

Friar. Peace! thou hast told a tale, whose every word

Threatens eternal slaughter to the soul;

I'm sorry

I have heard it: would mine ears Had been one minute deaf, before the hour

That thou cam'st to me! O young man, cast

away,

By the religious number of mine.order,'
I day and night have wak'd my aged eyes
Above my strength, to weep on thy behalf:
But Heaven is angry, and be thou resolv'd,
Thou art a man remark'd to taste a mischief."
Look for't; though it come late, it will come sure.
Gio. Father, in this you are uncharitable;
What I have done, I'll prove both fit and good.
It is a principle which you have taught,
When I was yet your scholar, that the frame
And composition of the mind doth follow
The frame and composition of [the] body:
So, where the body's furniture is beauty,

The mind's must needs be virtue; which allow'd,

By the religious number of mine order.] A misprint, probably, for founder; but I have changed nothing.

2 Thou art a man remark'd to tuste a mischief.] i. e. marked out to experience some fearful evil: in this sense the word mischief is sometimes used by our old writers.

Virtue itself is reason but refined,

And love the quintessence of that: this proves
My sister's beauty, being rarely fair,
Is rarely virtuous; chiefly in her love,
And chiefly, in that love, her love to me:
If her's to me, then so is mine to her;
Since in like causes are effects alike.

Friar. O ignorance in knowledge! long ago,
How often have I warn'd thee this before?
Indeed, if we were sure there were no Deity,
Nor heaven nor hell; then to be led alone
By nature's light (as were philosophers
Of elder times) might instance some defence.
But 'tis not so: then, madman, thou wilt find,
That nature is in Heaven's positions blind.

Gio. Your age o'errules you; had you youth like mine,

You'd make her love your heaven, and her divine. Friar. Nay, then I see thou'rt too far sold to

hell:

It lies not in the compass of my prayers

To call thee back, yet let me counsel thee;
Persuade thy sister to some marriage.

Gio. Marriage? why that's to damn her; that's to prove

Her greedy of variety of lust.

Friar. O fearful! if thou wilt not, give me leave

To shrive her, lest she should die unabsolv'd. Gio. At your best leisure, father: then she'll tell you,

How dearly she doth prize my matchless love;
Then you will know what pity 'twere we two
Should have been sunder'd from each other's arms.
View well her face, and in that little round
You may observe a world's variety;

For colour, lips: for sweet perfumes, her breath;
For jewels, eyes; for threads of purest gold,
Hair; for delicious choice of flowers, cheeks;
Wonder in every portion of that throne.—
Hear her but speak, and you will swear the
spheres

Make music to the citizens in heaven.-
But, father, what is else for pleasure fram'd,
Lest I offend your ears, shall go unnam'd.

Friar. The more I hear, I pity thee the more;
That one so excellent should give those parts
All to a second death. What I can do,

Is but to pray; and yet I could advise thee,
Wouldst thou be ruled.

Gio. In what? :

3 For colour, lips.] Dodsley reads for coral, lips; but the old copy is right; colour is placed in apposition to perfume. Just below he has form for throne. In the extravagance of Giovanni's praise, it is scarcely possible to know what terms he would adopt; but form appears too tame to be genuine, and frame occurs in the next verse but one. It is not quite clear to me, that a line has not been dropped after throne.

For world's variety, the old copy reads "world of variety," which spoils the metre. I suppose, the printer mistook the 's for o', the old abridgement of of. It would be unjust to say that the Friar has any thing in him of " the old squire of Troy;" yet he certainly betrays his duty both to God and man in the feeble resistance which he offers to the commencement and continuance of this fatal intercourse.