For he hath wit to make an ill fhape good,
And shape to win grace, tho' he had no wit.
I faw him at the Duke Alanfon's once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthinefs.

Rofa. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, as I have heard a truth;
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
His eye begets occafion for his wit
For every object, that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jeft;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expofitor)
Delivers in fuch apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales;
And younger hearings are quite ravished ;
So fweet and voluble is his difcourfe.

Prin. God bless my ladies, are they all in love,
That every one her own hath garnished

With fuch bedecking ornaments of praise!

Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance, Lord?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach;

And he and his competitors in oath

Were all addreft to meet you, gentle lady,

Before I came marry, thus much I've learnt,

He rather means to lodge you in the field,

Like one that comes here to befiege his Court,
Than feek a difpenfation for his oath,

To let you enter his unpeopled house.
Here comes Navarre.

Enter the King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and
Attendants.

King. Fair Princess, welcome to the Court of Na

varre.

Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and welcome I

have not yet the roof of this Court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wide fields, too bafe to be mine.

King. You fhall be welcome, Madam, to my Court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady, I have fworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forfworn. King. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will. Prin. Why, Will fhall break its will, and nothing elfe.

King. Your ladyfhip is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my Lord fo, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your Grace hath fworn out house-keeping:
'Tis deadly fin to keep that oath, my Lord;
And fin to break it.

But pardon me, I am too fudden bold:
To teach a teacher ill befeemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpofe of my Coming,.
And fuddenly refolve me in my fuit.

King. Madam, I will, if fuddenly I may.
Prin. You will the fooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Rof. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?.
Biron. I know, you did.

Rof. How needlefs was it then to ask the question? Biron. You must not be fo quick.

Rof. 'Tis long of you, that fpur me with fuch queftions.

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too faft, 'twill tire.

Rof. Not 'till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Rof. The hour, that fools fhould ask.

Biron. Now fair befall your

mask!
Rof. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And fend you many lovers!
Rof. Amen, fo you be none !
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thoufand crowns;
Being but th' one half of an intire fum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But fay, that he, or we, as neither have,
Receiv'd that fum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in furety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valu'd to the mony's worth:
If then the King your father will reftore
But that one half which is unfatisfy'd,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his Majefty:
But that, it feems, he little purpofeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid

An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, (7)
On payment of an hundred thousand crowns,

To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the mony by our father lent,

Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is.

Dear Princess, were not his requests fo far

From reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make

(7)

And not demands

One payment of an hundred thousand Crowns,

To have his Title live in Aquitaine.]

The old Books concur in this Reading, and Mr. Pope has embraced it; tho', as I conceive, it is ftark Nonsense, and repugnant to the Circumftance fuppos'd by our Poet. I have, by reforming the Pointing, and throwing out a single Letter, reftor'd, I believe, the genuine Senfe of the Paffage. Aquitain was pledg'd, it feems, to Navarre's father, for 200000 Crowns. The French King pretends to have paid one Moiety of this Debt, (which Navarre knows nothing of,) but demands this Moiety back again: inftead whereof (fays Navarre) he should rather pay the remaining Moiety, and demand to have Aqui tain redeliver'd up to him. This is plain and eafy Reasoning upon the Fact fuppos'd; and Navarre declares, he had rather

A yielding 'gainft fome reafon in my breaft;
And go well fatisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the King my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name,

In fo unfeeming to confefs receipt

Of that, which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arreft your word :
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For fuch a fum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

King. Satisfie me fo.

Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: To morrow you fhall have a fight of them.

King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,
All liberal reafon I will yield unto :

Mean time, receive fuch welcome at my hand,
As honour without breach of honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthiness.
You may not come, fair Princefs, in my gates;
But here, without, you fhall be fo receiv'd,
As you fhall deem your felf lodg'd in my heart,
Tho' fo deny'd fair harbour in my house:
Your own good thoughts excufe me, and farewel;
To morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair defires confort your
Grace!

King. Thy own Wish wish I thee, in every place.

[Exit.

Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.
Rof. I pray you, do my commendations;

I would be glad to fee it.

Biron. I would, you heard it

Rof. Is the fool fick ?

Biron. Sick at the heart.
Rof. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

groan.

Rof.

Rof. My phyfick fays, ay.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye ?
Rof. No, poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now God fave thy life!
Rof. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot ftay thanksgiving.

[Exit.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame?

Boyet. The heir of Alanfon, Rofaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady; Monfieur, fare you well.

[Exit: Long. I befeech you, a word: what is fhe in white? Boyet. A woman fometimes, if you faw her in the light.

Long. Perchance, light in the light; I defire her

name.

Boyet. She hath but one for her felf; to defire That, were a fhame.

Long. Pray you, Sir, whofe daughter?

Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's bleffing on your beard!
Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended.

She is an heir of Faulconbridge.

Long. Nay, my choller is ended:

She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, Sir; that may be. [Exit Long. Biron. What's her name in the cap ?

Boyet. Catharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is the wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, Sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, Sir: adieu!

Boyet. Farewel to me, Sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit Biron.

Mar. That laft is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jeft.

Boyet. And every jeft 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.