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Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine
Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:
If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend;
All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder;
(Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;)
Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet fire".
Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue!
HOL. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy,
some variations in a book entitled The Passionate Pilgrim, 8vo. 1599. MALONE.
7 thy voice his dreadful THUNDEr,
Which, not to anger bent, is MUSICK and sweet fire.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra :
- his voice was propertied
"As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
"But when he meant to quail, and shake the orb,
Here are only numbers ratified ;] Though this speech has all along been placed to Sir Nathaniel, I have ventured to join it to the preceding words of Holofernes; and not without reason. The speaker here is impeaching the verses; but Sir Nathaniel, as it appears above, thought them learned ones: besides, as Dr. Thirlby observes, almost every word of this speech fathers itself on the pedant. So much for the regulation of it: now, a little to the contents.
facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But damosella virgin, was this directed to you?
JAQ. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron1, one of the strange queen's lords.
"And why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the jerks of invention imitary is nothing."
Sagacity with a vengeance! I should be ashamed to own myself a piece of a scholar, to pretend to the task of an editor, and to pass such stuff as this upon the world for genuine. Who ever heard of invention imitary? Invention and imitation have ever been accounted two distinct things. The speech is by a pedant, who frequently throws in a word of Latin amongst his English; and he is here flourishing upon the merit of invention, beyond that of imitation, or copying after another. My correction makes the whole so plain and intelligible, that, I think, it carries conviction along with it. THEOBALD.
This pedantry appears to have been common in the age of Shakspeare. The author of Lingua, or the Combat of the Tongue and the Five Senses for Superiority, 1607, takes particular notice of it:
"I remember about the year 1602, many used this skew kind of language, which, in my opinion, is not much unlike the man, whom Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, king of Egypt, brought for a spectacle, half white and half black." STEEVENS.
-the TIRED horse-] The tired horse was the horse adorned with ribbands,-the famous Bankes's horse so often alluded to. Lyly, in his Mother Bombie, brings in a Hackneyman and Mr. Half-penny at cross-purposes with this word: "Why didst thou boare the horse through the eares ?"-" It was for tiring." "He would never tire," replies the other. Farmer. So, in Marston's Antonio and Mellida, Part II. 1602:
"Slink to thy chamber then and tyre thee."
Again, in What You Will, by Marston, 1607:
My love hath tyred some fidler like Albano." MALONE. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur BIRON,] Shakspeare forgot himself in this passage. Jaquenetta knew nothing of Biron, and had said, just before, that the letter had been sent to her from Don
Armatho, and given to her by Costard." M. MASON.
HOL. I will overglance the superscript. To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing2 to the pèrson written unto:
Your Ladyship's in all desired employment, BIRON. Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my sweet3; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu. JAQ. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save your life!
COST. Have with thee, my girl.
Exeunt CosT. and JAQ. NATH. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith
HOL. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; Did they please you, sir Nathaniel ?
NATH. Marvellous well for the pen.
HoL. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain
WRITING] Old copies written.
Corrected by Mr. Rowe. The first five lines of this speech were restored to the right owner by Mr. Theobald. Instead of Sir Nathaniel the old copies have-Sir Holofernes. Corrected by Mr. Steevens.
TRIP AND GO, my sweet;] Perhaps originally the burthen of a song. So, in Summer's Last Will and Testament, by Nashe, 1600:
Trip and go, heave and hoe,
Up and down, to and fró-." MALONE.
These words are certainly part of an old popular song. There is an ancient musical medley beginning-Trip and go hey!
RITSON. 4-colourable colours.] That is, specious or fair seeming appearances. JOHNSON.
pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society.
NATH. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text,) is the happiness of life.
HOL. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.-Sir, [To DULL,] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt.
Another part of the Same.
Enter BIRON, with a paper.
BIRON. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch'; pitch that defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so, they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved wit! By the lord, this love is as mad as Ajax it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep:
5 BEFORE repast,] Thus the quarto. Folio-being repast. MALONE. 6 — CERTES,] i. e. certainly, in truth. So, in Chaucer's Wif of Bathes Tale, v. 6790:
And certes, sire, though non auctoritee "Were in no book," &c. STEEVENS.
7 - I am toiling in a pitch ;] Alluding to lady Rosaline's complexion, who is through the whole play represented as a black beauty. JOHNSON.
this love is as mad as Ajax; it kills sheep; it kills me,] This is given as a proverb in Fuller's Gnomologia. RITSON.
Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye, -by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in: Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan!
[Gets up into a tree.
Enter the KING, with a paper.
KING. Ah me!
BIRON. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven !-Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy birdbolt under the left pap:-I'faith secrets.
KING. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright,
Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears' of mine give light; Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
9 The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:] This phrase, however quaint, is the poet's own. He means, the dew that nightly flows down his cheeks. Shakspeare, in one of his other pieces, uses night of dew for dewy night, but I cannot at present recollect in which. STEEVENS.
1 Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright,
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears -] So, in our poet's Venus
and Adonis :