SCENE I.

_Palace of the Duke of Urbin._

_Enter_ FAUNUS _and_ NYMPHADORO.

_Nym._ Faith, Fawn, 'tis my humour, the natural sin of my sanguine complexion. I am most enforcedly in love with all women, almost affecting them all with an equal flame.

_Herc._ An excellent justice of an upright virtue: you love all God's creatures with an unpartial affection.

_Nym._ Right; neither am I inconstant to any one in particular.

_Herc._ Tho' you love all in general, true; for when you vow a most devoted love to one, you swear not to tender a most devoted love to another; and indeed why should any man over-love anything? 'Tis judgment for a man to love everything proportionably to his virtue: I love a dog with a hunting pleasure, as he is pleasurable in hunting; my horse, after a journeying easiness, as he is easy in journeying; my hawk, to the goodness of his wing; and my wench---- 17

_Nym._ How, sweet Fawn, how?

_Herc._ Why, according to her creation. Nature made them pretty, toying, idle, fantastic, imperfect creatures; even so I would in justice affect them, with a pretty, toying, idle, fantastic, imperfect affection; and as indeed they are only created for show and pleasure, so would I only love them for show and pleasure.

_Nym._ Why, that's my humour to the very thread; thou dost speak my proper thoughts.

_Herc._ But, sir, with what possibility can your constitution be so boundlessly amorous as to affect all women, of what degree, form, or complexion soever? 29

_Nym._ I'll tell thee: for mine own part I am a perfect Ovidian, and can with him affect all. If[205] she be a virgin, of a modest eye, shamefaced, temperate aspect, her very modesty inflames me, her sober blushes fires me; if I behold a wanton, pretty, courtly, petulant ape, I am extremely in love with her, because she is not clownishly rude, and that she assures her lover of no ignorant, dull, unmoving[206] Venus; be she sourly severe, I think she wittily counterfeits, and I love her for her wit; if she be learned, and censures poets, I love her soul, and for her soul her body; be she a lady of profess'd ignorance, oh, I am infinitely taken with her simplicity, as one assured to find no sophistication about her; be she slender and lean, she's the Greek's delight; be she thick and plump, she's the Italian's pleasure; if she be tall, she's of a goodly form, and will print a fair proportion in a large bed; if she be short and low, she's nimbly delightful, and ordinarily quick-witted; be she young, she's for mine eye; be she old, she's for my discourse, as one well knowing there's much amiableness in a grave matron; but be she young or old, lean, fat, short, tall, white, red, brown, nay, even black, my discourse shall find reason to love her, if my means may procure opportunity to enjoy her. 53

_Herc._ Excellent, sir: nay, if a man were of competent means, were't not a notable delight for a man to have for every month in that year?

_Nym._ Nay, for every week of the month?

_Herc._ Nay, for every day of the week?

_Nym._ Nay, for every hour of that day?

_Herc._ Nay, for every humour of a man in that hour, to have a several mistress to entertain him; as if he were saturnine, or melancholy, to have a black-haired, pale-faced, sallow, thinking mistress to clip him; if jovial and merry, a sanguine, light-tripping, singing,--indeed a mistress that would dance a[207] caranto as she goes to embrace him; if choleric, impatient, or ireful, to have a mistress with red hair, little ferret eyes, a lean cheek, and a sharp nose, to entertain him. And so of the rest. 68

_Enter_ DONNETTA.

_Nym._ O, sir, this were too great ambition! Well, I love and am beloved of a great many; for I court all in the way of honour, in the trade of marriage, Fawn; but above all, I affect the princess,--she's my utmost end. O, I love a lady whose beauty is joined with fortune, beyond all! yet one of beauty without fortune, for some uses; nay, one of fortune without beauty, for some ends; but never any that has neither fortune nor beauty, but for necessity; such a one as this is Donna Donnetta: here's one has loved all the court just once over.

_Herc._ O, this is the fair lady with the foul teeth! Nature's hand shook when she was in making, for the red that should have spread her cheeks, Nature let fall upon her nose; the white of her chin slipp'd into her eyes; and the gray of her eyes leapt before his time into her hair; and the yellowness of her hair fell without providence into her teeth. 85

_Nym._ By the vow of my heart, you are my most only elected; and I speak by way of protestation, I shall no longer wish to be than that your only affection shall rest in me, and mine only in you.

_Don._ But if you shall love any other? 90

_Nym._ Any other? Can any man love any other that knows you,--the only perfection of your sex, and astonishment of mankind?

_Don._ Fie! ye flatter me. Go, wear and understand my favour: this snail['s] slow, but sure.

_Nym._ This kiss!

_Don._ Farewell!

_Nym._ The integrity and only vow of my faith to you; ever urge your well-deserved requital to me.

[_Exit_ DONNETTA.

_Enter_ GARBETZA.

_Herc._ Excellent! 100

_Nym._ See, here's another of----

_Herc._ Of your most only elected.

_Nym._ Right, Donna Garbetza.

_Herc._ O, I will acknowledge this is the lady made of cutwork, and all her body like a sand-box, full of holes, and contains nothing but dust. She chooseth her servants as men choose dogs, by the mouth; if they open well and full, their cry is pleasing. She may be chaste, for she has a bad face; and yet, questionless, she may be made a strumpet, for she is covetous. 110

_Nym._ By the vow of my heart, you are my most only elected (and I speak it by way of protestation), I shall no longer wish to be than all your affections shall only rest in me, and all mine only in you.

_Herc._ Excellent! this piece of stuff is good on both sides; he is so constant, he will not change his phrase.

_Gar._ But shall I give faith? may you not love another?

_Nym._ Another? Can any man love another that knows you,--the only perfection of your sex, and admiration of mankind? 120

_Gar._ Your speech flies too high for your meaning to follow, yet my mistrust shall not precede my experience: I wrought this favour for you.

_Nym._ The integrity and only vow of my faith to you; ever urge your well-deserved requital to me.

[_Exit_ GARBETZA.

_Herc._ Why, this is pure wit, nay, judgment.

_Nym._ Why, look thee, Fawn, observe me.

_Herc._ I do, sir.

_Nym._ I do love at this instant some nineteen ladies, all in the trade of marriage. Now, sir, whose father dies first, or whose portion appeareth most, or whose fortunes betters soonest, her with quiet liberty at my leisure will I elect; for[208] that's my humour. 133

_Enter_ DULCIMEL _and_ PHILOCALIA.

_Herc._ You profess a most excellent mystery, sir.

_Nym._ 'Fore Heaven! see the princess--she that is----

_Herc._ Your most only elected, too?

_Nym._ Oh! ay--oh! ay--but my hope's faint yet.--By the vow of my heart, you are my most only elected and----

_Dul._ There's a ship of fools going out! Shall I prefer thee, Nymphadoro? Thou mayst be master's mate. My father hath made Dondolo captain, else thou shouldest have his place. 143

_Nym._ By Jove, Fawn, she speaks as sharply, and looks as sourly, as if she had been new squeezed out of a crab orange.

_Herc._ How term you that lady with whom she holds discourse?

_Nym._ O, Fawn, 'tis a lady even above ambition; and like the vertical sun, that neither forceth others to cast shadows, nor can others force or shade her. Her style is Donna Philocalia. 152

_Herc._ Philocalia! What! that renowmed[209] lady, whose ample report hath struck wonder into remotest strangers? and yet her worth above that wonder? She, whose noble industries hath made her breast rich in true glories and undying habilities? she, that whilst other ladies spend the life of earth, Time, in reading their glass, their jewels, and (the shame of poesy) lustful sonnets, gives her soul meditations--those meditations wings that cleave the air, fan bright celestial fires, whose true reflection makes her see herself and them? she whose pity is ever above her envy, loving nothing less than insolent prosperity, and pitying nothing more than virtue destitute of fortune? 164

_Nym._ There were a lady for Ferrara's duke!--one of great blood, firm age, undoubted honour, above her sex, most modestly artful, tho' naturally modest; too excellent to be left unmatch'd, tho' few worthy to match with her.

_Herc._ I cannot tell--my thoughts grow busy. 169

_Phi._ The princess would be private. Void the presence!

[_Exeunt._

_Dul._ May I rest sure thou wilt conceal a secret?

_Phi._ Yes, madam.

_Dul._ How may I rest assured?

_Phi._ Truly thus--do not tell it me.

_Dul._ Why, canst thou not conceal a secret?

_Phi._ Yes, as long as it is a secret, but when two know it, how can it be a secret? and, indeed, with what justice can you expect secrecy in me that cannot be private to yourself? 179

_Dul._ Faith, Philocalia, I must of force trust thy silence; for my breast breaks if I confer not my thoughts upon thee.

_Phi._ You may trust my silence; I can command that; but if I chance to be questioned I must speak truth: I can conceal, but not deny my knowledge. That must command me.

_Dul._ Fie on these philosophical discoursing women! Prithee confer with me like a creature made of flesh and blood, and tell me if it be not a scandal to the soul of all being, proportion, that I, a female of fifteen,[210] of a lightsome and civil discretion--healthy, lusty, vigorous, full, and idle--should for ever be shackled to the crampy shins of a wayward, dull, sour, austere, rough, rheumy threescore and four? 194

_Phi._ Nay, threescore and ten at the least.

_Dul._ Now, Heaven bless me! as it is pity that every knave is not a fool, so it is shame that every old man is not, and resteth not, a widower. They say in China, when women are past child-bearing, they are all burnt to make gunpowder. I wonder what men should be done withal when they are past child-getting. Yet, upon my love, Philocalia (which with ladies is often above their honour), I do even dote upon the best part of the duke.

_Phi._ What's that? 204

_Dul._ His son; yes, sooth, and so love him, that I must marry him.

_Phi._ And wherefore love him so, to marry him?

_Dul._ Because I love him; and because he is virtuous I love to marry.

_Phi._ His virtues! 210

_Dul._ Ay, with him, his virtues.

_Phi._ Ay, with him! alas, sweet princess, love or virtue are not of the essence of marriage!

_Dul._ A jest[211] upon your understanding! I'll maintain that wisdom in a woman is most foolish quality. A lady of a good complexion, naturally well witted, perfectly bred, and well exercised in discourse of the best men, shall make fools of a thousand of these book-thinking creatures. I speak it by way of justification, I tell thee (look that nobody eavesdrop us),--I tell thee, I am truly learned, for I protest ignorance;[212] and wise, for I love myself; and virtuous enough for a lady of fifteen. 223

_Phi._ How virtuous?

_Dul._ Shall I speak like a creature of a good healthful blood, and not like one of these weak, green sickness, lean, phthisic starvelings? First, for the virtue of magnanimity, I am very valiant, for there is no heroic action so particularly noble and glorious to our sex, as not to fall to action; the greatest deed we can do is not to do (look that nobody listen). Then am I full of patience, and can bear more than a sumpter-horse; for (to speak sensibly), what burthen is there so heavy to a porter's back as virginity to a well-complexioned young lady's thoughts? (Look no body hearken.) By this hand the noblest vow is that of virginity, because the hardest. I will have the prince. 237

_Phi._ But by what means, sweet madam?

_Dul._ O Philocalia, in heavy sadness and unwanton phrase, there lies all the brain-work. By what means! I could fall into a miserable blank verse presently!

_Phi._ But, dear madam, your reason of loving him?

_Dul._ Faith, only a woman's reason, because I was expressly forbidden to love him. At the first view I liked him; and no sooner had my father's wisdom mistrusted my liking, but I grew loth his judgment should err; I pitied he should prove a fool in his old age, and without cause mistrust me. 248

_Phi._ But, when you saw no means of manifesting your affection to him, why did not your hopes perish?

_Dul._ O Philocalia! that difficulty only enflames me: when the enterprise is easy, the victory is inglorious. No, let my wise, aged, learned, intelligent father,--that can interpret eyes, understand the language of birds, interpret the grumbling of dogs and the conference of cats,--that can read even silence,--let him forbid all interviews, all speeches, all tokens, all messages, all (as he thinks) human means,--I will speak to the prince, court the prince, that he shall understand me;--nay, I will so stalk on the blind side of my all-knowing father's wit, that, do what his wisdom can, he shall be my only mediator, my only messenger, my only honourable spokesman;--he shall carry my favours, he shall amplify my affection;--nay, he shall direct the prince the means, the very way to my bed;--he, and only he, when he only can do this, and only would not do this, he only shall do this. 267

_Phi._ Only you shall then deserve such a husband. O love, how violent are thy passages!

_Dul._ Pish, Philocalia! 'tis against the nature of love not to be violent.

_Phi._ And against the condition of violence to be constant.

_Dul._ Constancy?--constancy and patience are virtues in no living creatures but centinels and anglers. Here's our father!

_Enter_ GONZAGO, HERCULES, _and_ GRANUFFO.

_Gon._ What, did he think to walk invisibly before our eyes? And he had Gyges' ring I would find him.

_Herc._ 'Fore Jove, you rated him with emphasis.

_Gon._ Did we not shake the prince with energy? 280

_Herc._ With Ciceronian elocution?

_Gon._ And most pathetic, piercing oratory?

_Herc._ If he have any wit in him, he will make sweet use of it.

_Gon._ Nay, he shall make sweet use of it ere I have done. Lord, what overweening fools these young men be, that think us old men sots!

_Herc._ Arrant asses.

_Gon._ Doting idiots, when we, God wot--ha, ha! 'las, silly souls! 290

_Herc._ Poor weak creatures, to men of approved reach.

_Gon._ Full years.

_Herc._ Of wise experience.

_Gon._ And approved wit.

_Herc._ Nay, as for your wit----

_Gon._ Count Granuffo, as I live, this Faunus is a rare understander of men--is a' not? Faunus, this Granuffo is a right wise good lord, a man of excellent discourse and never speaks his signs to me, and men of profound reach instruct abundantly; he begs suits with signs, gives thanks with signs, puts off his hat leisurely, maintains his beard learnedly, keeps his lust privately, makes a nodding leg courtly, and lives happily. 303

_Herc._ Silence is an excellent modest grace, but especially before so instructing a wisdom as that of your excellency's. As for his advancement, you gave it most royally, because he deserves it least duly, since to give to virtuous desert is rather a due requital than a princely magnificence, when to undeservingness it is merely all bounty and free grace. 310

_Gon._ Well spoke, 'tis enough. Don Granuffo, this Faunus is a very worthy fellow, and an excellent courtier, and beloved of most of the princes of Christendom, I can tell you; for howsoever some severer dissembler grace him not when he affronts him in the full face, yet, if he comes behind or on the one side, he'll leer and put back his head upon him. Be sure, be you two precious to each other.

_Herc._ Sir, myself, my family, my fortunes, are all devoted, I protest, most religiously to your service. I vow my whole self only proud in being acknowledged by you, but as your creature; and my only utmost ambition is by my sword or soul to testify how sincerely I am consecrated to your adoration. 324

_Gon._ 'Tis enough; art a gentleman, Fawn?

_Herc._ Not uneminently[213] descended; for were the pedigrees of some fortunately mounted, searched, they would be secretly found to be of the blood of the poor Fawn. 329

_Gon._ 'Tis enough; you two I love heartily; for thy silence never displeaseth me, nor thy speech ever offend me. See, our daughter attends us.--My fair, my wise, my chaste, my duteous, and indeed, in all, my daughter (for such a pretty soul for all the world have I been), what! I think we have made the prince to feel his error. What! did he think he had weak fools in hand? No, he shall find, as wisely said Lucullus, Young men are fools that go about to gull us. 338

_Dul._ But sooth, my wisest father, the young prince is yet forgetful, and resteth resolute in his much-unadvised love.

_Gon._ Is't possible?

_Dul._ Nay, I protest, what ere he feign to you (as he can feign most deeply)----

_Gon._ Right, we know it; for if you mark'd, he would not once take sense of any such intent from him. O impudence, what mercy canst thou look for!

_Dul._ And as I said, royally wise and wisely royal father----

_Gon._ I think that eloquence is hereditary. 350

_Dul._ Tho' he can feign, yet I presume your sense is quick enough to find him.

_Gon._ Quick, is't not, Granuffo?[214] Is't not, Fawn? Why, I did know you feigned, nay, I do know (by the just sequence of such impudence) that he hath laid some second siege unto thy bosom, with most miraculous conveyances of some rich present on thee.

_Dul._ O bounteous Heaven, how liberal are your graces to my Nestor-like father!

_Gon._ Is't not so, say? 360

_Dul._ 'Tis so, oraculous father; he hath now more than courted with bare phrases. See, father, see, the very bane of honour, Corruption of justice and virginity: Gifts hath he left with me. O view this scarf; This, as he call'd it, most envièd silk, That should embrace an arm, or waist, or side, Which he much fear'd should never--this he left, Despite my much resistance. 369

_Gon._ Did he so? Give't me. I'll give't him. I'll regive his token with so sharp advantage.

_Dul._ Nay, my worthy father, read but these cunning letters.

_Gon._ Letters--where? [_Reads._ _Prove you but justly loving, and conceive me, Till justice leave the gods, I'll never leave thee. For tho' the duke seem wise, he'll find this strain, Where two hearts yield consent, all thwarting's vain._ And darest thou then aver this wicked writ? O world of wenching wiles, where is thy wit? 380

_Enter_ TIBERIO.

_Dul._ But other talk for us were far more fit, For, see, here comes the Prince Tiberio.

_Gon._ Daughter, upon thy obedience, instantly take thy chamber.

_Dul._ Dear father, in all duty, let me beseech your leave, that I may but----

_Gon._ Go to, go to! you are a simple fool, a very simple animal.

_Dul._ Yet[215] let me (the loyal servant of simplicity)----

_Gon._ What would you do? What! are you wiser than your father?--will you direct me? 391

_Dul._ Heavens forbid such insolence! Yet let me denounce my hearty hatred.

_Gon._ To what end?

_Dul._ Tho't be but in the prince's ear (since fits not maiden's blush to rail aloud).

_Gon._ Go to, go to!

_Dul._ Let me but check his heat.

_Gon._ Well, well.

_Dul._ And take him down, dear father, from his full pride of hopes. 401

_Gon._ So, so, I say once more, go in.

[_Exeunt_ DULCIMEL _and_ PHILOCALIA.

I will not lose the glory of reproof. Is this the office of ambassadors, My Lord Tiberio? Nay, duty of a son; nay, piety of a man?-- (A figure call'd in art _gradatio_: With some learned, _Climax_)--to court a royal lady For's master, father, or perchance his friend, And yet intend the purchase of his beauty 410 To his own use?

_Tib._ Your grace doth much amaze me.

_Gon._ Ay, feign dissemble; 'las! we are now grown old, weak-sighted; alas! any one fools us.

_Tib._ I deeply vow, my lord----

_Gon._ Peace, be not damn'd, have pity on your soul. I confess, sweet prince, for you to love my daughter, Young and witty, Of equal mixture both of mind and body, Is neither wondrous nor unnatural; Yet to forswear and vow against one's heart, 420 Is full of base, ignoble cowardice, Since 'tis most plain, such speeches do contemn Heaven and fear men (that's sententious[216] now).

_Tib._ My gracious lord, if I unknowingly have err'd.

_Gon._ Unknowingly! can you blush, my lord? Unknowingly! why, can you write these lines, Present this scarf, unknowingly, my lord, To my dear daughter? Um, unknowingly? Can you urge your suit, prefer your gentlest love, In your own right, to her too easy breast, 430 That, God knows, takes too much compassion on ye? (And so she pray'd me say) unknowingly? My lord, if you can act these things unknowingly, Know we can know your actions so unknown; For we are old, I will not say in wit (For even[217] just worth must not approve itself); But take your scarf, for she vows she'll not wear it.

_Tib._ Nay, but my lord----

_Gon._ Nay, but my lord, my lord, You must take it, wear it, keep it, For by the honour of our house and blood, 440 I will deal wisely, and be provident; Your father shall not say I pandarised, Or fondly wink'd at your affection; No, we'll be wise. This night our daughter yields Your father's answer; this night we invite Your presence therefore to a feastful waking; To-morrow to Ferrara you return, With wishèd answer to your royal father; Meantime, as you respect our best relation Of your fair bearing (Granuffo, is't not good?)-- 450 Of your fair bearing, rest more anxious-- (No, anxious is not a good word)--rest more vigilant Over your passion, both forbear and bear, _Anechou e apechou_[218] (that's Greek to you now), Else your youth shall find Our nose not stuff'd, but we can take the wind And smell you out--I say no more but thus-- And smell you out. What! ha' we not our eyes, Our nose and ears? What! are these hairs unwise? Look to't, _quos ego_,[219]-- 460 (A figure called _Aposiopesis_ or _Increpatio_).

[_Exeunt_ GONZAGO _and_ GRANUFFO.

_Tib._ [_reads the embroidered scarfs_] _Prove you but justly loving and conceive me, Justice shall leave the gods before I leave thee:_ Imagination prove as true as thou art sweet! _And tho' the duke seem wise, he'll find this strain, When two hearts yield consent, all thwarting's vain._ O quick, deviceful, strong-brain'd Dulcimel! Thou art too full of wit to be a wife. Why dost thou love? or what strong heat gave life To such faint hopes? O woman! thou art made 470 Most only of, and for, deceit; thy form Is nothing but delusion of our eyes, Our ears, our hearts, and sometimes of our hands; Hypocrisy and vanity brought forth, Without male heat, thy most, most monstrous being. Shall I abuse my royal father's trust, And make myself a scorn--the very food Of rumour infamous? Shall I, that ever loath'd A thought of woman, now begin to love My worthy father's right?--break faith to him 480 That got me, to get a faithless woman?

_Herc._ True, My worthy lord, your grace is _verè pius_.

_Tib._ To take from my good father The pleasure of his eyes and of his hands, Imaginary solace of his fading life!

_Herc._ His life, that only lives to your sole good!

_Tib._ And myself good--his life's most only end.

_Herc._ Which, O! may never end!

_Tib._ Yes, Fawn, in time. We must not prescribe to nature everything. There's some end in everything. 490

_Herc._ But in a woman. Yet, as she is a wife, she is oftentimes the end of her husband.

_Tib._ Shall I, I say----

_Herc._ Shall you, I say, confound your own fair hopes, Cross all your course of life, make your self vain To your once steady graveness, and all to second The ambitious quickness of a monstrous love, That's only out of difficulty born, And followed only for the miracle In the obtaining? I would ha' ye now 500 Tell her father all.

_Tib._ Uncompassionate vild man! Shall I not pity if I cannot love? Or rather, shall I not for pity love So wondrous wit in so most wondrous beauty, That with such rarest art and cunning means Entreats[220] what I (thing valueless) am not Worthy to grant, my admiration? Are fathers to be thought on in our loves?

_Herc._ True, right, sir; Fathers or friends, a crown and love hath none, 510 But are allied to themselves alone. Your father, I may boldly say, he's an ass To hope that you'll forbear to swallow What he cannot chew; nay, 'tis injustice, truly, For him to judge it fit that you should starve For that which only he can feast his eye withal, And not disgest.[221]

_Tib._ O! Fawn, what man of so cold earth But must love such a wit in such a body! Thou last and only rareness of Heaven's works, From best of man made model of the gods! 520 Divinest woman, thou perfection Of all proportion's beauty, made when Jove was blithe-- Well filled with nectar, and full friends with man-- Thou dear as air, necessary as sleep To careful man! Woman! O who can sin so deeply As to be curs'd from knowing of the pleasures Thy soft society, modest amorousness, Yields to our tedious life! Fawn, the duke shall not know this.

_Herc._ Unless you tell him. But what hope can live in you, 530 When your short stay and your most shorten'd conference, Not only actions, but even looks observ'd, Cut off all possibilities of obtaining?

_Tib._ Tush, Fawn, To violence of women, love, and wit, Nothing but not obtaining is impossible! _Notumque furens quid foemina possit._

_Herc._ But then, how rest you to your father true?

_Tib._ To him that only can give dues, she rests most due.

[_Exit._

_Herc._ Even so. He that with safety would well lurk in courts 540 To best-elected ends, of force is wrung To keep broad eyes, soft feet, long ears, and most short tongue; For 'tis of knowing creatures the main art To use quick hams, wide arms, and most close heart.

[205] Compare with this speech the fourth elegy of Book II. of Ovid's _Amores_.

[206] Eds. 1. and 3. "moving."

[207] Eds. 1. and 3. "and."

[208] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "for if my humour love."

[209] So ed. 1.--Eds. 2. and 3. "renowned." (For the form "renowmed" cf. Marlowe, i. 24, &c.)

[210] Eds. 1. and 3. "13."

[211] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "I iest;" ed. 3. "I rest."

[212] Eds. 1. and 3. "protest ignorant."--Ed. 2. "prote ignorance."

[213] So eds. 1. and 3.--Ed. 2. "Not _one eminently_."

[214] Old eds. give:-- "_Gon._ Quicke, ist not? _Gra._ Ist not Fawne Why," &c.

[215] Eds. 1. and 3. "Yet let me _be_ the loyal," &c.

[216] Ed. 2. "sentious."

[217] Ed. 3. "every."

[218] Eds. 1. and 2. "anexou e ampexou."--Ed. 3. "anechon, eapechon." The reference is to the maxim of Epictetus (reported by Aulus Gellius, xvii. 19)--'Anechou kai Apechou.

[219] Virg., _Æn._ i. 135.

[220] Eds. 1. and 2. read:--"Entreates? What (I thing valules) am not, Worthie but to graunt," &c. Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1. give:--"Entreates? What I thinke valulesse and not Worthy but to graunt," &c.

[221] Old form of "digest."