in being the invisible spectators of this strange show now to be acted! Amo. Plant yourself there, sir; and observe me. You shall now, as well be the ocular, as the ear-witness, how clearly I can refel that paradox, or rather pseudodox, of those, which hold the face to be the index of the mind, which, I assure you, is not so in any politic creature: for instance; I will now give you the particular and distinct face* of every your most noted species of persons, as your merchant, your scholar, your soldier, your lawyer, courtier, &c. and each of these so truly, as you would swear, but that your eye shall see the variation of the lineament, it were my most proper and genuine aspect. First, for your merchant, or city-face, 'tis thus; a dull, plodding face, still looking in a direct line, forward: there is no great matter in this face. Then have you your student's, or academic face, which is here an honest, simple, and methodical face; but somewhat more spread than the former. The third is your soldier's face, a menacing and astounding face, that looks broad and big the grace of this face consisteth much in a beard. The anti-face to this is your lawyer's face, a contracted, subtile, and intricate face, full of quirks and turnings, a labyrinthean face, now angularly, now circularly, every way aspected. Next is your statist's face, a serious, solemn, and supercilious face, full of formal and square gravity; the eye for the most part deeply and artificially shadow'd: there is great judgment required in the making of this face. But now, * I will now give you the particular and distinct face, &c.] This corroborates my explanation of the passage, p. 226. That "the face is the index of the mind" was "held" by Ovid, Juvenal, and others. Next is your statist's face,] i. e. your statesman's. Thus Marmion; "Adorned with that even mixture of fluency. and grace, as are required both in a statist, and a courtier." The Antiquary, A. i. S. 1. WHAL. to come to your face of faces, or courtier's face; 'tis of three sorts, according to our subdivision of a courtier, elementary, practic, and theoric. Your courtier theoric, is he that hath arrived to his farthest, and doth now know the court rather by speculation than practice; and this is his face: a fastidious and oblique face; that looks as it went with a vice, and were screw'd thus. Your courtier practic, is he that is yet in his path, his course, his way, and hath not touch'd the punctilio or point of his hopes; his face is here: a most promising, open, smooth, and overflowing face, that seems as it would run and pour itself into you: somewhat a northerly face. Your courtier elementary, is one but newly enter'd, or as it were in the alphabet, or ut-re-mi-fa-sol-la of courtship. Note well this face, for it is this you must practise. Aso. I'll practise them all, if you please, sir. Amo. Ay, hereafter you may: and it will not be altogether an ungrateful study. For, let your soul be assured of this, in any rank or profession whatever, the more general or major part of opinion goes with the face, and simply respects nothing else. Therefore, if that can be made exactly, curiously, exquisitely, thoroughly, it is enough: but for the present you shall only apply yourself to this face of the elementary courtier, a light, revelling, and protesting face, now blushing, now smiling, which you may help much with a wanton wagging of your head, thus, (a feather will teach you,) or with kissing your finger that hath the ruby, or playing with some string of your band, which is a most quaint kind of melancholy besides: or, if among ladies, laughing loud, and crying up your own wit, though perhaps borrow'd, it is not amiss. Where is your page? call for your casting-bottle, and place your mirror in your 8 hat, as I told you: so! Come, look not pale, observe me, set your face, and enter. Mer. O, for some excellent painter, to have taken the copy of all these faces. Aso. Prosaites! [Aside. Amo. Fie! I premonish you of that: in the court, boy, lacquey, or sirrah. Cos. Master, lupus in" -O, 'tis Prosaites. Enter PROSAITES. Aso. Sirrah, prepare my casting-bottle; I think I must be enforced to purchase me another page; you see how at hand Cos waits here. [Exeunt AMORPHUS, ASOTUS, Cos, and PROSAITES. Mer. So will he too, in time. Cup. What's he, Mercury? Mer. A notable smelt.' One that hath newly entertain'd the beggar to follow him, but cannot get 8 Place your mirror in your hat.] "It should seem," Whalley says, "from this passage, that the finical courtiers carried a pocketmirror about them, which they sometimes put in their hats." There can be no doubt of it: both sexes wore them publicly; the men, as brooches, or ornaments in their hats and the women, at their girdles, (see Massinger, vol. iv. p. 8,) or on their breasts; nay, sometimes in the centre of their fans, which were then made of feathers, inserted into silver or ivory tubes. Lovelace has a poem on his mistress's fan, "with a looking-glass in it." This is a part of her address to it : "My lively shade thou ever shalt retaine In thy inclosed feather-framed glasse; 9 Master, lupus in P. 244. 1 A notable smelt.] -] fabulâ, the Latin proverb referred to, The quarto reads finch. Smelt, like gudgeon, is used by our old writers for a gull, a simpleton. Thus Beaumont and Fletcher : "These direct men, they are no men of fashion; Love's Pilgrimage, A. v. S. 2. 2 He is him to wait near enough. 'Tis Asotus, the heir of Philargyrus; but first I'll give ye the other's character, which may make his the clearer. He that is with him is Amorphus, a traveller, one so made out of the mixture of shreds of forms, that himself is truly deform'd. He walks most commonly with a clove or pick-tooth in his mouth, he is the very mint of compliment, all his behaviours are printed, his face is another volume of essays, and his beard is an Aristarchus. He speaks all cream skimm'd, and more affected than a dozen waiting women. his own promoter in every place. The wife of the ordinary gives him his diet to maintain her table in discourse; which, indeed, is a mere tyranny over her other guests, for he will usurp all the talk: ten constables are not so tedious.3 He is no great shifter; once a year his apparel is ready to revolt. He doth use much to arbitrate quarrels, and fights himself, exceeding well, out at a window. He will lie cheaper than any beggar, and louder than most clocks; for which he is right properly accommodated to the Whetstone, his page. The other gallant is his Zany, and 2 But first I'll give ye the other's character, &c.] This is all very inartificial. The plot stands still while the author is displaying his dexterity in drawing individual and insulated characters. doubtedly, if keen, vigorous, and discriminating delineations of this nature were sufficient of themselves to constitute a legitimate drama, no man who ever wrote for the stage would stand in competition with Jonson. But the vivifying soul of the drama is action. Of this, unfortunately, we have but little; and that little is nearly overlooked amidst a minute and tiresome description of what the progress of the plot alone should have unfolded. 3 Ten constables are not so tedious.] This is said to be an attack on the constables in Much Ado about Nothing, and Measure for Measure. The last of these comedies, be it observed, was written full two years after Cynthia's Revels! and the first, probably, about as many months, for it was not brought on the stage till 1600. The prolixity, as well as the dulness, of a constable, was proverbial; and Shakspeare, Jonson, and hundreds besides, turned it to a humorous account. This is the whole of the matter. doth most of these tricks after him; sweats to imitate him in every thing to a hair, except a beard, which is not yet extant. He doth learn to make strange sauces, to eat anchovies, maccaroni, bovoli, fagioli,* and caviare, because he loves them; speaks as he speaks, looks, walks, goes so in clothes and fashion: is in all as if he were moulded of him. Marry, before they met, he had other very pretty sufficiencies, which yet he retains some light impression of; as frequenting a dancing-school, and grievously torturing strangers with inquisition after his grace in his galliard. He buys a fresh acquaintance at any rate. His eyes and his raiment confer much together as he goes in the street. He treads nicely like the fellow that walks upon ropes, especially the first Sunday of his silk stockings; and when he is most neat and new, you shall strip him with commendations. Cup. Here comes another. [CRITES passes over the stage. Mer. Ay, but one of another strain, Cupid; this fellow weighs somewhat. Cup. His name, Hermes ? Mer. Crites. A creature of a most perfect and divine temper: one, in whom the humours and elements are peaceably met, without emulation of precedency; he is neither too fantastically melancholy, too slowly phlegmatic, too lightly sanguine, or too rashly choleric; but in all so composed and ordered, as it is clear Nature went about some full work, she did more than make a man when she made him. His discourse is like his behaviour, uncommon, but ▲ Bovoli, fagioli, &c.] These were delicacies in Jonson's days, and probably for some time after the first were snails, or rather cockles; and the latter, French beans: they were dressed after the Italian manner, which was the fashion in vogue, and which gave way to a better taste at the Restoration. |