of these narrow-eyed decypherers, I confess, that will extort strange and abstruse meanings out of any subject, be it never so conspicuous and innocently delivered. But to such, where'er they sit concealed, let them know, the author defies them and their writing-tables; and hopes no sound or safe judgment will infect itself with their contagious comments, who, indeed, come here only to pervert and poison the sense of what they hear, and for nought else.

Enter cavalier SHIFT, with two Si quisses (bills) in his hand.

Mit. Stay, what new mute is this, that walks so suspiciously?

Cor. O, marry, this is one, for whose better illustration, we must desire you to presuppose the stage, the middle isle in Paul's, and that, the west end of it.

Mit. So, sir, and what follows?

Cor. Faith, a whole volume of humour, and worthy the unclasping.

Mit. As how? What name do you give him first?

Cor. He hath shift of names, sir: some call him Apple-John, some signior Whiffe; marry, his main standing name is cavalier Shift the rest are but as clean shirts to his natures.

9 the author defies them and their writing-tables ;] It was customary for the critics of Jonson's time to carry pocketbooks (tables) to the theatres, for the purpose of writing down such passages as struck them to this there are many allusions in our old plays. Thus, in the Malecontent: "I am one that "hath seen this play often; I have most of the jests here in (6 my table-book," And, in the Woman Hater: "If there be 66 any lurking among you in corners, with table-books, who have tr some hopes to find fit matter to feed their malice, let them "clasp them up and slink away."

Mit. And what makes he in Paul's now?

Cor. Troth, as you see, for the advancement of a si quis, or two; wherein he has so varied himself, that if any of 'em take, he may hull up and down in the humourous world a little longer.

Mit. It seems then he bears a very changing sail?
Cor. O, as the wind, sir: here comes more.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The Middle Aisle of St. Paul's.

Shift. [coming forward.] This is rare, I have set up my bills without discovery.'

Enter ORANGE.

Orange. What, signior Whiffe! what fortune has brought you into these west parts?

1 This is rare, I have set up my bills without discovery.] i. e. his Si quisses, his advertisements. "It appears," says a late commentator on Shakspeare," from a very rare little piece, that St. Paul's was a place in which bills were posted up." This is the very foppery of black-letter reading. The play before us, which is to be found in every library in the kingdom, and which conveys more information on the subject than can be picked out of all the rarities in the critic's cabinet, is not once noticed! I know that Jonson is no favourite with the idolizers of Shakspeare, who never mention him but to calumniate his name, and I do not therefore address myself to them; but I can assure those unprejudiced readers, who are solicitous to become acquainted with the domestic manners and pursuits of our forefathers, that they will find more to gratify this rational curiosity in the dramas of this great poet, than in all the writers of his age. Jonson was a keen observer, and an accurate describer of the scenes before him: added to which,

Shift. Troth, signior, nothing but your rheum; I have been taking an ounce of tobacco hard by here, with a gentleman, and I am come to spit private in Paul's. 'Save you, sir.

Orange. Adieu, good signior Whiffe.

Enter CLOVE.

[Passes onward.

Clove. Master Apple-John! you are well met: when shall we sup together, and laugh, and be fat with those good wenches, ha?

Shift. Faith, sir, I must now leave you, upon a few humours and occasions; but when you please, sir. [Exit. Clove. Farewell, sweet Apple-John! I wonder there are no more store of gallants here.

Mit. What be these two, signior?

Cor. Marry, a couple, sir, that are mere strangers to the whole scope of our play; only come to walk a turn or two in this scene of Paul's, by chance.

Orange. Save you, good master Clove!
Clove. Sweet master Orange.

his idea of the true intent of comedy, and the examples of Aristophanes and Plautus, his principal models, came in aid of his natural bent, and converted what was inclination into duty.

A modern reader, Whalley says, will be surprised, perhaps, to find business of the following description transacted in St. Paul's; but the middle aisle of this church was, in the poet's days, the common resort of bullies, knights of the post, and others of the like reputable professions, who carried on their various occupations here with great success: indeed, bargains of all kinds were made here as commonly as on the Exchange, and with as little feeling of impropriety. The reader who wishes for more on the subject, may turn to a very curious passage in Reed's Old Plays, Vol. VII. p. 136.

Mit. How! Clove and Orange?

Cor. Ay, and they are well met, for 'tis as dry an Orange as ever grew: nothing but salutation, and, O lord, sir! and, It pleases you to say so, sir! one that can laugh at a jest for company with a most plausible and extemporal grace; and some hour after in private ask you what it was. The other monsieur, Clove, is a more spiced youth; he will sit you a whole afternoon sometimes in a bookseller's shop, reading the Greek, Italian, and Spanish, when he understands not a word of either; if he had the tongues to his suits, he were an excellent linguist.

Clove. Do you hear this reported for certainty? Orange. O lord, sir.

Enter PUNTARVOLO and CARLO, followed by two Serving-men, one leading a dog, the other bearing a bag.

Punt. Sirrah, take my cloak; and you, sir knave, follow me closer. If thou losest my dog, thou shalt die a dog's death; I will hang thee.

Car. Tut, fear him not, he's a good lean slave, he loves a dog well, I warrant him; I see by his looks, I :-Mass, he's somewhat like him. 'Slud [to the Servant.] poison him, make him away with a crooked pin, or somewhat, man; thou may'st have more security of thy life; and -So, sir; what! you have not put out your whole venture yet, have you?

Punt. No, I do want yet some fifteen or sixteen hundred pounds; but my lady, my wife, is Out of her Humour, she does not now go.

2

My wife is out of her humour.] Jonson forgot to account for this but he has so many characters on his hands, that the loss of one may well be overlooked.

Car. No! how then?

Punt. Marry, I am now enforced to give it out, upon the return of myself, my dog, and my

cat.

Car. Your cat! where is she?

Punt. My squire has her there, in the bag; sirrah, look to her. How lik'st thou my change, Carlo?

Car. Oh, for the better, sir; your cat has nine lives, and your wife has but one.

Punt. Besides, she will never be sea-sick, which will save me so much in conserves. When saw you signior Sogliardo?

Car. I came from him but now; he is at the herald's office yonder; he requested me to go afore, and take up a man or two for him in Paul's, against his cognizance was ready.

Punt. What, has he purchased arms, then? Car. Ay, and rare ones too; of as many colours as e'er you saw any fool's coat in your life.' I'll go look among yond' bills, an I can fit him with legs to his arms.

Punt. With legs to his arms! Good! I will go with you, sir. [They go to read the bills.

Enter FASTIDIOUS, DELIRO, and MACILENTE.

4

Fast. Come, let's walk in Mediterraneo: I assure you, sir, I am not the least respected among ladies; but let that pass: do you know how to go into the presence, sir?

Maci. Why, on my feet, sir.

3 Of as many colours as e'er you saw any fool's coat in your life.] Jonson plays on the word: the privileged fool of his days wore a parti-coloured dress.

4 Come, let's walk in Mediterraneo :] In the middle aisle: the quarto reads, in the Mediterraneum.