8

Which I can sell for thirty, when I have seen
All London in't, and London has seen me.
To-day I go to the Blackfriars play-house,
Sit in the view, salute all my acquaintance,
Rise up between the acts, let fall my cloke,
Publish a handsome man, and a rich suit,
As that's a special end why we go thither,
All that pretend to stand for't on the stage:
The ladies ask, who's that? for they do come
To see us, love, as we do to see them.
Now I shall lose all this, for the false fear

Of being laugh'd at! Yes, wusse. Let them laugh, wife.
Let me have such another cloke to-morrow,
And let them laugh again, wife, and again,
And then grow fat with laughing, and then fatter,
All my young gallants, let 'em bring their friends too;
Shall I forbid them? No, let heaven forbid them:
Or wit, if it have any charge on 'em. Come, thy ear
wife,

Is all I'll borrow of thee.-Set your watch, sir.-
Thou only art to hear, not speak a word, dove,
To aught he says: that I do give you in precept,
No less than counsel, on your wifehood, wife,
Not though he flatter you, or make court, or love,
As you must look for these, or say he rail;
Whate'er his arts be, wife, I will have thee
Delude them with a trick, thy obstinate silence.
I know advantages; and I love to hit

These pragmatic young men at their own weapons.
Is your watch ready? Here my sail bears for you:
Tack toward him, sweet pinnace. [He disposes his
wife to her place.] Where's your watch?

All London in't and London has seen me.]

Had Pope read this passage?

"Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too."

Wit. I'll set it, sir, with yours.

Mrs. Fitz. I must obey.

[Aside.

Man. Her modesty seems to suffer with her beauty, And so, as if his folly were away,

It were worth pity.

Fitz. Now they are right; begin, sir. But first, let me repeat the contract briefly. I am, sir, to enjoy this cloke I stand in, Freely, and as your gift; upon condition You may as freely speak here to my spouse, Your quarter of an hour, always keeping The measured distance of your yard or more, From my said spouse; and in my sight and hearing. This is your covenant?

Wit. Yes, but you'll allow

For this time spent now?

Fitz. Set them so much back.

Wit. I think I shall not need it.

Fitz. Well, begin, sir,

There is your bound, sir; not beyond that rush.
Wit. If you interrupt me, sir, I shall discloke you.-
The time I have purchased, lady, is but short;
And therefore, if I employ it thriftily,

I hope I stand the nearer to my pardon.
I am not here to tell you, you are fair,
Or lovely, or how well you dress you, lady;
I'll save myself that eloquence of your glass,
Which can speak these things better to you than I.
And 'tis a knowledge wherein fools may be
As wise as a court-parliament. Nor come I
With any prejudice or doubt, that you
Should, to the notice of your own worth, need
Least revelation. She's a simple woman,
Knows not her good, whoever knows her ill,

9 Now they are right,] i. e. the watches. Whalley says that the old copy has Now thou art right, meaning his wife; but he is mistaken, it reads as in the text.

And at all caracts.' That you are the wife
To so much blasted flesh, as scarce hath soul,
Instead of salt, to keep it sweet; I think,
Will ask no witnesses to prove. The cold
Sheets that you lie in, with the watching candle,
That sees, how dull to any thaw of beauty,

Pieces and quarters, half and whole nights sometimes,
The devil-given elfin squire, your husband,

Doth leave you, quitting here his

proper circle. For a much worse, in the walks of Lincoln's-inn, Under the elms, t' expect the fiend in vain there, Will confess for you.

Fitz. I did look for this jeer.

Wit. And what a daughter of darkness he does make you,

Lock'd up from all society, or object;

Your eye not let to look upon a face,

Under a conjurer's, or some mould for one,
Hollow and lean like his, but by great means,

As I now make; your own too sensible sufferings,
Without the extraordinary aids

Of spells, or spirits, may assure you, lady.
For my part, I protest 'gainst all such practice,
I work by no false arts, medicines, or charms
To be said forward and backward.

Fitz. No, I except―
Wit. Sir, I shall ease you.

Fitz. Mum.

[He offers to discloke him.

Wit. Nor have I ends, lady,

Upon you, more than this: to tell you how Love,

1 And at all caracts,] i. e. to the nicest point, to the minutest circumstance. Caracts, as Whalley has somewhere before observed, are the weights by which gold and precious stones are weighed and valued.

Instead of salt to keep it sweet.] See vol. iv. p. 447.

Beauty's good angel, he that waits upon her
At all occasions, and, no less than Fortune,
Helps the adventurous, in me makes that proffer,
Which never fair one was so fond to lose,

Who could but reach a hand forth to her freedom.
On the first sight I loved you, since which time,
Though I have travell'd, I have been in travail
More for this second blessing of your eyes,
Which now I've purchased, than for all aims else.
Think of it, lady, be your mind as active
As is your beauty: view your object well,
Examine both my fashion and my years;
Things that are like, are soon familiar :
And nature joys still in equality.

Let not the sign of the husband fright you, lady;
But ere your spring be gone, enjoy it. Flowers,
Though fair, are oft but of one morning; think,
All beauty doth not last until the autumn:
You grow old while I tell you this; and such
As cannot use the present, are not wise.

3

If Love and Fortune will take care of us,
Why should our will be wanting? This is all.
What do you answer, lady?

Fitz. Now the sport comes.

Let him still wait, wait, wait; while the watch goes, And the time runs, wife!

Wit. How! not any word?

Nay, then I taste a trick in't.-Worthy lady,
I cannot be so false to my own thoughts
Of your presumed goodness, to conceive

3 You grow old while I tell you this.]

Fugit hora: hoc quod loquor, inde est. Pers. Sat. 5.

WHAL.

To be so near, and yet miss, is unlucky: is not the expression rather from Horace?

4

This, as your rudeness, which I see's imposed.
Yet, since your cautelous jailor here stands by you,
And you are denied the liberty of the house,
Let me take warrant, lady, from your silence,
Which ever is interpreted consent,

To make your answer for you; which shall be
To as good purpose as I can imagine,
And what I think you'd speak.

Fitz. No, no, no, no.

Wit. I shall resume, sir.

Man. Sir, what do you mean?

Wit. One interruption more, sir, and you go Into your hose and doublet, nothing saves you : And therefore hearken. This is for your wife. Man. You must play fair, sir.

Wit. Stand for me, good friend.—

[Sets MANLY in his place, and speaks for the lady.

▲ Yet, since your cautelous jailor.] Our old writers seem to have included in this word not only the sense of wariness, but also of something artful and insidious, ingrafted upon it. In many instances, I will not say in all, it is clearly distinguished from cautious. Thus Knolles, "The Turke began to shrinke from that he had before promised, by cautelous expositions of his meaning." Hist. of the Turks, p. 904.

66

Now I am on this subject, I will take the opportunity of protesting against a singular practice" of the late editor of Beaumont and Fletcher, very injurious to the reputation of those writers. Whenever this gentleman is at a loss for the precise meaning of a word, he sets down the first which occurs to him, and observes that "its vague import is owing to the general laxity of language which prevailed in those times." It is not a little presumptuous in a foreigner who, like Mr. Weber, grubs all his knowledge of English out of glossaries and indexes, to call in question the proficiency of such writers as Beaumont, Fletcher, and others, the politest scholars, and best informed men of their time, in their own language. The fact is, (and I mention it for the sake of far other critics than Mr. Weber,) that they were in possession of a more precise and copious vocabulary than ourselves, and that they had a most profound and critical knowledge of every part of it. The difficulty which Mr. Weber finds in ascertaining their meaning, originates in his ignorance of the English tongue.