Cler. And wear discretion with it,

Or cast it off; let that direct your arm;
'Tis madness else, not valour, and more base
Than to receive a wrong.

Din. Why, would you have me

Sit down with a disgrace, and thank the doer?
We are not stoicks, and that passive courage
Is only now commendable in lacquies,

Peasants, and tradesmen, not in men of rank
And quality, as I am.

Cler. Do not cherish

That daring vice, for which the whole age suffers.

The blood of our bold youth, that heretofore
Was spent in honourable action,

Or to defend or to enlarge the kingdom,
For the honour of our country, and our prince,
Pours itself out with prodigal expence

Upon our mother's lap, the earth that bred us,
For every trifle. And these private duels,
Which had their first original from the French,
And for which, to this day, we are justly censured,
Are banish'd from all civil governments:
Scarce three in Venice, in as many years;
In Florence they are rarer; and in all
The fair dominions of the Spanish king,
They are never heard of. Nay, those neighbour
countries,

Which gladly imitate our other follies,

And come at a dear rate to buy them of us,
Begin now to detest them.

Din. Will you end yet?

Cler. And I have heard that some of our late

kings,

For the lie, wearing of a mistress' favour,
A cheat at cards or dice, and such-like causes,
Have lost as many gallant gentlemen

As might have met the Great Turk in the field,
With confidence of a glorious victory:
And shall we then-

Din. No more, for shame, no more!

Are you become a patron too? 'Tis a new one, No more on't, burn it, give it to some orator, To help him to enlarge his exercise:

With such a one it might do well, and profit

i Are you become a patron too? 'Tis a new one,

No more on't, burn it, give it to some orator.] Patron, here, has its Latin meaning, i. e. a pleader, or advocate; but the word speech, declamation, harangue, or something to that effect, must be understood to make the following line sense; and it is highly pro

The curate of the parish; but for Cleremont,
The bold and undertaking Cleremont,

To talk thus to his friend, 'his friend that knows him,

Dinant that knows his Cleremont, is absurd,
And mere apocrypha.

A

Cler. Why, what know you of me?

Din. Why, if thou hast forgot thyself, I'll tell thee,

And not look back, to speak of what thou wert
At fifteen, for at those years I have heard
Thou wast flesh'd, and enter'd bravely.

Cler. Well, sir, well!

Din. But yesterday thoù wast the common second Of all that only knew thee; thou hadst bills

bable that a whole line is lost, which might have been something like the following:

Are you become a patron too? How long

Have you been conning this speech ? 'Tis a new one ;

No more on't, &c.

Seward.

We suspect patron to be a corruption of pattern, a word which would give good sense to the passage, and comes very near that admitted into the text.-Ed. 1778.

This passage is obscure and ungrammatical. The editors suspect that we ought to read pattern, which is an ingenious supposition : perhaps parson may be the true reading, as Dinant says afterwards, [a few pages after this,]

"Yet but now

You did preach patience."-Mason.

The beginning of the speech is, it must be confessed, very puzzling, and all the above conjectures have been retained for the reader's perusal. Those of the last editors, and of Mason, it is présumed, will satisfy no one, and the explanation of Seward bids fairest to be the one intended, though his supposition of a line being lost cannot be admitted; for the ellipsis he mentions in his note is by no means unusual in our authors and their contemporaries.

1

Set up on every post, to give thee notice
Where any difference was, and who were parties.
And as, to save the charges of the law,

Poor men seek arbitrators, thou wert chosen
By such as knew thee not, to compound quarrels:
But thou wert so delighted with the sport,
That if there were no just cause, thou wouldst

make one,

Or be engaged thyself. This goodly calling
Thou hast follow'd five-and-twenty years, and

studied

The criticisms of contentions; and art thou
In so few hours transform'd? Certain, this night
Thou hast had strange dreams, or rather visions.
Cler. Yes, sir,

I have seen fools and fighters chain'd together,
And the fighters had the upper hand, and whipp'd
first,

The poor sots laughing at 'em. What I have been
It skills not; 3 what I will be is resolved on.
Din. Why, then you'll fight no more?
Cler. Such is my purpose.

Din. On no occasion?

Cler. There you stagger me.

thou hadst bills

Set up on every post.] This practice of challengers the readers of Ben Jonson must be well acquainted with. It seems to have been prevalent, to a ludicrous degree, in the reign of James I.; and one of the most fashionable places to put up these and other advertisements was St Paul's Cathedral. Valentine, in Wit without Money, says to the foolish wooers,

"I found you, people,

Betray'd into the hands of fencers', challengers',

Tooth-drawers' bills.

3 It skills not.] i. e. It matters not. So, in Shirley's Gamester, the Nephew says," I desire. no man's priviledge. It skills not whether I be kin to any man living."

Some kind of wrongs there are, which flesh and

blood

Cannot endure.

Din. Thou wouldst not willingly

Live a protested coward, or be call'd one?
Cler. Words are but words.

Din. Nor wouldst thou take a blow?

Cler. Not from my friend, though drunk; and from an enemy,

I think much less.

Din. There's some hope of thee left then. Wouldst thou hear me behind my back disgraced? Cler. Do you think I am a rogue? They that should do it

Had better been born dumb.
Din. Or in thy presence,
See me o'er-charged with odds?
Cler. I'd fall myself first.

Din. Wouldst thou endure thy mistress be ta'en from thee,

And thou sit quiet?

Cler. There you touch my honour;

No Frenchman can endure that.

Din. Plague upon thee!"

Why dost thou talk of peace then, that darest suffer
Nothing, or in thyself, or in thy friend,
That is unmanly?

Cler. That I grant, I cannot :

But I'll not quarrel with this gentleman

For wearing stammel breeches; or this gamester

4 Pl] So the two folios. It is singular to observe the extreme nicety of those persons, whether the masters of the revels, or the licensers of the press, who would not suffer such a word to stand. On the next page but one the same nicety has occasioned the same abridgment.

5 Stammel breeches.] i. e. Light red breeches. So in Ben Jonson's Entertainment at Welbeck: