Lord. Is it poffible, he should know what he is, and be that he is? [Afide. Par. I would, the cutting of my garments would ferve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish fword. Lord. We cannot afford you fo [Afide. Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to fay, it was [Afide [Afide. Par. Or to drown my cloaths, and fay, I was ftript. Lord. Hardly ferve. Par. Though I fwore, I leap'd from the window of the citadel Lord. How deep? Par. Thirty fathom. [Afide. Lord. Three great oaths would fcarce make that be believed. [Afide. Par. I would, I had any drum of the enemies; I would fwear, I recover'd it. Lord. You fhall hear one anon. [Afide. Par. A drum now of the enemies! [Alarum within. Lord. Throco movoufus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. Par. Oh! ranfom, ranfom:-do not hide mine eyes. [They feize bim and blindfold him, Inter. Bofkos thromuldo bofkos. Par. I know, you are the Muskos regiment, And I fhall lofe my life for want of language. If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, Italian, or French, let him speak to me, I'll difcover That which fhall undo the Florentine. Inter. Bofkos vauvado; I understand thee, and can fpeak thy tongue; Kerelybonto,- -Sir, betake thee to thy faith, for feventeen poniards are at thy bofom. Par. Oh! Inter. Oh, pray, pray, pray. Mancha ravancha dulche. Lord. Ofceoribi dulchos volivorco. Inter. The General is content to fpare thee yet, And, hood-winkt as thou art, will lead thee on To gather from thee. Haply thou may'st inform Something to fave thy life. Par. Oh let me live, And all the fecrets of our Camp I'll fhew; Inter. But wilt thou faithfully? Par. If I do not, damn me." Inter. Acordo linta. Come on, thou art granted space. [Exit. [A fhort alarum within. Lord. Go, tell the Count Roufillon and my brother, We've caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled 'Till we do hear from them. Sol. Captain, I will. Lord. He will betray us all unto ourselves, Inform 'em That. Sol. So I will, Sir. Lord. 'Till then I'll keep him dark and fafely lockt, Ber. T [Exeunt. HEY told me, that your name was Fon- Dia. No, my good Lord, Diana. Ber. Titled Goddefs, And worth it with addition! but, fair foul, In In your fine frame hath love no quality? My Mother did but duty: fuch, my Lord, Ber. No more o' that! I pr'ythee do not strive against my vows: By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever Dia. Ay, fo you serve us, 9 No more o' that! I pr'ythee do not frive against my vows: I was compell'd to her. ] I know not well what Bertram can mean by entreating Diana not to firive against his vows. Diana has juft mentioned his wife, fo that the vows feem to relate to his marriage, In this fenfe not Diana, but Himself, ftrives against his vows. His vows indeed may mean vows made to Diana; but, in that cafe, to frive against is not properly used for to reject, nor does this fenfe cohere well with his first exclamation of impatience at the mention of his wife. No more of that! Perhaps we might read, I pr'ythee do not drive against my vows. Do not run upon that topick; talk of any thing elfe that I can bear to hear. I have another conceit upon this paffage, which I would be thought to offer without much confidence. No more of that! Ipythee do not thrive-against my voice I was compell'd to br. Diana tells him unexpectedly of his wife. He anfwers with perturbation, No more of that! I pr'ythee do not play the confeffor against my own consent I was compelled to her. When a young profligate finds his courtship fo gravely repreffed by an admonition of his duty, he very naturally defires the girl not to take upon her the office of a confeffor. 'Till we serve you: but when you have our roles, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our bareness. Ber. How have I fworn! Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth z But the plain fingle vow, that is vow'd true; 'What is not holy, that we fwear not 'bides, But take the High'ft to witnefs: then, pray What is not holy, that we jwear not BY,] Yes, nothing is more common than fuch kind of oaths. But Diana is not here acc.fing Bertram for fwearing by a Being not holy, but for fwearing to an unholy purpofe; as is evident from the preceding lines. 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the Truth: But the plain fimple vow, that is vow'd true. The line in queftion, therefore, is evidently corrupt, and should be read thus, What is n t holy, that we fwear, not 'BIDES, i. e. If we wear to an unholy purpose the oath abides not, but is diffolved in the making This is an answer to the purpose. She fubjoins the reafon two or three lines after, this has no holding, Tofwar by him, whom I proteft to love, That I will work against him. i. e. That oath can never hold, whofe fubject is to offend and difpleafe that Being, whom, I profefs, in the act of fwearing by him, to love and reverence. What may have mifled the editors into the common reading was, perhaps, miftaking Ber tram's words above, tell me, By love's own fweet confiraint, to be an oath; whereas it only fignifies, being confirained by love. WARBURTON. This is an acute and excellent conjecture, and I have done it the due honour of exalting it to the text; yet, methinks, there is fomething yet wanting. The fol lowing words, but take the High` to witness, even though it be understood as an anticipation or af fumption in this fense,—but now fuppofe that you take the Higheft to witnefs, has not fufficient retion to the antecedent sentence, I will propofe a reading nearer to the furface, and let it take its chance. Bert. How have I sworn! that make the truth; Bert. What is not bely, that we fwear not by, Bertram means to enforce his fuit, by telling her, that he has bound himself to her, not by the petty proteftations ufual among lovers, but by vows of greater folemnity. She then makes a proper and rational reply. If If I fhould fwear by Jove's great Attributes That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths Ber. Change it, change it: Be not fo holy-cruel. Love is holy, stand no more off, But give thyself unto my fick defires, Which then recover. Say, thou art mine; and ever My love, as it begins, fhall fo perfever. Dia. I fee, that men make hopes in fuch affairs That we'll forfake ourfelves. Give me that ring. Ber. I'll lend it thee, my Dear, but have no power To give it from me. Dia. Will you not, my Lord? Ber. It is an Honour 'longing to our House, Dia. Mine Honour's fuch a ring; Ber. Here, take my ring. My House, my Honour, yea, my life be thine, *To fwear by bim whom I pro- That I will work against him.] This paffage likewife appears to me corrupt She fwears not by him whom she loves, but by Ju piter. I believe we may read, to fwear to him. There is, fays fhe, no holding, no confiftency, in fwearing to one that I love him, when I wear it only to injure him. |