Your knave will heave the queen out, or your

king;

Besides, 'tis all on fortune.

Enter MAURUCCIO with ROSEILLI, and GIACOPO. Maur. Bless thee, most excellent Duke; I here present thee as worthy and learned a gentleman, as ever I (and yet I have lived threescore years) convers'd with. Take it from me, I have tried him, and [he] is worthy to be privy-counsellor to the greatest Turk in Christendom; of a most apparent and deep understanding, slow of speech, but speaks to the purpose. Come forward, sir, and appear before his highness in your own proper elements.

Ros. Will-tye-to da new toate sure la now.

Gia. A very senseless gentleman, and, please your highness, one that has a great deal of little wit, as they say.

Maur. Oh, sir, had you heard him as I did, de

"Then thirdly follow'd heaving of the maw',

A game without civility or law;

An odious play, and yet in court oft seen,

A sawcy knave to trump both king and queen."

and

I can give the reader no account of this "peevish (pettish) play;" it bears apparently some resemblance to Reversi, a burlesque of Whist, which, though unknown in this country, is a favourite game with the lower orders in France. I have frequently looked on, seen the players slide the quinola, the knave of trumps, under the king, or queen, (both its inferiors) and heave them respectively out of the circle. As the object is to lose as many tricks as possible, the game is sufficiently noisy and indecorous for a court. Ford adds, "Besides, 'tis all on fortune." This would apply very well to Reversi.

liver whole histories in the Tangay tongue, you would swear there were not such a linguist breath'd again; and did I but perfectly understand his language, I would be confident, in less than two hours, to distinguish the meaning of bird, beast, or fish naturally, as I myself speak Italian, my lord.— Well, he has rare qualities.

Duke. Now, prithee, question him, Mauruccio. Maur. I will, my lord.

Tell me, rare scholar, which, in thy opinion, Doth cause the strongest breath-garlic or onion?

Gia. Answer him, brother fool; do, do, speak thy mind, chuck, do.

Ros. Have bid seen all da fine knack, and de, e, naghtye tat-tle of da kna-ve dad la have so. Duke. We understand him not.

Maur. Admirable, I protest, duke; mark, oh duke, mark! What did I ask him, Giacopo? Gia. What caused the strongest breath, garlic or onions, I take it, sir.

Maur. Right, right by Helicon! and his answer is, that a knave has a stronger breath than any of them wisdom (or I am an ass) in the highest; a direct figure; put it down, Giacopo.

Duke. How happy is that idiot, whose ambi

tion

Is but to eat, and sleep, and shun the rod!

Men that have more of wit, and use it ill,
Are fools in proof.

Bian. True, my lord, there's many

Who think themselves most wise, that are most

fools.

8

D'Av. Bitter girds, if all were known;-butDuke. But what? speak out; plague on your muttering, grumbling!

I hear you, sir, what is't?

D'Av. Nothing, I protest, to your highness, pertinent to any moment.

Duke. Well, sir, remember.-Friend, you promised study.

I am not well in temper; come, Bianca:

Attend our friend, Ferentes.

[Exeunt all but FERN. Ros. FER. and MAUR.

Fern. Ferentes, take Mauruccio in with you,

He must be one in action.

Fer. Come, my lord,

I shall entreat your help.
Fern. I'll stay the fool,

And follow instantly.

Maur. Yes, pray, my lord.

[Exeunt FER. and MAUR.

Fern. How thrive your hopes now, cousin?

Bitter girds.] i. e. sarcasms, strokes of satire. Ford has contrived, by several direct quotations from Shakspeare, to put the reader in mind of Iago, to whom, for his misfortune, D'Avolos bears about the same degree of resemblance that the poor Duke does to Othello. D'Avolos, in short, is a mere spy, a pandar to the bad passions of others, without one supportable quality to redeem the baseness of his sycophancy, or relieve the dull uniformity of his malice.

Ros. Are we safe?

Then let me cast myself beneath thy foot,

True, virtuous lord. Know then, sir, her proud heart

Is only fix'd on you in such extremes
Of violence and passion, that I fear,

Or she'll enjoy you, or she'll ruin you.

Fern. Me, coz? by all the joys I wish to taste,

She is as far beneath my thought, as I
In soul above her malice.

Ros. I observ'd

Even now, a kind of dangerous pretence,'
In an unjointed phrase from D'Avolos.
I know not her intent; but this I know,
He has a working brain, is minister
To all my lady's counsels; and, my lord,
Pray heaven there have not any thing befallen
Within the knowledge of his subtle art,
To do you mischief!

Fern. Pish! should he or hell
Affront me in the passage of my fate,
I'd crush them into atomies.

Ros. I do admit you could; meantime, my lord, Be nearest to yourself; what I can learn,

A kind of dangerous pretence.] i. e. intent, design. Thus, in Macbeth:

"Against the undivulged pretence I fight

Of treasonable malice."

Atomies, which occurs in the next speech, is frequently used by our old writers for atoms, motes, &c.

You shall be soon inform'd of: here is all
We fools can catch the wise in; to unknot,
By privilege of coxcombs,' what they plot.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Another Room in the same.

Enter DUKE and D'AVOLOS.

Duke. Thou art a traitor: do not think the gloss Of smooth evasion, by your cunning jests, And coinage of your politician's brain, Shall jig me off; I'll know't, I vow I will. Did not I note your dark abrupted ends Of words half spoke? your

known?"

wells, if all were

Your short, "I like not that?" your girds and "buts?"

Yes, sir, I did; such broken language argues
More matter than your subtlety shall hide :
Tell me, what is't? by honour's self, I'll know.

D'Av. What would you know, my lord? I confess I owe my life and service to you, as to my prince; the one you have, the other you may take from me at your pleasure. Should I devise matter to feed your distrust, or suggest likelihoods without appearance?—what would you have me say? I know nothing.

By privilege of coxcombs,] i. e. of fool-caps.