this tack, he, going about, exerts cajolery; freshening their interview, towards its close, with the cavalier behest, "Go, wash thy face, and draw" (withdraw) "thy action." It is gratifying to know that, while her affaire de coeur with Falstaff miscarried, the matron— who must have been a destructive siren, for Nym, too, succumbed to her enticements,— lived to console herself with the affections of Pistol. As manifest countenance of the persuasion may be gathered from material in the 46th sonnet. Our subject's muse, having an nounced that the "eye and heart are at mor tal war," and that each adversary has sub mitted the grounds on which he relies, thus dilates: "Rut the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies, To 'cide this title is impanelled A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the Andheart. by their verdict is determined The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's As part; thus, mine eye's due is thine outward Andpart, my heart's right thine inward love of heart." While the fraternity must agree that the lyrist has, through the likeness chosen, faithfully sketched the routine of a trial by jury, it will be seen that the array in this proceeding might be challenged for favor by the defendant, as being under the plaintiff's thumb—tenants of the heart. It may be doubted, likewise, whether, according to the practice, relief is apportionable in the man ner sanctioned. A figure introduced by another sonnet, the 35th, corroborates the last witness: "For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense, (Thy adverse party is thy advocate,) And 'gainst myself a lawful plea com mence."
Let unbelievers hear the parting salute from that detonating salvo, through which Parolles—chief of braggarts, nonpareil among cravens—in "All's Well That Ends Well," lets loose his venomed abuse of Cap tain Dumain, before a group, as he wrongly fancies, of that officer's enemies. "Sir, for a quart a"ecu, he will sell the fee simple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually." Parolles, be ing displayed in the comedy as an ill-regu lated, frothy speaker, a goodly measure of rhodomontade enters into his tirade. Yet brayed with it in the mortar is quite enough sane instruction to render likely the posses sion of a quantum of juridical training by the mixer of the bolus. Other treatises there are—one of them suffered to mingle with the rippling flow of the incident in "The Merry Wives of Windsor"—which skim this topic, the holding of an estate in fee simple. There Mistress Page speaks of Falstaff as one who is on the point of making (the confirmed evil-liver ready, in his fleet declension, to sacrifice the equity of redemption) a convey ance of that interest to the devil. Ponder the flaying deliverance: "If the devil have him not in fee simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, at tempt us again!" Consider, furthermore, the address where the King in fatherly talk with Prince Henry —the occurrence invoked for the lesson it furnished a being much too eager to cheapen his dignity—asserts that Richard II. was strikingly blind to his own interest when he "enfeoffed himself to popularity." Judge Allen finds room for censure of this allusion as untechnical and strained. The fault—if such there be—of its not being possible to accommodate the phrase with a rigid technicalness might, one would think, be over looked in a flash of poetic imagery. And, as to the charge that the metaphor is strained, can it properly be argued that ety mology forbids notice of a mood which
