right Of line, or lead, or rule, or squaire, to measure Her length, her breadth, her deepnes, or her hight; But him behooves to vew in compasse round All that the ocean graspes in his long armes; Be it where the yerely starre doth scortch the ground, Or where colde Boreas blowes his bitter stormes.

V. "Hencefoorth I hate whatever Nature made, And in her workmanship no pleasure finde, For they be all but vaine, and quickly fade 395 So soone as on them blowes the northern winde; They tarrie not, but flit and fall away, Leaving behind them nought but griefe of minde, And mocking such as thinke they long will stay.

Pluckes off my Beard, and blowes it in my face?

But that I'me subiect to the law & know My blowes are mortall, I would strike thee dead.

You know the Prince and know his noble nature, I thinck you know his powre, too: of all your wisdomes This will not show the least nor prove the meanest In good mens eyes, I thinck, in all that know ye, To seeke his love: gentle and faire demeanours Wyn more then blowes and soften stubborne angers.

Why, because wind is the cause of many things; now if the wind bee not in the right corner tis the ill wind our proverbe speakes of that blowes nobodie good; for when vapors and wind flie into the head it cannot be in two places at one time: and that's the reason your men of most wit doe seldome love a woman.

What winde blowes you hether, troe? Mom.

Harke you, Madam, the sweet gale of one Clarences breath, with this his paper sayle blowes me hether.

Yes, syr, and blowes me hence

A] blowes abroad bringst us our peace at home.

And therefore I will place this hammer here, And take it as I follow Beech up staires, That suddenlie, before he is aware, I may with blowes dash out his hatefull braines.

[When the boy goeth into the shoppe Merrie striketh six blowes on his head & with the seaventh leaves the hammer sticking in his head; the boy groaning must be heard by a maide who must crye to her Maister.

Cur, Thinking to make him leave to follow me; But words, nor blowes, could moove the dog away, But still he plung'd, he div'd, he barkt, he ran Still to my side, as if it were for helpe.

I, demandinge the reason itt was answerd me againe itt was to keepe away his infectious breath least it should fill theire meate with fly-blowes.

And I will after you home, Syr, Since so merrily blowes the wind, Sir. Thomas.

Now I must heere of raps and blowes, and Bils and Guns, and swords and bucklers.

And keepes as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the skirt; a rough Sceane of ciuill Warres and a clapping conclusion; perhappes a Jigge; if not, the Tragicomicall tale of Mars and Venus; then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending Mars, & she Venus, must fall from billing to byting, from byting to blowes, to get the supremacie.

I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his blowes trebled.

Sir,On page 206. of Mr. Collier's second volume of Extracts from the Registers of the Stationers' Company, the following entry occurs:"1585-6. Cold and uncoth blowes, of the lady Jane of Westmorland."

Not for your beauty; Though I confess, it blowes the first fire in us, Time as he passes by, puts out that sparkle; Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it, And make it all addition to a woman, Fortune that ruines all, makes that his conquest; Be honest, and be vertuous, I'le admire ye, At least be wise, and where ye lay these nets, Strow over 'em a little modesty, 'Twill well become your cause, and catch more Fools.

Nere talke to me, you are no men but Masquers, Shapes, shadowes, and the signes of men, Court bubbles, That every breath or breakes or blowes away, You have no soules, no metal in your bloods, No heat to stir ye when ye have occasion, Frozen dull things that must be turn'd with leavers; Are you the Courtiers and the travail'd Gallants?

Why should I seeke to cuckold my delights, And widow all those sweets I aime at in you? We'l loose our selves in Venus groves of mirtle Where every little bird shall be a Cupid, And sing of love and youth, each winde that blowes And curles the velvet leaves shall breed delights, The wanton springs shall call us to their bankes, And on the perfum'd flowers wee'l feast our senses, Yet wee'l walk by untainted of their pleasures,

Lastly, in the 'December' we have the counterpart of the January eclogue, a monologue in which Colin laments his wasted life and joyless, for Winter is come, that blowes the balefull breath,

Winter is come, that blowes the balefull breath, And after Winter commeth timely death.

This beats me more, King, than the blowes you gave me.