For as the letters [Greeek:  ph d ph n r] must be read by their Greek names, so must also the B—­better written [Greek:  B]—­be read by its Greek name [Greek:  Baeta], or by Neo-Greek pronunciation vita.  With this meaning the line is given in the work of Etienne Tabourot ’Les Bizarrures du Seigneur des Accords,’ which is said to have appeared first in 1572 or 1582, in Chap. ii. on ‘rebus par lettres.’  I only know the passage by a quotation in an interesting work by Johannes Ochmann ‘Zur Kentniss der Rebus,’ Oppeln, 1861, p. 18.  I have also found our rebus in a German novel entitled ’The Wonderful Life of the Merry Hazard,’ Cosmopoli, 1706.  In this book, p. 282, it is related that a priest wrote as a souvenir in Hazard’s album:—­

    ’Nella [Greek:  phd]. [Greek:  phnr] la [Greek:  B]. 
    As an assurance of his heart
    That knows no joking
    It said’ ... ...

And further (p. 283):—­’Hazard knew not what to make of these mere Greek letters and spent several days in fruitless thoughts, until the priest let him understand that he was only to pronounce them, then he would hear from the sounds that it was Italian and meant:  Nella fidelta finiro la vita.’  This is the solution of the various hypotheses that have been set up about the meaning of ‘la B.’”

Vol.  IV.—­Everie Woman in her Humor.

P. 312 “Phy.  Boy!—­Sleepe wayward thoughts.”  The words “sleepe wayward thoughts” are from a song in Dowland’s First Book of Songs or Airs of four parts, 1597.  In Oliphant’s Musa Madrigalesca the song is given thus:—­

    “Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love;
      Let not my love be with my love displeased;
    Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move,
      But pine you with my longings long diseased. 
    Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake;
    So sleeps my love—­and yet my love doth wake.

    But, oh! the fury of my restless fear,
      The hidden anguish of my chaste desires;
    The glories and the beauties that appear
      Between her brows, near Cupid’s closed fires! 
    Sleep, dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake;
    So sleeps my love,—­and yet my love doth wake.”

P.335. “For I did but kisse her.”—­Mr. Ebsworth kindly informs me that these words are from a song (No. 19) in The First Booke of Songs and Ayres (1601?) composed by Robert Jones.  The song runs:—­

    “My Mistris sings no other song
    But stil complains I did her wrong. 
    Beleeue her not, it was not so,
    I did but kiss her and let her go.

    And now she sweares I did, but what,
    Nay, nay, I must not tell you that: 
    And yet I will, it is so sweete,
    As teehee tahha when louers meet.

    But womens words they are heedlesse,
    To tell you more it is needlesse: 
    I ranne and caught her by the arme
    And then I kist her, this was no harme.