DRAMATIS PERSONÆ1.Ferdinand, king of Navarre. Biron,lord attending on the King. Longaville,””” Dumain,””” Boyet,lord attending on the Princess of France. Mercade,””” Don Adriano de Armado, a fantastical Spaniard. Sir Nathaniel, a curate. Holofernes, a schoolmaster. Dull, a constable. Costard, a clown. Moth2, page to Armado. A Forester. The Princess of France. Rosaline,lady attending on the Princess. Maria,””” Katharine,””” Jaquenetta, a country wench. Lords, Attendants, &c. Scene—Navarre. FOOTNOTES: LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST3. ACT I.000 Scene I. The king of Navarre’s parkLLL I. 1 Enter Ferdinand, king of Navarre, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain.King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register’d upon our brazen tombs, 003 And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, 005 The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe’s keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors,—for so you are, That war against your own affections 010 And the huge army of the world’s desires,— Our late edict shall strongly stand in force: Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; 013 Our court shall be a little Academe, Still and contemplative in living art. 015 You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville, Have sworn for three years’ term to live with me My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes 018 That are recorded in this schedule here: Your oaths are pass’d; and now subscribe your names, 020 That his own hand may strike his honour down That violates the smallest branch herein: If you are arm’d to do as sworn to do, 023 Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. Long. I am resolved; ’tis but a three years’ fast: 025 The mind shall banquet, though the body pine: Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits 027 Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified: 029 The grosser manner of these world’s delights 030 He throws upon the gross world’s baser slaves: 031 To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die; With all these living in philosophy. Biron. I can but say their protestation over; So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, 035 That is, to live and study here three years. But there are other strict observances; As, not to see a woman in that term, Which I hope well is not enrolled there; And one day in a week to touch no food, 040 And but one meal on every day beside, The which I hope is not enrolled there; And then, to sleep but three hours in the night, And not be seen to wink of all the day,— When I was wont to think no harm all night, 045 And make a dark night too of half the day,— Which I hope well is not enrolled there: O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep! King. Your oath is pass’d to pass away from these. 050 Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: I only swore to study with your grace, And stay here in your court for three years’ space. Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. 055 What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barr’d, you mean, from common sense? King. Ay, that is study’s god-like recompense. Biron. Come on, then; I will swear to study so, 060 To know the thing I am forbid to know: As thus,—to study where I well may dine, 062 When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or study where to meet some mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid; 065 Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath, Study to break it, and not break my troth. 067 If study’s gain be thus, and this be so, Study knows that which yet it doth not know: Swear me to this, and I will ne’er say no. 070 King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight. 072 Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book 075 To seek the light of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: 077 Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. 080 Study me how to please the eye indeed, By fixing it upon a fairer eye; Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, 083 And give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun, 085 That will not be deep-search’d with saucy looks: Small have continual plodders ever won, 087 Save base authority from others’ books. These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights, That give a name to every fixed star, 090 Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. 092 Too much to know, is to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. King. How well he’s read, to reason against reading! 095 Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding. Dum. How follows that? Biron. Fit in his place and time. Dum. In reason nothing. Biron. Something, then, in rhyme. 100 King. Biron is like an envious sneaping frost, That bites the first-born infants of the spring. Biron. Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast, 103 Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in any abortive birth? 105 At Christmas I no more desire a rose 106 Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled shows; But like of each thing that in season grows. 108 So you, to study now it is too late, 109 Climb o’er the house to unlock the little gate. 110 King. Well, sit you out: go home, Biron: adieu. Biron. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: And though I have for barbarism spoke more Than for that angel knowledge you can say, 114 Yet confident I’ll keep what I have swore, 115 And bide the penance of each three years’ day. Give me the paper; let me read the same; 117 And to the strict’st decrees I’ll write my name. King. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! Biron [reads]. ‘Item, That no woman shall come within a 120 mile of my court,’—Hath this been proclaimed? Long. Four days ago. 123 Biron. Let’s see the penalty. [Reads] ‘on pain of losing her tongue.’ Who devised this penalty? Long. Marry, that did I. 125 Biron. Sweet lord, and why? Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. 127 Biron. A dangerous law against gentility! [Reads] ‘Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest 130 of the court can possibly devise.’ This article, my liege, yourself must break; For well you know here comes in embassy The French king’s daughter with yourself to speak,— A maid of grace and complete majesty,— 135 About surrender up of Aquitaine 136 To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father: Therefore this article is made in vain, 138 Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot. 140 Biron. So study evermore is overshot: While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should; And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, ’Tis won as towns with fire, so won, so lost. 145 King. We must of force dispense with this decree; 146 She must lie here on mere necessity. 147 Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years’ space; For every man with his affects is born, 150 Not by might master’d, but by special grace: 151 If I break faith, this word shall speak for me, I am forsworn on ‘mere necessity.’ 153 So to the laws at large I write my name: [Subscribes And he that breaks them in the least degree 155 Stands in attainder of eternal shame: 156 Suggestions are to other as to me; But I believe, although I seem so loth, 158 I am the last that will last keep his oath. But is there no quick recreation granted? 160 King. Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted 161 With a refined traveller of Spain; 162 A man in all the world’s new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain; 164 One whom the music of his own vain tongue 165 Doth ravish like enchanting harmony; A man of complements, whom right and wrong Have chose as umpire of their mutiny: This child of fancy, that Armado hight, For interim to our studies, shall relate. 170 In high-born words, the worth of many a knight From tawny Spain, lost in the world’s debate. How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; But, I protest, I love to hear him lie, And I will use him for my minstrelsy. 175 Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight. 176 A man of fire-new words, fashion’s own knight. Long. Costard the swain and he shall be our sport; 178 And, so to study, three years is but short. Enter Dull with a letter, and Costard.179 Dull. Which is the Duke’s own person? 180 Biron. This, fellow: what wouldst? Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his 182 Grace’s tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he. 185 Dull. Signior Arme—Arme—commends you. There’s villany abroad: this letter will tell you more. Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for 190 high words. 191 Long. A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience! 193 Biron. To hear? or forbear laughing? 194 Long. 195 To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both. Biron. Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause 197 to climb in the merriness. Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. 199 The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. 200 Biron. In what manner? Cost. In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is in manner and form following. Now, 205 sir, for the manner,—it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,—in some form. Biron. For the following, sir? Cost. As it shall follow in my correction: and God defend the right! 210 King. Will you hear this letter with attention? Biron. As we would hear an oracle. Cost. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh. King. [reads]. ‘Great deputy, the welkin’s vicegerent, and sole 215 dominator of Navarre, my soul’s earth’s god, and body’s fostering patron.’— Cost. Not a word of Costard yet. King. [reads]. ‘So it is,’— Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in telling 220 true, but so. King. Peace! Cost. Be to me, and every man that dares not fight! King. No words! Cost. Of other men’s secrets, I beseech you. King. [reads]. 225 ‘So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment 230 which is called supper: so much for the time when. Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon: it is ycleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, 235 surveyest, or seest: but to the place where,—it standeth north-north- east and by east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted garden: 237 there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,’— 239 Cost. Me? King. [reads]. 240 ‘that unlettered small-knowing soul,’— Cost. Me? King. [reads]. 242 ‘that shallow vassal,’— Cost. Still me? King. [reads]. ‘which, as I remember, hight Costard,’ 245 Cost. O, me! King. [reads]. ‘sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established 247 proclaimed edict and continent canon, which with,—O, with— but with this I passion to say wherewith,’— Cost. With a wench. King. [reads] 250 ‘with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; 251 or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I, as my everesteemed 252 duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed 253 of punishment, by thy sweet Grace’s officer, Anthony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.’ 255 Dull. Me, an’t shall please you; I am Anthony Dull. King. [reads]. ‘For Jaquenetta,—so is the weaker vessel called 257 which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,—I keep her as a vessel of thy law’s fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat 260 of duty. Don Adriano de Armado.’ Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. King. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this? 265 Cost. Sir, I confess the wench. King. Did you hear the proclamation? Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it. King. It was proclaimed a year’s imprisonment, to be 270 taken with a wench. 271 Cost. I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a 272 damsel. King. Well, it was proclaimed damsel. Cost. This was no damsel neither, sir; she was a virgin. 275 King. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed virgin. Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid. King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. This maid will serve my turn, sir. 280 King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water. Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. 285 My Lord Biron, see him deliver’d o’er: And go we, lords, to put in practice that 287 Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. [Exeunt King, Longaville, and Dumain. 288 Biron. I’ll lay my head to any good man’s hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. 290 Sirrah, come on. Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and, 293 therefore, welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction 294 may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, 295 sorrow! [Exeunt. 000 Scene II. The same.LLL I. 2 Enter Armado and Moth.Arm. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, 005 dear imp. Moth. No, no; O Lord, sir, no. Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, 010 my tough senior. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? 013 Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may 015 nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying 020 apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little. 022 Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? 023 Arm. And therefore apt, because quick. Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master? 025 Arm. In thy condign praise. Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. 027 Arm. What, that an eel is ingenious? Moth. That an eel is quick. Arm. I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest 030 my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. 033 Moth. [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him. 035 Arm. I have promised to study three years with the 036 Duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Arm. Impossible. Moth. How many is one thrice told? 040 Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man. 045 Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. 048 Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three. Arm. True. 050 Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now 051 here is three studied, ere ye’ll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! 055 Moth. To prove you a cipher. Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I 060 would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master. 065 Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his 070 back like a porter: and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson’s love, my dear Moth? 075 Moth. A woman, master. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion. 080 Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir. Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small 085 reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. 086 Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. 087 Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. 088 Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. 090 Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father’s wit, and my mother’s tongue, assist me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and 094 pathetical! Moth. 095 If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne’er be known; 097 For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by pale white shown: Then if she fear, or be to blame, 100 By this you shall not know; For still her cheeks possess the same Which native she doth owe. A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. 105 Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? 107 Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now ’tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing 110 nor the tune. Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park 114 with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. 115 Moth. [Aside] To be whipped; and yet a better 116 love than my master. 117 Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench. Arm. I say, sing. 120 Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta.Dull. Sir, the duke’s pleasure is, that you keep Costard 122 safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no 123 penance; but a’ must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she is allowed for 125 the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid. Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That’s hereby. 130 Arm. I know where it is situate. Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! Arm. I will tell thee wonders. 133 Jaq. With that face? Arm. I love thee. 135 Jaq. So I heard you say. Arm. And so, farewell. Jaq. Fair weather after you! 138 Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away! [Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. 139 Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou 140 be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for 145 they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away! 148 Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to 150 prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see. Moth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look 155 upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt Moth and Costard. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, 160 doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is 163 a devil: there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was 165 Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid’s butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules’ club; and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard’s rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, 169 the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; 170 but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! 171 be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I 173 shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for 174 whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II.000 Scene I. The same.LLL II. 1 Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other Attendants.001 Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits: 002 Consider who the king your father sends; To whom he sends; and what’s his embassy: Yourself, held precious in the world’s esteem, 005 To parley with the sole inheritor Of all perfections that a man may owe, Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen. Be now as prodigal of all dear grace. 010 As Nature was in making graces dear, When she did starve the general world beside, And prodigally gave them all to you. 013 Prin. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye, Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues: I am less proud to hear you tell my worth Than you much willing to be counted wise 019 In spending your wit in the praise of mine. 020 But now to task the tasker: good Boyet, 021 You are not ignorant, all-telling fame Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, Till painful study shall outwear three years, No woman may approach his silent court: 025 Therefore to’s seemeth it a needful course, Before we enter his forbidden gates, To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, Bold of your worthiness, we single you As our best-moving fair solicitor. 030 Tell him, the daughter of the King of France, On serious business, craving quick dispatch, 032 Importunes personal conference with his Grace: Haste, signify so much; while we attend, 034 Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will. 035 Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. 036 Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so. [Exit Boyet. 037 Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? 039 First Lord. Lord Longaville is one. Prin. Know you the man? 040 Mar. I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast, Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized 043 In Normandy, saw I this Longaville: 044 A man of sovereign parts he is esteem’d; 045 Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue’s gloss, 047 If virtue’s gloss will stain with any soil, Is a sharp wit match’d with too blunt a will; 050 Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills 051 It should none spare that come within his power. 052 Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is’t so? Mar. They say so most that most his humours know. Prin. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. 055 Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish’d youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue loved: 058 Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill; For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, 060 And shape to win grace, though he had no wit. 061 I saw him at the Duke AlenÇon’s once; And much too little of that good I saw Is my report to his great worthiness. 064 Ros. Another of these students at that time 065 Was there with him, if I have heard a truth. Biron they call him; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour’s talk withal: 069 His eye begets occasion for his wit; 070 For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue, conceit’s expositor, Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, 075 And younger hearings are quite ravished; 076 So sweet and voluble is his discourse. Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love, That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? 080 First Lord. Here comes Boyet. Re-enter Boyet.Prin. 080 Now, what admittance, lord? Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he and his competitors in oath Were all address’d to meet you, gentle lady, 084 Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt: 085 He rather means to lodge you in the field, Like one that comes here to besiege his court, Than seek a dispensation for his oath, 088 To let you enter his unpeeled house. 089 Here comes Navarre. Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and Attendants.090 King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. ‘Fair’ I give you back again; and ‘welcome’ I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; 093 and welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. 095 Prin. I will be welcome, then: conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he’ll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. 099 Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. 100 King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. I hear your grace hath sworn out house-keeping: ’Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, 105 And sin to break it. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold: To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me. Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, And suddenly resolve me in my suit. 110 King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you’ll prove perjured, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? 114 Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? 115 Biron. I know you did. 116 Ros. How needless was it, then, to ask the question! Biron. You must not be so quick. Ros. ’Tis ’long of you that spur me with such questions. Biron. Your wit’s too hot, it speeds too fast, ’twill tire. 120 Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o’ day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Biron. Now fair befall your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! 125 Biron. And send you many lovers! Ros. Amen, so you be none. Biron. Nay, then will I be gone. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate 129 The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; 130 Being but the one half of an entire sum Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say that he or we, as neither have, Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid 134 A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, 135 One part of Aquitaine is bound to us, Although not valued to the money’s worth. If, then, the king your father will restore 138 But that one-half which is unsatisfied, We will give up our right in Aquitaine, 140 And hold fair friendship with his Majesty. But that, it seems, he little purposeth, 142 For here he doth demand to have repaid 143 A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, 144 On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, 145 To have his title live in Aquitaine; Which we much rather had depart withal, 147 And have the money by our father lent, Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is. Dear princess, were not his requests so far 150 From reason’s yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, ’gainst some reason, in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again. Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name, 155 In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. King. I do protest I never heard of it; 158 And if you prove it, I’ll repay it back, Or yield up Aquitaine. Prin. We arrest your word. 160 Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum from special officers Of Charles his father. King. Satisfy me so. Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: 165 To-morrow you shall have a sight of them. King. It shall suffice me: at which interview 167 All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime receive such welcome at my hand As honour, without breach of honour, may 170 Make tender of to thy true worthiness: 171 You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so received As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart, 174 Though so denied fair harbour in my house. 175 Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: 176 To-morrow shall we visit you again. Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your Grace! 178 King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exit. 179 Biron. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart. 180 Ros. Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would you heard it groan. 183 Ros. Is the fool sick? Biron. Sick at the heart. 185 Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physic says ‘ay’. Biron. Will you prick’t with your eye? 189 Ros. No point, with my knife. 190 Biron. Now, God save thy life! Ros. And yours from long living! 192 Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same? 194 Boyet. The heir of AlenÇon, Katharine her name. 195 Dum. A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white? 197 Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name. Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame. 200 Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Her mother’s, I have heard. 202 Long. God’s blessing on your beard! Boyet. Good sir, be not offended. She is an heir of Falconbridge. 205 Long. Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most sweet lady. 207 Boyet. Not unlike, sir, that may be. [Exit Long. 208 Biron. What’s her name in the cap? 209 Boyet. Rosaline, by good hap. 210 Biron. Is she wedded or no? Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. 212 Biron. You are welcome, sir: adieu. 213 Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord: Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. 215 And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board. 218 Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry. Boyet. And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. 220 Mar. You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest? 221 Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her. Mar. Not so, gentle beast: My lips are no common, though several they be. Boyet. Belonging to whom? Mar. To my fortunes and me. 224 Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree: 225 This civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here ’tis abused. 227 Boyet. If my observation, which very seldom lies, By the heart’s still rhetoric disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. 230 Prin. With what? Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle affected. Prin. Your reason? 233 Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire 234 To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: 235 His heart, like an agate, with your print impress’d, Proud with his form, in his eye pride express’d: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be; All senses to that sense did make their repair, 240 To feel only looking on fairest of fair: Methought all his senses were lock’d in his eye, As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy; 243 Who, tendering their own worth from where they were glass’d, 244 Did point you to buy them, along as you pass’d: 245 His face’s own margent did quote such amazes, That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes. 247 I’ll give you Aquitaine, and all that is his, An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. 249 Prin. Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed. 250 Boyet. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclosed. I only have made a mouth of his eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully. Mar. He is Cupid’s grandfather, and learns news of him. 255 Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? Mar. No. Boyet. What then, do you see? Ros. Ay, our way to be gone. Boyet. You are too hard for me. [Exeunt. ACT III.000 Scene I. The same.LLL III. 1 Enter Armado and Moth.Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Moth. Concolinel. [Singing. Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years; take this 005 key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love. 007 Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl? Arm. How meanest thou? brawling in French? 010 Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at 011 the tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with 012 turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime 013 through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing 014 love, sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up 015 love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the 016 shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too 019 long in one tune, but a snip and away. These are complements, 020 these are humours; these betray nice wenches, that 021 would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note—do you note me?—that most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? 024 Moth. By my penny of observation. 025 Arm. But O,—but O,— Moth. ‘The hobby-horse is forgot.’ Arm. Callest thou my love ‘hobby-horse’? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your 030 love? Arm. Almost I had. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By heart and in heart, boy. Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will 035 prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? 037 Moth. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, 038 upon the instant: by heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her, because your 040 heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her. Arm. I am all these three. Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all. 045 Arm. Fetch hither the swain: he must carry me a letter. 046 Moth. A message well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador for an ass. Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou? Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the 050 horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go. Arm. The way is but short: away! Moth. As swift as lead, sir. 053 Arm. The meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? 055 Moth. MinimÈ, honest master; or rather, master, no. Arm. I say lead is slow. Moth. 057 You are too swift, sir, to say so: Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun? Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric! He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that’s he: I shoot thee at the swain. Moth. 060 Thump, then, and I flee. [Exit. 061 Arm. A most acute juvenal; volable and free of grace! By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face: 063 Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. My herald is return’d. Re-enter Moth with Costard.065 Moth. A wonder, master! here’s a Costard broken in a shin. 066 Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l’envoy; begin. 067 Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l’envoy; no salve in the 068 mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! no l’envoy, no 069 l’envoy; no salve, sir, but a plantain! 070 Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly 071 thought my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the 073 inconsiderate take salve for l’envoy, and the word l’envoy for a salve? 075 Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l’envoy a salve? 076 Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain 077 Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. 078 I will example it: The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, 080 Were still at odds, being but three. There’s the moral. Now the l’envoy. Moth. I will add the l’envoy. Say the moral again. Arm. The fox, the ape, the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. 085 Moth. Until the goose came out of door, 086 And stay’d the odds by adding four. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l’envoy. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, 090 Were still at odds, being but three. 091 Arm. Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four. Moth. A good l’envoy, ending in the goose: would you desire more? 095 Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that’s flat. Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat. To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose: Let me see; a fat l’envoy; ay, that’s a fat goose. Arm. Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin? 100 Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin. 101 Then call’d you for the l’envoy. Cost. True, and I for a plantain: thus came your argument in; Then the boy’s fat l’envoy, the goose that you bought; And he ended the market. 105 Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin? Moth. I will tell you sensibly. Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak that l’envoy: 110 I Costard, running out, that was safely within, Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin. Arm. We will talk no more of this matter. Cost. Till there be more matter in the shin. 114 Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee. 115 Cost. O, marry me to one Frances: I smell some l’envoy, some goose, in this. Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person: thou wert immured, restrained, 118 captivated, bound. 120 Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, 121 and let me loose. 122 Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this significant [giving a letter] to the country maid Jaquenetta: 125 there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine 126 honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit. Moth. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu. 128 Cost. My sweet ounce of man’s flesh! my incony Jew! [Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, 130 that’s the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings— 131 remuneration.—‘What’s the price of this inkle?’—‘One 132 penny.’—‘No, I’ll give you a remuneration:’ why, it carries 133 it. Remuneration! why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word. Enter Biron.135 Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met. Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration? 138 Biron. What is a remuneration? Cost. Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing. 140 Biron. Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk. Cost. I thank your worship: God be wi’ you! Biron. Stay, slave; I must employ thee: 143 As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave, Do one thing for me that I shall entreat. 145 Cost. When would you have it done, sir? Biron. This afternoon. Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well. Biron. Thou knowest not what it is. Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it. 150 Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first. Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning. Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this: 154 The princess comes to hunt here in the park, 155 And in her train there is a gentle lady; When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name, And Rosaline they call her: ask for her; And to her white hand see thou do commend 159 This seal’d-up counsel. There’s thy guerdon; go. [Giving him a shilling. 160 Cost. Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration, 161 a ’leven-pence farthing better: most sweet gardon! I 162 will do it, sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration! [Exit. 163 Biron. And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love’s whip; 165 A very beadle to a humorous sigh; A critic, nay, a night-watch constable; A domineering pedant o’er the boy; 168 Than whom no mortal so magnificent! 169 This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy; 170 This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces, 175 Sole imperator and great general Of trotting ’paritors:—O my little heart!— 177 And I to be a corporal of his field, And wear his colours like a tumbler’s hoop! 179 What! I love! I sue! I seek a wife! 180 A woman, that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, 182 And never going aright, being a watch, But being watch’d that it may still go right! Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all; 185 And, among three, to love the worst of all; 186 A wightly wanton with a velvet brow, With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes; Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed, Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard: 190 And I to sigh for her! to watch for her! To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague That Cupid will impose for my neglect Of his almighty dreadful little might. 194 Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan: 195 Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit. ACT IV.000 Scene I. The same.LLL IV. 1 Enter the Princess, and her train, a Forester, Boyet, Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine.Prin. Was that the king, that spurred his horse so hard 002 Against the steep uprising of the hill? 003 Boyet. I know not; but I think it was not he. Prin. Whoe’er a’ was, a’ showed a mounting mind. 005 Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch: 006 On Saturday we will return to France. Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush That we must stand and play the murderer in? 009 For. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice; 010 A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. 011 Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak’st the fairest shoot. 013 For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. 014 Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say no? 015 O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe! For. Yes, madam, fair. Prin. Nay, never paint me now: Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. Here, good my glass, take this for telling true: Fair payment for foul words is more than due. 020 For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. Prin. See, see, my beauty will be saved by merit! 022 O heresy in fair, fit for these days! 023 A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill, 025 And shooting well is then accounted ill. Thus will I save my credit in the shoot: 027 Not wounding, pity would not let me do’t; If wounding, then it was to show my skill, That more for praise than purpose meant to kill. 030 And, out of question, so it is sometimes, Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, 032 When, for fame’s sake, for praise, an outward part, We bend to that the working of the heart; As I for praise alone now seek to spill 035 The poor deer’s blood, that my heart means no ill. Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty Only for praise sake, when they strive to be Lords o’er their lords? Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford 040 To any lady that subdues a lord. Boyet. Here comes a member of the commonwealth. Enter Costard.042 Cost. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady? 045 Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads. Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest? Prin. The thickest and the tallest. Cost. The thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth. 049 An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, 050 One o’ these maids’ girdles for your waist should be fit. Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here. Prin. What’s your will, sir? what’s your will? Cost. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline. Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter! he’s a good friend of mine: 055 Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve; Break up this capon. Boyet. I am bound to serve. This letter is mistook, it importeth none here; It is writ to Jaquenetta. Prin. We will read it, I swear. Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. 060 Boyet [reads]. By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most 064 illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate 065 beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, 066 vici; which to annothanize in the vulgar,—O base and obscure 067 vulgar!—videlicet, He came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, 068 two; overcame, three. Who came? the king: why did he come? to see: why did he see? to overcome: to whom came he? to the beggar: 070 what saw he? the beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The conclusion 071 is victory: on whose side? the king’s. The captive is enriched: on whose side? the beggar’s. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose side? the king’s: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth 075 thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce thy love? I could: shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the 080 dearest design of industry,Don Adriano de Armado. Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar ’Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey. Submissive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play: 085 But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. 087 Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better? Boyet. I am much deceived but I remember the style. 090 Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o’er it erewhile. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; 092 A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport To the prince and his bookmates. Prin. Thou fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter? Cost. I told you; my lord. Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it? Cost. 095 From my lord to my lady. Prin. From which lord to which lady? Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France that he call’d Rosaline. 099 Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. 100 [To Ros.] Here, sweet, put up this: ’twill be thine another [Exeunt Princess and train. 101 Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor? Ros. Shall I teach you to know? Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. Ros. Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off! Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry, 105 Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on! Ros. Well, then, I am the shooter. Boyet. And who is your deer? 108 Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near. Finely put on, indeed! 110 Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow. Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now? Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? 115 Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, 119 Thou canst not hit it, my good man. Boyet. 120 An I cannot, cannot, cannot, 121 An I cannot, another can. [Exeunt Ros. and Kath. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it! 123 Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady! 125 Let the mark have a prick in’t, to mete at, if it may be. Mar. Wide o’ the bow-hand! i’ faith, your hand is out. Cost. Indeed, a’ must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the clout. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. 129 Cost. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. 130 Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. Cost. She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria. Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down! 135 O’ my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. 137 Armado o’ th’ one side,—O, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan! 139 To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a’ will swear! 140 And his page o’ t’ other side, that handful of wit! 141 Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit! 142 Sola, sola! [Shout-within. [Exit Costard, running. Scene II. The same.LLL IV. 2 Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.Nath. Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience. 003 Hol. The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in blood; ripe 004 as the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear 005 of caelo, the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth. Nath. Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: but, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. 010 Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. Dull. ’Twas not a haud credo; ’twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, 015 his inclination, after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or, rather, unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer. Dull. I said the deer was not a haud credo; ’twas a pricket. 020 Hol. Twice-sod simplicity, bis coctus! O thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: 024 his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only 025 sensible in the duller parts: 026 And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be, Which we of taste and feeling are, for those parts that do 027 fructify in us more than he. 028 For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool, 029 So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school: 030 But omne bene, say I; being of an old father’s mind, Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. 032 Dull. You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit What was a month old at Cain’s birth, that’s not five weeks old as yet? 034 Hol. Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull. 035 Dull. What is Dictynna? 036 Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. Hol. The moon was a month old when Adam was no more, 038 And raught not to five weeks when he came to five-score. The allusion holds in the exchange. 040 Dull. ’Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange. Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange. 044 Dull. And I say, the pollusion holds in the exchange; 045 for the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside that, ’twas a pricket that the princess killed. 047 Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph 048 on the death of the deer? And, to humour the ignorant, 049 call I the deer the princess killed a pricket. 050 Nath. Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge; so it 051 shall please you to abrogate scurrility. Hol. I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility. 054 The preyful princess pierced and prickd a pretty pleasing pricket; 055 Some say a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. 056 The dogs did yell: put L to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting. 058 If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores one sorel. Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L. 060 Nath. A rare talent! Dull. [Aside] If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. 063 Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, 065 ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of 066 pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But 068 the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. 070 Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you: and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth. 074 Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, they shall 075 want no instruction; if their daughters be capable, I will 076 put it to them: but vir sapit qui pauca loquitur; a soul feminine saluteth us. Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.078 Jaq. God give you good morrow, master Parson. 079 Hol. Master Parson, quasi pers-on. An if one 080 should be pierced, which is the one? 081 Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead. 083 Hol. Piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a 085 swine: ’tis pretty; it is well. 086 Jaq. Good master Parson, be so good as read me this letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it. 089 Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub 090 umbra Ruminat,—and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice; 092 Venetia, Venetia, Chi non ti vede non ti pretia. Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! who understandeth thee not, 095 loves thee not. Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather, as Horace says in his— What, my soul, verses? Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned. 099 Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; lege, domine. Nath. [reads] 100 If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? 101 Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow’d! 102 Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll faithful prove; 103 Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bow’d. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, 105 Where all those pleasures live that art would comprehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice; Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend; All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder; Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire: 110 Thy eye Jove’s lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire. 112 Celestial as thou art, O, pardon love this wrong, 113 That sings heaven’s praise with such an earthly tongue. Hol. You find not the apostrophas, and so miss the 115 accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden 117 cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous 119 flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is nothing: 120 so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But, damosella virgin, was this directed to you? Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the 123 strange queen’s lords. 125 Hol. I will overglance the superscript: ‘To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline.’ I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of 128 the party writing to the person written unto: ‘Your ladyship’s 129 in all desired employment, Biron.’ Sir Nathaniel, this 130 Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen’s, which accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. 133 Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king: it may concern much. Stay not thy 135 compliment; I forgive thy duty: adieu. Jaq. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life! 137 Cost. Have with thee, my girl. [Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith,— 140 Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father; I do fear colourable colours. But to return to the verses: did they please you, Sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dine to-day at the father’s of a certain pupil 145 of mine; where, if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I 147 have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake 148 your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor 150 invention: I beseech your society. Nath. And thank you too; for society, saith the text, is the happiness of life. Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. [To Dull] Sir, I do invite you too; you shall not say 155 me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. 000 Scene III. The same.LLL IV. 3 Enter Biron, with a paper.001 Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing 002 myself: they have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch,— 003 pitch that defiles: defile! a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so they say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool: well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is 005 as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: well 006 proved again o’ my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i’ faith, I will not. O, but her eye,—by this light, but for 009 her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, 010 I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to 012 be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o’ my sonnets already: the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet 015 clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one 017 with a paper: God give him grace to groan! [Stands aside. Enter the King, with a paper.King. Ay me! Biron. [Aside] Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid: 020 thou hast thumped him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets! King [reads]. So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, 024 As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote 025 The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep: 030 No drop but as a coach doth carry thee; So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they thy glory through my grief will show: 034 But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep 035 My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. 036 O queen of queens! how far dost thou excel, No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell. How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper:— Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? [Steps aside. 040 What, Longaville! and reading! Listen, ear. Biron. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear! Enter Longaville, with a paper.Long. Ay me, I am forsworn! 043 Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. 045 King. In love, I hope: sweet fellowship in shame! Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name. Long. Am I the first that have been perjured so? Biron. I could put thee in comfort. Not by two that I know: 049 Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society. 050 The shape of Love’s Tyburn that hangs up simplicity. Long. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move. O sweet Maria, empress of my love! These numbers will I tear, and write in prose. Biron. O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose: 055 Disfigure not his slop. Long. This same shall go. [Reads. Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, 057 ’Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows for thee broke deserve not 059 punishment. 060 A woman I forswore; but I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly 062 love; Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour 064 is: Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost 065 shine, Exhalest this vapour-vow; in thee it 066 is: If broken then, it is no fault of 067 mine: If by me broke, what fool is not so wise 069 To lose an oath to win a paradise? 070 Biron. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity, 071 A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. 072 God amend us, God amend! we are much out o’ the way. Long. By whom shall I send this?—Company! stay. [Steps aside. Biron. All hid, all hid, an old infant play. 075 Like a demigod here sit I in the sky, 076 And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’er-eye. 077 More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish! Enter Dumain with a paper.Dumain transform’d! four woodcocks in a dish! Dum. O most divine Kate! 080 Biron. O most profane coxcomb! 081 Dum. By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye! 082 Biron. By earth, she is not, corporal, there you lie. 083 Dum. Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted. Biron. An amber-colour’d raven was well noted. Dum. As upright as the cedar. Biron. 085 Stoop, I say; Her shoulder is with child. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine. Dum. O that I had my wish! Long. And I had mine! 089 King. And I mine too, good Lord! 090 Biron. Amen, so I had mine: is not that a good word? Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember’d be. Biron. A fever in your blood! why, then incision Would let her out in saucers: sweet misprision! 095 Dum. Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ. Biron. Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit. 097 Dum. [reads] On a day—alack the day!— 098 Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair 100 Playing in the wanton air: 101 Through the velvet leaves the wind, 102 All unseen, can passage find; 103 That the lover, sick to death, 104 Wish himself the heaven’s breath. 105 Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow; 106 Air, would I might triumph so! 107 But, alack, my hand is sworn 108 Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn; Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, 110 Youth so apt to pluck a sweet! 111 Do not call it sin in me, That I am forsworn for thee; 113 Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were; 115 And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for thy love. This will I send and something else more plain, 118 That shall express my true love’s fasting pain. O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville, 120 Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note; For none offend where all alike do dote. Long. [advancing]. Dumain, thy love is far from charity, That in love’s grief desirest society: 125 You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, 126 To be o’erheard and taken napping so. King [advancing]. 127 Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such; 128 You chide at him, offending twice as much; 129 You do not love Maria; Longaville 130 Did never sonnet for her sake compile, Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart His loving bosom, to keep down his heart. I have been closely shrouded in this bush And mark’d you both and for you both did blush: 135 I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion: 137 Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries; 138 One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other’s eyes: 139 You would for paradise break faith and troth; [To Long. 140 And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath. [To Dum. What will Biron say when that he shall hear 142 Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear? How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit! 144 How will he triumph, leap and laugh at it! 145 For all the wealth that ever I did see, I would not have him know so much by me. 147 Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. [Advancing. Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me! Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove 150 These worms for loving, that art most in love? 151 Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears There is no certain princess that appears; You’ll not be perjured, ’tis a hateful thing; Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting! 155 But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not, All three of you, to be thus much o’ershot? 157 You found his mote; the king your mote did see; But I a beam do find in each of three. O, what a scene of foolery have I seen, 160 Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow and of teen! O me, with what strict patience have I sat, 162 To see a king transformed to a gnat! To see great Hercules whipping a gig, 164 And profound Solomon to tune a jig, 165 And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, 166 And critic Timon laugh at idle toys! Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain? And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain? And where my liege’s? all about the breast: 170 A caudle, ho! King.Too bitter is thy jest. Are we betray’d thus to thy over-view? 172 Biron. Not you to me, but I betray’d by you: I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in; 175 I am betray’d, by keeping company 176 With men like you, men of inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? 178 Or groan for love? or spend a minute’s time 179 In pruning me? When shall you hear that I 180 Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, A leg, a limb?— King. Soft! whither away so fast? A true man or a thief that gallops so? Biron. I post from love: good lover, let me go. Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.Jaq. God bless the king! King. 185 What present hast thou there? Cost. Some certain treason. King. What makes treason here? Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. King. If it mar nothing neither, 188 The treason and you go in peace away together. Jaq. I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read: 190 Our parson misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said. 191 King. Biron, read it over. [Giving him the paper. Where hadst thou it? Jaq. Of Costard. King. Where hadst thou it? 195 Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. [Biron tears the letter. 196 King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy: your Grace needs not fear it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it. 199 Dum. It is Biron’s writing, and here is his name. [Gathering up the pieces. 200 Biron. [To Costard] Ah, you whoreson loggerhead! you were born to do me shame. 201 Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess. King. What? Biron. That you three fools lack’d me fool to make up the mess: 204 He, he, and you, and you, my liege, and I, 205 Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. Dum. Now the number is even. Biron. 207 True, true; we are four. Will these turtles be gone? King. Hence, sirs; away! 209 Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Costard and Jaquenetta. 210 Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace! As true we are as flesh and blood can be: 212 The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; Young blood doth not obey an old decree: 214 We cannot cross the cause why we were born; 215 Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn. King. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine? 217 Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline, That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, At the first opening of the gorgeous east, 220 Bows not his vassal head and strucken blind Kisses the base ground with obedient breast? What peremptory eagle-sighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty? 225 King. What zeal, what fury hath inspired thee now? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; She an attending star, scarce seen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron: O, but for my love, day would turn to night! 230 Of all complexions the cull’d sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,— 235 Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not: To things of sale a seller’s praise belongs, 237 She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot. A wither’d hermit, five-score winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: 240 Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born, And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy: O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine. King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony. 244 Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine! 245 A wife of such wood were felicity. O, who can give an oath? where is a book? That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack, If that she learn not of her eye to look: No face is fair that is not full so black. 250 King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell, 251 The hue of dungeons and the school of night; 252 And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. 254 O, if in black my lady’s brows be deck’d, 255 It mourns that painting and usurping hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect; And therefore is she born to make black fair. 258 Her favour turns the fashion of the days, For native blood is counted painting now; 260 And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. 262 Dum. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black. Long. And since her time are colliers counted bright. 264 King. And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack. 265 Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, 267 For fear their colours should be wash’d away. King. ’Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, I ’ll find a fairer face not wash’d to-day. 270 Biron.I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. King.No devil will fright thee then so much as she. Dum.I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. Long. Look, here’s thy love: my foot and her face see. Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, 275 Her feet were much too dainty for such tread! 276 Dum. O vile! then, as she goes, what upward lies The street should see as she walk’d overhead. King. But what of this? are we not all in love? 279 Biron. Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn. 280 King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil. Long. O, some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some salve for perjury. Biron. 285 ’Tis more than need. 286 Have at you, then, affection’s men at arms. Consider what you first did swear unto, To fast, to study, and to see no woman; 289 Flat treason ’gainst the kingly state of youth. 290 Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young; And abstinence engenders maladies. And where that you have vow’d to study, lords, 293 In that each of you have forsworn his book, Can you still dream and pore and thereon look? 295 For when would you, my Lord, or you, or you, Have found the ground of study’s excellence Without the beauty of a woman’s face? From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive; They are the ground, the books, the academes 300 From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. 301 Why, universal plodding prisons up The nimble spirits in the arteries, As motion and long-during action tires 304 The sinewy vigour of the traveller. 305 Now, for not looking on a woman’s face, You have in that forsworn the use of eyes And study too, the causer of your vow; For where is any author in the world 309 Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye? 310 Learning is but an adjunct to ourself And where we are our learning likewise is 312 Then when ourselves we see in ladies’ eyes. Do we not likewise see our learning there? O, we have made a vow to study, lords, 315 And in that vow we have forsworn our books For when would you, my liege, or you, or you, In leaden contemplation have found out 318 Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes 319 Of beauty’s tutors have enrich’d you with? 320 Other slow arts entirely keep the brain; And therefore, finding barren practisers, Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil: But love, first learned in a lady’s eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; 325 But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye; 330 A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind; A lover’s ear will hear the lowest sound, 332 When the suspicious head of theft is stopp’d: Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails; 335 Love’s tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste: 336 For valour, is not Love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? 338 Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical 339 As bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his hair; 340 And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods 341 Make heaven drowsy with the harmony. Never durst poet touch a pen to write 343 Until his ink were temper’d with Love’s sighs; O, then his lines would ravish savage ears, 345 And plant in tyrants mild humility. From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world: 350 Else none at all in ought proves excellent. Then fools you were these women to forswear; Or keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools. For wisdom’s sake, a word that all men love; 354 Or for love’s sake, a word that loves all men; 355 Or for men’s sake, the authors of these women; 356 Or women’s sake, by whom we men are men; 357 Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves, Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths. It is religion to be thus forsworn, 360 For charity itself fulfils the law, And who can sever love from charity? King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field! 363 Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, lords; Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advised, 365 In conflict that you get the sun of them. Long. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by: Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France? King. And win them too: therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents. 370 Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them thither; Then homeward every man attach the hand Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon We will with some strange pastime solace them, Such as the shortness of the time can shape; 375 For revels, dances, masks and merry hours 376 Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers. King. Away, away! no time shall be omitted 378 That will betime, and may by us be fitted. 379 Biron. Allons! allons! Sow’d cockle reap’d no corn; 380 And justice always whirls in equal measure: Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; If so, our copper buys no better treasure. [Exeunt. 000 ACT V.Scene I. The same.LLL V. 1 Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.001 Hol. Satis quod sufficit. 002 Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, 004 witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned 005 without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king’s, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado. 008 Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: his humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, 010 his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, 011 and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. 013 Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer 015 than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and point-devise companions; 017 such rackers of orthography, as to speak dout, fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt, —d, e, b, t, not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; 020 neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abbreviated ne. This is 021 abhominable,—which he would call abbominable: it insinuateth 022 me of insanie: ne intelligis, domine? to make frantic, lunatic. 024 Nath. Laus Deo, bene intelligo. 025 Hol. Bon, bon, fort bon, Priscian! a little scratched, ’twill serve. 026 Nath. Videsne quis venit? Hol. Video, et gaudeo. Enter Armado, Moth, and Costard.Arm. Chirrah! [To Moth. 030 Hol. Quare chirrah, not sirrah? Arm. Men of peace, well encountered. Hol. Most military sir, salutation. Moth. [Aside to Costard] They have been at a great 034 feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. 035 Cost. O, they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. Moth. Peace! the peal begins. 040 Arm. [To Hol.] Monsieur, are you not lettered? Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book. What is a, b, spelt backward, with the horn on his head? Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. 045 Moth. Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning. Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant? 047 Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I. Hol. I will repeat them,—a, e, i,— 050 Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it,—o, u. 051 Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch, a quick venue of wit,—snip, snap, quick and home! it rejoiceth my intellect: true wit! Moth. Offered by a child to an old man; which is wit-old. 055 Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure? Moth. Horns. 057 Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig. Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip 059 about your infamy circum circa,—a gig of a cuckold’s horn. 060 Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased that thou wert but my bastard, what a 065 joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to; thou hast it 066 ad dunghill, at the fingers’ ends, as they say. Hol. O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem. 068 Arm. Arts-man, preambulate, we will be singuled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the 070 charge-house on the top of the mountain? Hol. Or mons, the hill. Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain. Hol. I do, sans question. 074 Arm. Sir, it is the king’s most sweet pleasure and affection 075 to congratulate the princess at her pavilion in the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. Hol. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent and measurable for the afternoon: the 080 word is well culled, chose, sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure. Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, 083 I do assure ye, very good friend: for what is inward 084 between us, let it pass. I do beseech thee, remember thy 085 courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy head: and among 086 other important and most serious designs, and of great import indeed, too, but let that pass: for I must tell thee, it will please his Grace, by the world, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal finger, thus, dally with 090 my excrement, with my mustachio; but, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable: some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass. The very all of all is,—but, sweet heart, 095 I do implore secrecy,—that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antique, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at 099 such eruptions and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it 100 were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance. Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. 103 Sir, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show 104 in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistants, 105 at the king’s command, and this most gallant, illustrate, 106 and learned gentleman, before the princess; I say none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies. Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them? 110 Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself and this gallant gentleman, Judas MaccabÆus; this swain, because of his great limb 112 or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules,— Arm. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that Worthy’s thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club. 115 Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose. Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, “Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest 120 the snake!” that is the way to make an offence gracious, 121 though few have the grace to do it. Arm. For the rest of the Worthies?— Hol. I will play three myself. Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman! 125 Arm. Shall I tell you a thing? Hol. We attend. 127 Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antique. I beseech you, follow. Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word 130 all this while. Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir. 132 Hol. Allons! we will employ thee. 133 Dull. I’ll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play On the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay. 135 Hol. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away! [Exeunt. 000 Scene II. The same.LLL V. 2 Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and Maria.Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in: 003 A lady wall’d about with diamonds! Look you what I have from the loving king. 005 Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme As would be cramm’d up in a sheet of paper, 008 Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent and all, That he was fain to seal on Cupid’s name. 010 Ros. That was the way to make his godhead wax, 011 For he hath been five thousand years a boy. 012 Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. 013 Ros. You’ll ne’er be friends with him; a’ kill’d your sister. Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; 015 And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, 017 She might ha’ been a grandam ere she died: And so may you; for a light heart lives long. Ros. What’s your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? 020 Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark. Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Kath. You’ll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore I’ll darkly end the argument. Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i’ th’ dark. 025 Kath. So do not you, for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not?—O, that’s you care not for me. 028 Ros. Great reason; for ‘past cure is still past care.’ Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play’d. 030 But, Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it? Ros. I would you knew: An if my face were but as fair as yours, My favour were as great; be witness this. Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron: 035 The numbers true; and, were the numbering too, I were the fairest goddess on the ground: I am compared to twenty thousand fairs. O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter! Prin. Any thing like? 040 Ros. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise. 041 Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion. 042 Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book. 043 Ros. ’Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter: 045 O that your face were not so full of O’s! 046 Kath. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows. 047 Prin. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain? Kath. Madam, this glove. Prin. Did he not send you twain? 049 Kath. Yes, madam, and, moreover, 050 Some thousand verses of a faithful lover, 051 A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compiled, profound simplicity. 053 Mar. This and these pearls to me sent Longaville: The letter is too long by half a mile. 055 Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart The chain were longer and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part. 058 Prin. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. 060 That same Biron I’ll torture ere I go: O that I knew he were but in by the week! How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek, And wait the season, and observe the times, And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes, 065 And shape his service wholly to my hests, 066 And make him proud to make me proud that jests! 067 So perttaunt-like would I o’ersway his state, That he should be my fool, and I his fate. Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are catch’d, 070 As wit turn’d fool: folly, in wisdom hatch’d, Hath wisdom’s warrant and the help of school, 072 And wit’s own grace to grace a learned fool. Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such excess 074 As gravity’s revolt to wantonness. 075 Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote; Since all the power thereof it doth apply To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity. 079 Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Enter Boyet.080 Boyet. O, I am stabb’d with laughter! Where’s her Grace? Prin. Thy news, Boyet? Boyet. Prepare, madam, prepare! 082 Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised, Armed in arguments; you’ll be surprised: 085 Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. Prin. Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they 088 That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say. 089 Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore 090 I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour; When, lo! to interrupt my purposed rest, Toward that shade I might behold addrest 093 The king and his companions: warily I stole into a neighbour thicket by, 095 And overheard what you shall overhear; 096 That, by and by, disguised they will be here. Their herald is a pretty knavish page, That well by heart hath conn’d his embassage: Action and accent did they teach him there; 100 ‘Thus must thou speak,’ and ‘thus thy body bear:’ And ever and anon they made a doubt Presence majestical would put him out; 103 ‘For,’ quoth the king, ‘an angel shalt thou see; Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.’ 105 The boy replied, ‘An angel is not evil; I should have fear’d her, had she been a devil.’ With that, all laugh’d, and clapp’d him on the shoulder, Making the bold wag by their praises bolder: One rubb’d his elbow thus, and fleer’d and swore 110 A better speech was never spoke before; Another, with his finger and his thumb, Cried, ‘Via! we will do’t, come what will come;’ The third he caper’d, and cried, ‘All goes well;’ The fourth turn’d on the toe, and down he fell. 115 With that, they all did tumble on the ground, With such a zealous laughter, so profound, That in this spleen ridiculous appears, 118 To check their folly, passion’s solemn tears. Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us? 120 Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparell’d thus, 121 Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess. 122 Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance; 123 And every one his love-feat will advance Unto his several mistress, which they’ll know 125 By favours several which they did bestow. Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task’d; For, ladies, we will every one be mask’d; And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despite of suit, to see a lady’s face. 130 Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, And then the king will court thee for his dear; Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine, So shall Biron take me for Rosaline. 134 And change you favours too; so shall your loves 135 Woo contrary, deceived by these removes. Ros. Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight. Kath. But in this changing what is your intent? Prin. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs: 139 They do it but in mocking merriment; 140 And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook, and so be mock’d withal Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages display’d, to talk and greet. 145 Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to’t? Prin. No, to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn’d speech render we no grace; 148 But while ’tis spoke each turn away her face. 149 Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker’s heart, 150 And quite divorce his memory from his part. Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt 152 The rest will ne’er come in, if he be out. There’s no such sport as sport by sport o’erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: 155 So shall we stay, mocking intended game, 156 And they, well mock’d, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. 157 Boyet. The trumpet sounds: be mask’d; the maskers come. [The Ladies mask. Enter Blackamoors with music; Moth; the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in Russian habits, and masked.Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!— 159 Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta. 160 Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames [The Ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn’d their—backs—to mortal views! Biron. [Aside to Moth] Their eyes, villain, their eyes. 163 Moth. That ever turn’d their eyes to mortal views!— Out— 164 Boyet. True; out indeed. 165 Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold— Biron. [Aside to Moth] Once to behold, rogue. Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes, —with your sun-beamed eyes— 170 Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it ‘daughter-beamed eyes.’ Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. 173 Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue! [Exit Moth. 174 Ros. What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet: 175 If they do speak our language, ’tis our will That some plain man recount their purposes: 177 Know what they would. 178 Boyet. What would you with the princess? Biron. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. 180 Ros. What would they, say they? 181 Boyet. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be gone. King. Say to her, we have measured many miles 185 To tread a measure with her on this grass. Boyet. They say, that they have measured many a mile 187 To tread a measure with you on this grass. Ros. It is not so. Ask them how many inches Is in one mile: if they have measured many, 190 The measure then of one is easily told. Boyet. If to come hither you have measured miles, And many miles, the princess bids you tell 193 How many inches doth fill up one mile. Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. Boyet. She hears herself. Ros. 195 How many weary steps, Of many weary miles you have o’ergone, Are number’d in the travel of one mile? Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you: Our duty is so rich, so infinite, 200 That we may do it still without accompt. Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face, That we, like savages, may worship it. Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! 205 Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine, Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne. Ros. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; 208 Thou now request’st but moonshine in the water. 209 King. Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change. 210 Thou bid’st me beg: this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon. [Music plays. 212 Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? Ros. You took the moon at full, but now she’s changed. 215 King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. 216 The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Ros. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance, We’ll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance. 220 King. Why take we hands, then? Ros. Only to part friends: Curtsey, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. 224 King. Prize you yourselves: what buys your company? Ros. Your absence only. King. 225 That can never be. Ros. Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you. King. If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat. Ros. In private, then. King. 229 I am best pleased with that. [They converse apart. 230 Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. 232 Biron. Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice, Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice! There’s half-a-dozen sweets. Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu: 235 Since you can cog, I’ll play no more with you. Biron. One word in secret. Prin. Let it not be sweet. Biron. Thou grievest my gall. Prin. 237 Gall! bitter. Biron. Therefore meet. [They converse apart. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? Mar. Name it. Dum. Fair lady,— Mar. Say you so? Fair lord,— 240 Take that for your fair lady. Dum. Please it you, As much in private, and I’ll bid adieu. [They converse apart. 242 Kath. What, was your vizard made without a tongue? Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. Kath. O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long. 245 Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless vizard half. 247 Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not ‘veal’ a calf? Long. A calf, fair lady! Kath. No, a fair lord calf. Long. Let’s part the word. Kath. No, I’ll not be your half: 250 Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. 251 Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks! Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Long. One word in private with you, ere I die. 255 Kath. Bleat softly, then; the butcher hears you cry. [They converse apart. Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen 257 As is the razor’s edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen; 259 Above the sense of sense; so sensible 260 Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings 261 Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. 263 Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! 264 King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. 265 Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. [Exeunt King, Lords, and Blackamoors. Are these the breed of wits so wonder’d at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff’d out. Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. 269 Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! 270 Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night? Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. 273 Ros. O, they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. 275 Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o’er his heart; And trow you what he call’d me? Prin. Qualm, perhaps. Kath. Yes, in good faith. Prin. 280 Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me. Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. 285 Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be 289 They will digest this harsh indignity. Prin. Will they return? Boyet. 290 They will, they will, God knows, And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore change favours; and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer air. Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. 295 Boyet. Fair ladies mask’d are roses in their bud; 296 Dismask’d, their damask sweet commixture shown, 297 Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo? 300 Ros. Good madam, if by me you’ll be advised, Let’s mock them still, as well known as disguised: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder what they were and to what end 305 Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn’d, And their rough carriage so ridiculous, 307 Should be presented at our tent to us. Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand. 309 Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run o’er land. [Exeunt Princess, Rosaline, Katharine, and Maria. Re-enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in their proper habits.310 King. Fair sir, God save you! Where’s the princess? Boyet. Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty 312 Command me any service to her thither? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. [Exit. 315 Biron. This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease, 316 And utters it again when God doth please: He is wit’s pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, 320 Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve; 323 A’ can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he 324 That kiss’d his hand away in courtesy; 325 This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms: nay, he can sing 328 A mean most meanly; and in ushering, Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet; 330 The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet: 331 This is the flower that smiles on every one, 332 To show his teeth as white as whale’s bone; 333 And consciences, that will not die in debt, 334 Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet. 335 King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado’s page out of his part! 337 Biron. See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou 338 Till this madman show’d thee? and what art thou now? Re-enter the Princess, ushered by Boyet; Rosaline, Maria, and Katharin..King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! 340 Prin. ‘Fair’ in ‘all hail’ is foul, as I conceive. 341 King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better; I will give you leave. 343 King. We came to visit you, and purpose now To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. 345 Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow: 346 Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke: 348 The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke; 350 For virtue’s office never breaks men’s troth. Now by my maiden honour yet as pure 352 As the unsullied lily I protest, A world of torments though I should endure, I would not yield to be your house’s guest; 355 So much I hate a breaking cause to be 356 Of heavenly oaths, vow’d with integrity. King. O, you have lived in desolation here, Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear; 360 We have had pastimes here and pleasant game: A mess of Russians left us but of late. King. How, madam! Russians! Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord: 365 My lady, to the manner of the days, In courtesy gives undeserving praise. We four indeed confronted were with four 368 In Russian habit: here they stay’d an hour, And talk’d apace; and in that hour, my lord, 370 They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. 373 Biron. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet, 374 Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet, 375 With eyes best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye, By light we lose light: your capacity Is of that nature that to your huge store Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor. 379 Ros. This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,— 380 Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty. Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess! Ros. All the fool mine? Biron. I cannot give you less. 385 Ros. Which of the vizards was it that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this? Ros. There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case That hid the worse, and show’d the better face. King. We are descried; they’ll mock us now downright. 390 Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad? 392 Ros. Help, hold his brows! he’ll swound! Why look you pale? Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. 395 Can any face of brass hold longer out? 396 Here stand I: lady, dart thy skill at me; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; 400 And I will wish thee never more to dance, Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O, never will I trust to speeches penn’d, Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue; 404 Nor never come in vizard to my friend; 405 Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper’s song! Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, 407 Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: 410 I do forswear them; and I here protest, By this white glove,—how white the hand, God knows!— Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express’d In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes: And, to begin, wench,—so God help me, la!— 415 My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw. Ros. Sans sans, I pray you. Biron. Yet I have a trick Of the old rage:—bear with me, I am sick; I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see: Write, ‘Lord have mercy on us’ on those three; 420 They are infected; in their hearts it lies; 421 They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes; These lords are visited; you are not free, For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see. Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens to us. 425 Biron. Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us. Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? Biron. Peace! for I will not have to do with you. Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend. 430 Biron. Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end. King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression Some fair excuse. Prin. The fairest is confession. 433 Were not you here but even now disguised? King. Madam, I was. Prin. And were you well advised? King. I was, fair madam. Prin. 435 When you then were here, What did you whisper in your lady’s ear? King. That more than all the world I did respect her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. 439 King. Upon mine honour, no. Prin. Peace, peace! forbear: 440 Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear? Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear 445 As precious eyesight, and did value me 446 Above this world; adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die my lover. Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word. 450 King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth, I never swore this lady such an oath. Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, sir, again. 454 King. My faith and this the princess I did give: 455 I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear. What, will you have me, or your pearl again? Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain. 460 I see the trick on’t: here was a consent, Knowing aforehand of our merriment, To dash it like a Christmas comedy: 463 Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany, Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick, 465 That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick To make my lady laugh when she’s disposed, Told our intents before; which once disclosed, The ladies did change favours; and then we, Following the signs, woo’d but the sign of she. 470 Now, to our perjury to add more terror, We are again forsworn, in will and error. 472 Much upon this it is: and might not you [To Boyet. Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue? 474 Do not you know my lady’s foot by the squier, 475 And laugh upon the apple of her eye? And stand between her back, sir, and the fire, Holding a trencher, jesting merrily? 478 You put our page out: go, you are allow’d; Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud. 480 You leer upon me, do you? there’s an eye 481 Wounds like a leaden sword. Boyet. Full merrily 482 Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done. Enter Costard.484 Welcome, pure wit! thou part’st a fair fray. 485 Cost. O Lord, sir, they would know Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no. Biron. What, are there but three? Cost. 487 No, sir; but it is vara fine, 488 For every one pursents three. Biron. And three times thrice is nine. Cost. Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope it is not so. 490 You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know: 491 I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,— Biron. Is not nine. Cost. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount. 495 Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Cost. O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir. Biron. How much is it? Cost. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, 500 will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine own part, I 501 am, as they say, but to parfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir. Biron. Art thou one of the Worthies? 504 Cost. It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion 505 the Great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare. Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care. [Exit. King. Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach. 510 Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and ’tis some policy 511 To have one show worse than the king’s and his company. King. I say they shall not come. Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o’errule you now: 514 That sport best pleases that doth least know how: 515 Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Dies in the zeal of that which it presents: Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, 517 When great things labouring perish in their birth. Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord. Enter Armado.520 Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal 521 sweet breath as will utter a brace of words. [Converses apart with the King, and delivers him a paper. Prin. Doth this man serve God? Biron. Why ask you? 524 Prin. He speaks not like a man of God’s making. 525 Arm. That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too too vain, too too vain: but we will put it, as they say, 528 to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, 529 most royal couplement! [Exit. 530 King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado’s page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas MaccabÆus: 534 And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive, 535 These four will change habits, and present the other five. Biron. There is five in the first show. King. You are deceived; ’tis not so. Biron. ‘The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool and the boy:— 540 Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again 541 Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein. 542 King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. Enter Costard, for Pompey.543 Cost. I Pompey am,— Boyet. You lie, you are not he. Cost. I Pompey am,— Boyet. With libbard’s head on knee. 545 Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee. Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big,— Dum. The Great. Cost. It is, ‘Great,’ sir:— Pompey surnamed the Great; That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: 550 And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance, And lay my arms before the legs of 551 this sweet lass of France. If your ladyship would say, ‘Thanks, Pompey,’ I had done. 553 Prin. Great thanks, Great Pompey. Cost. ’Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect: 555 I made a little fault in ‘Great.’ Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy. Enter Sir Nathaniel, for Alexander.Nath. When in the world I lived, I was the world’s commander; By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might: 560 My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander,— Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right. 562 Biron. Your nose smells ‘no’ in this, most tender-smelling knight. 563 Prin. The conqueror is dismay’d. Proceed, good Alexander. Nath. When in the world I lived, I was the world’s commander,— 565 Boyet. Most true, ’tis right; you were so, Alisander. Biron. Pompey the Great,— Cost. Your servant, and Costard. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander. Cost. [To Sir Nath.] O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander 570 the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax: he will be the ninth 573 Worthy. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [Nath. retires.] 574 There, an’t shall please 575 you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and 576 soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander,—alas, you see 578 how ’tis,—a little o’erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming 579 will speak their mind in some other sort. 580 Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. Enter Holofernes, for Judas; and Moth, for Hercules.Hol. 581 Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill’d Cerberus, that 582 three-headed canis; And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus. Quoniam he seemeth in minority, 585 Ergo I come with this apology. 587 Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. [Moth retires. Judas I am,- Dum. A Judas! Hol. Not Iscariot, sir. 590 Judas I am, ycliped MaccabÆus. Dum. Judas MaccabÆus dipt is plain Judas. 593 Biron. A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas? Hol. Judas I am,— 595 Dum. The more shame for you, Judas. Hol. What mean you, sir? Boyet. To make Judas hang himself. Hol. Begin, sir; you are my elder. Biron. Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder. 600 Hol. I will not be put out of countenance. Biron. Because thou hast no face. Hol. What is this? Boyet. A cittern-head. Dum. The head of a bodkin. 605 Biron. A Death’s face in a ring. Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen. 607 Boyet. The pommel of CÆsar’s falchion. Dum. The carved-bone face on a flask. Biron. Saint George’s half-cheek in a brooch. 610 Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead. Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance. Hol. You have put me out of countenance. Biron. False: we have given thee faces. 615 Hol. But you have out-faced them all. Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so. 617 Boyet. Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go. And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay? Dum. For the latter end of his name. 620 Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him:—Jud-as, away! Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Boyet. A light for Monsieur Judas! it grows dark, he may stumble. [Hol. retires. 623 Prin. Alas, poor MaccabÆus, how hath he been baited! Enter Armado, for Hector.625 Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms. 626 Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry. 628 King. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this. Boyet. But is this Hector? 630 King. I think Hector was not so clean-timbered. 631 Long. His leg is too big for Hector’s. Dum. More calf, certain. 633 Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small. Biron. This cannot be Hector. 635 Dum. He’s a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift,— 638 Dum. A gilt nutmeg. Biron. A lemon. 640 Long. Stuck with cloves. Dum. No, cloven. 642 Arm. Peace!— The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion; 645 A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea From morn till night, out of his pavilion. I am that flower,— Dum. 647 That mint. Long. That columbine. 650 Arm. Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector. Dum. Ay, and Hector’s a greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet 653 chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my device. [To the Princess] 655 Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing. Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted. Arm. I do adore thy sweet Grace’s slipper. Boyet. [Aside to Dum.] Loves her by the foot. Dum. [Aside to Boyet] He may not by the yard. 660 Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,— 661 Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way. Arm. What meanest thou? Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the 665 poor wench is cast away: she’s quick; the child brags in her belly already: ’tis yours. Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die. Cost. Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that 670 is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him. Dum. Most rare Pompey! Boyet. Renowned Pompey! Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the Huge! 675 Dum. Hector trembles. Biron. Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir 677 them on! stir them on! Dum. Hector will challenge him. Biron. Ay, if a’ have no more man’s blood in’s belly 680 than will sup a flea. Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: 683 I’ll slash; I’ll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again. 685 Dum. Room for the incensed Worthies! Cost. I’ll do it in my shirt. 687 Dum. Most resolute Pompey! 688 Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What 690 mean you? You will lose your reputation. Arm. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt. Dum. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge. 695 Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will. Biron. What reason have you for’t? Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance. 699 Boyet. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want 700 of linen: since when, I’ll be sworn, he wore none but a dish-clout 701 of Jaquenetta’s, and that a’ wears next his heart for a 702 favour. Enter Marcade.Mar. God save you, madam! 704 Prin. Welcome, Marcade; 705 But that thou interrupt’st our merriment. 706 Mar. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father— Prin. Dead, for my life! Mar. Even so; my tale is told. 710 Biron. Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud. Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have 712 seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies. King. How fares your majesty? 715 Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords, 718 For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe 720 In your rich wisdom to excuse, or hide, The liberal opposition of our spirits, If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath: your gentleness Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord! 725 A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue: 726 Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain’d. 728 King. The extreme parts of time extremely forms All causes to the purpose of his speed; 730 And often, at his very loose, decides 731 That which long process could not arbitrate: And though the mourning brow of progeny Forbid the smiling courtesy of love 734 The holy suit which fain it would convince; 735 Yet, since love’s argument was first on foot, Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost 738 Is not by much so wholesome-profitable As to rejoice at friends but newly found. 740 Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are double. 741 Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief; And by these badges understand the king. For your fair sakes have we neglected time, Play’d foul play with our oaths: your beauty, ladies, 745 Hath much deform’d us, fashioning our humours Even to the opposed end of our intents: And what in us hath seem’d ridiculous,— 748 As love is full of unbefitting strains; All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain; 750 Form’d by the eye, and therefore, like the eye, 751 Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance: Which parti-coated presence of loose love 755 Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes, 756 Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities, Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults, Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies, Our love being yours, the error that love makes 760 Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false, By being once false for ever to be true 762 To those that make us both,—fair ladies, you: 763 And even that falsehood, in itself a sin, Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace. 765 Prin. We have received your letters full of love: 766 Your favours, the ambassadors of love; And, in our maiden council, rated them At courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy, As bombast and as lining to the time: 770 But more devout than this in our respects 771 Have we not been; and therefore met your loves In their own fashion, like a merriment. Dum. Our letters, madam, show’d much more than jest. Long. So did our looks. Ros. We did not quote them so. 775 King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. Prin. A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in. No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much, Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this:— 780 If for my love, as there is no such cause, You will do aught, this shall you do for me: Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Remote from all the pleasures of the world; 785 There stay until the twelve celestial signs 786 Have brought about the annual reckoning. If this austere insociable life Change not your offer made in heat of blood; If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds 790 Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love, But that it bear this trial, and last love; Then, at the expiration of the year, 793 Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts, And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine, 795 I will be thine; and till that instant shut My woeful self up in a mourning house, Raining the tears of lamentation For the remembrance of my father’s death. If this thou do deny, let our hands part, 800 Neither intitled in the other’s heart. King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, 802 To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye! 804 Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. 805 Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me? 806 Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack’d, 807 You are attaint with faults and perjury: Therefore if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, 810 But seek the weary beds of people sick. Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? 812 A wife? Kath. A beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three. Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? 815 Kath. Not so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day I’ll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say: Come when the king doth to my lady come; Then, if I have much love, I’ll give you some. Dum. I’ll serve thee true and faithfully till then. 820 Kath. Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again. Long. What says Maria? Mar. At the twelvemonth’s end I’ll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Long. I’ll stay with patience; but the time is long. Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. 825 Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me; Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there: 828 Impose some service on me for thy love. 829 Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron, 830 Before I saw you; and the world’s large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks, Full of comparisons and wounding flouts, 833 Which you on all estates will execute That lie within the mercy of your wit. 835 To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, And therewithal to win me, if you please, Without the which I am not to be won, You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse 840 With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavour of your wit To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be; it is impossible: 845 Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. Ros. Why, that’s the way to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear 850 Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, 852 Deaf’d with the clamours of their own dear groans, 853 Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, And I will have you and that fault withal; 855 But if they will not, throw away that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation. Biron. A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall, I’ll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. [To the King] Ay, sweet my Lord; and so I take 860 my leave. King. No, madam; we will bring you on your way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies’ courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. 865 King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then ’twill end. Biron. That’s too long for a play. Re-enter Armado.Arm. Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me,— 868 Prin. Was not that Hector? Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. 870 Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the 872 plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? it 875 should have followed in the end of our show. King. Call them forth quickly; we will do so. 877 Arm. Holla! approach. Re-enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Moth, Costard, and others.This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, 880 begin. The Song.Spring. When daisies pied and violets blue 882 And lady-smocks all silver-white 883 And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue 884 Do paint the meadows with delight, 885 The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! 890 When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, 895 Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! Winter. When icicles hang by the wall, 900 And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, 903 When blood is nipp’d and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, 905 Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson’s saw, 910 And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian’s nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; 915 Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 917 Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs 918 of Apollo. You that way,—we this way. [Exeunt. |