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Biron.

Enter the King, with a paper.

King. Ah me!

Biron. [Aside.] Shot by heaven - Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy birdbolt under the left pap:-I'faith secrets.

King. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun
gives not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks doron 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 shin'st in every tear that I do weep;
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 :
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
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.
Enter Longaville, with a paper.

What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
Biron. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool, ap-
pear!
[Aside.

Long. Ah me! I am forsworn.

Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing

papers.

[Aside.

King. In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in shame!

[Aside.

Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name.

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O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
These numbers will I tear and write in prose.
Biron. [Aside.] O, rhymes are guards on wanton
Disfigure not his slop.
[Cupid's hose:
Long.
This same shall go.-
[He reads the sonnet.

Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye

('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,) Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but, I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forsmore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ;
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vons are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is:

If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke. What fool is not so wise,
To lose an oath to win a paradise?

Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity:

A green goose, a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the way.

Enter Dumain, with a paper. Long. By whom shall I send this?-Company! stay. [Stepping aside. Biron. [Aside.] All hid, all hid, an old infant Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. [play: More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish; Dumain transform'd: four wood-cocks in a dish! Dum. O most divine Kate!

O most prophane coxcomb! [Aside. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth she is but corporal: there you lie.

[Aside.
Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted.
Biron. An amber colour'd raven was well noted.
[Aside.
Stoop, I say;
[Aside.
As fair as day.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.
Biron.

Her shoulder is with child.
Dum.

Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must

shine.
Dum. O that I had my wish!
Long.

[Aside. And I had mine.

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Dum. On a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow,
Air, would I might triumph so!
But alack, my hand is sworn,
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn.
Vom, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,

That I am forsworn for thee:

[Aside.

Thou for whom even Jove would swear,
Juno but an Ethiop were ;

And deny himself for Jove,

Turning mortal for thy love.

This will I send; and something else more plain,
That shall express my true love's fasting pain.
O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville,
Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note;
For none offend, where all alike do dote.

Long. Dumain, [advancing.] thy love is far from
That in love's grief desir'st society: [charity,
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o'erheard, and taken napping so.

King. Come, sir, [advancing.] you blush; as his
your case is such;

You do not love Maria; Longaville
You chide at him, offending twice as much :
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.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion;
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
Ah me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes :
You would for paradise break faith and troth;
[To Long.
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath."
[To Dumain.
What will Biron say, when that he shall hear
A faith infring'd, which such a zeal did swear?
How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that ever I did see,

I would not have him know so much by me.

Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.-
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me :
[Descends from the tree.
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
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.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?
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 I have seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gigg,
And profound Solomon to tune a jigg,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critick 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:-
A caudle, ho!

King.
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?

Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you:
I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in ;
I am betray'd, by keeping company
With moon-like men, of strange inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme ?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time,
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
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!

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Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. [Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [to Cos-, tard.] you were born to do me shame.Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess. King. What?

Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess;

He, he, and you, my liege, and I,

Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you inore.
Dum. Now the number is even.
Biron.

True, true; we are four :-
Will these turtles be gone?
King.

Hence, sirs; away. Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Cost. and Jaquenet. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us em

brace !

As true we are, as flesh and blood can be: The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face. Young blood will not obey an old decree: We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands must we be forsworn.

King. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine ?

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, Bows not his vassal he d; 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?

King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; [now? 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! 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,

Fye, painted rhetorick! O, she needs it not: To things of sale a seller's praise belongs;

[blot.

She passes praise: then praise too short doth A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: 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. Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine! 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. King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,

The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night; And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt, [of light. It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair, Should ravish doters with a false aspect;

And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days:

For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweepers black. [bright. Long. And, since her time, are colliers counted King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. [light.

Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, 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. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day here. [she.

King. No devil will fright thee then so much as Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see. [Showing his shoe.

Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine

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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.
O, 'tis more than need!-
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;-
Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young;
And abstinence engenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you hath forsworn his book:
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
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,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, universal plodding prisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries;

As motion, and long during action, tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
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,
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
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;
And in that vow we have fors worn our books;
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
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;
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;
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind;
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
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;
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
For valour, is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as sphinx; as sweet, and musical,
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
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;
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;
Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men ;
Or for men's sake, the authors of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men ;
Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion to be thus fors worn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;
And who can sever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field! [lords, Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd, 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.

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;
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Fore-run fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away! no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.
Biron. Allons! Allons!-Sow'd cockle reap'd no

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SCENE I-Another part of the same. Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull. Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned 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.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet.

[Takes out his table book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; 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; neighbour, vocatur, nebour; neigh, abbreviated, ne: This is abhominable, (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne intelligis domine to make frantick, lunatick.

Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo.

Hol. Bone?-bone, for bene: Priscian a little scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter Armado, Moth, and Costard.

Nath. Videsne quis venit?

Hol. Video, et gaudeo.

Arm. Chirra!

Hol. Quare Chirra, not sirrah?

[To Moth.

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd. Hol. Most military sir, salutation. Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. [To Costard aside.

Cost. O, they have lived long in 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.

Arm. Monsieur, [to Hol.] are you not letter'd? Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book ;What is a, b, spelt backward with a horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. Moth. Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn-You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat strangling a snake; and I will have an apology them; or the fifth, if I. for that purpose.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.—
Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it;

o, u.

Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit: snip, snap, quick and home! it rejoiceth my intellect: true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circum circa; A gig of a cuckold's horn!

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy ginger-bread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased, that thou wert but my bastard! what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to, thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.

Hol. Ó, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.
Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be singled
from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at
the 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.

Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, 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 word is well cull'd, chose; sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake! that is the way to make an offence gracious; 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! Arm. Shall I tell you a thing? Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antick. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir.

Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

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.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the same. Before
the Princess's Pavilion.

Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and
Maria.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in:
A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
Look you, what I have from the loving king.
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,
Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all;
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
Ros. That was the way to make his god-head wax;
For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd
your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
And so she died: had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might have 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?

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' the dark. Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. [for me.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend :For what is inward between us, let it pass :-I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ;-I beseech thee, apparel thy head;-and among other importunate 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 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, I do implore secrecy, that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antick, or fire-work. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet Kath. You weigh me not,-0, that's you care not self, are good at such eruptions, and sudden break- Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care. ing out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. you withal, to the end to crave your assistance. But Rosaline, you have a favour too : Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine Who sent it? and what is it? worthies.-Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some en- Ros. I would, you knew? tertainment of time, some show in the posterior of An if my face were but as fair as yours, this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the My favour were as great; be witness this. king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron : and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too, say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies. I were the fairest goddess on the ground: Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. to present them? O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter ! Prin. Any thing like?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the great; the page, Hercules.

Arm. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough

Ros. Much, in the letters; nothing in the praise
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book. [debtor,
Ros. 'Ware pencils! How ? let me not die your

My red dominical, my golden letter:
O, that your face was not so full of O's!
Kath. A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows!
Prin. But what was sent to you from fair Dumain?
Kath. Madam, this glove.

Prin.

Did he not send you twain? Kath. Yes, madam; and moreover, Some thousand verses of a faithful lover; A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity. Mar. This, and these pearls, to me sent LongaThe letter is too long by half a mile. [ville; 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.

Prin. We are wise girls, to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. 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;
And shape his service wholly to my behests;
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So portent-like would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.
Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd
thus,-

Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance :
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
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.-

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.
And change your favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd 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 : They do it but in mocking merriment;

Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are And mock for mock is only my intent.

catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such
excess,

As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

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.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.
Prepare, madam, prepare!-
Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are
they,

That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour:
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguis'd 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;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Presence majestical would put him out;
For, quoth the king, An angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.
The boy reply'd, 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,
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd, 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.

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.

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: But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's

heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, 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: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd, the maskers come. [The ladies mask. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in Russian habits, and masked; Moth, Musicians, and Attendants.

Moth. All hail the richest beauties on the earth! Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffata. Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

The ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn'd their-backs-to mortal viewvs! Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views! Out

Boyet. True; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits vouchNot to behold

[sufe

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,

with your sun-beamed eyes

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.

Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you

rogue.

Ros. What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet:

If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes:
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

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