this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye, and lye in my throate. By heaven I doe love, and it hath taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper, God give him grace to grone.

20

He stands aside. The King entreth [with a paper]. Kin. Ay mee!

Ber. [Aside] Shot by heaven: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast | thumpt him with thy Birdbolt1 under the pap: in faith | secrets.

left

1 blunt arrow

King. [Reads] So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne gives not,

30

To those fresh morning drops upon the Rose,
As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse have smot.
The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
Nor shines the silver Moone one halfe so bright,
Through the transparent bosome of the deepe,
As doth thy face through teares of mine give light:
Thou shin'st in every teare that I doe weepe,
No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee:
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the teares that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my griefe will show:
But doe not love thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe.
O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell, 40
No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
Sweet leaves shade folly. Who is he comes heere?

Enter Longavile [with a paper]. The King steps aside. What Longavill, and reading: listen eare.

Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare. Long. Ay me, I am forsworne.

Ber. Why he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. Long. [King] In love I hope, sweet fellowship in shame. |

Ber. One drunkard loves another of the name. 50 Lon. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?

Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know,

Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie,
The shape of Loves Tiburne, that hangs up simplicitie.
Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to move.
O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Love,
These numbers will I teare, and write in prose.
Ber. O Rimes are gards1 on wanton Cupids hose,
Disfigure not his Shop.
1 ornaments
Lon. This same shall goe. He reades the Sonnet.

Did not the heavenly Rhetoricke of thine eye, 61
'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Perswade my heart to this false perjurie?
Vowes for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A Woman I forswore, but I will prove,
Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee.
My Vow was earthly, thou a heavenly Love.
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine,
Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:

53. triumphery: triumviry-2Rowe.

59. Shop slop-THEOBALD.

71

If broken then, it is no fault of mine:

If by me broke, What foole is not so wise,
To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?

Ber. This is the liver veine, which makes flesh a deity. A greene Goose, a Coddesse, pure pure Idolatry. God amend us, God amend, we are much out o' th' way.

Enter Dumaine [with a paper].

80

Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay. [Steps aside.] Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play, Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie, And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.

More Sacks to the myll. O heavens I have my wish, Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish. Dum. O most divine Kate.

Bero. O most prophane coxcombe.

Dum. By heaven the wonder of a mortall eye. Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye. Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted. Ber. An Amber coloured Raven was well noted.

Dum. As upright as the Cedar.

Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child.
Dum. As faire as day.

90

Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine.

Dum. O that I had my wish?

Lon. And I had mine.

kin. And mine too good Lord.

Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?

76. Coddesse: goddess-IQ. 87. of a: in a-1Q.

89. coted: quoted-CAPELL.

91-3. 2 rhymed 11.-THEOBALD.

97. And mine: And I mine-JOHNSON.

Dum. I would forget her, but a Fever she Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be.

100

Ber. A Fever in your bloud, why then incision Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision. Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I have writ. Ber. Once more Ile marke how Love can varry Wit.

Dumane reades his Sonnet.

On a day, alack the day:

Love, whose Month is every May,

Spied a blossome passing faire,

Playing in the wanton ayre:

Through the Velvet, leaves the winde,

All unseene, can passage finde.
That the Lover sicke to death,
Wish himselfe the heavens breath.

Ayre (quoth be) thy cheekes may blowe,
Ayre, would I might triumph so.
But alacke my band is sworne,
Nere to plucke thee from thy throne:
Vow alacke for youth unmeete,
Youth so apt to plucke a sweet.
Doe not call it sinne in me,
That I am forsworne for thee.
Thou for whom Jove would sweare,
Juno but an Ethiop were,
And denie himselfe for Jove.
Turning mortall for thy Love.

This will I send, and something else more plaine.
That shall expresse my true-loves fasting paine.

107. every: ever- -12.

117. throne: thorn-2RowE.

O would the King, Berowne and Longavill,
Were Lovers too, ill to example ill,

Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note: 130
For none offend, where all alike doe dote.

Lon. [Advancing] Dumaine, thy Love is farre from charitie,

That in Loves griefe desir'st societie:

You may looke pale, but I should blush I know,
To be ore-heard, and taken napping so.

Kin. [Advancing] Come sir, you blush as his,

your case is such, |

You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You doe not love Maria? Longavile,

140

Did never Sonnet for her sake compile ;
Nor never lay his wreathed armes athwart
His loving bosome, to keepe downe his heart.
I have beene closely shrowded in this bush,
And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty Rimes, observ'd your fashion :
Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion.
Aye me, sayes one ! O Jove, the other cries!
On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,

[To Long.]

And Jove for your Love would infringe an oath.

[To Dum.]

What will Berowne say when that he shall heare 150
Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare.

How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that ever I did see,

I would not have him know so much by me.

147. On ber: One, her-1Q.

151. Faith: Faith so-GLOBE.