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, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father. Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialities are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. 'Fray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan. Ros. Is the fool sick? Biron. Sick at the heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physick says, I. Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? Ros. No poynt, with my knife. Biron. Now, God save thy life! [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that same? Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosalin her name. [Exit. Long. I beseech you, a word; What is she in the white? 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. Long. Pray, you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard. Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Biron. What's her name, in the cap? [Exit Long. Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no? Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu! Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron. Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. 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. Mar. Too hot sheeps, marry! And wherefore not ships? Boyet. No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. [Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though several they be 13. Boyet. Belonging to whom? Mar. To my fortunes and me. Frin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles agree: The civil war of wits were much better used Prin. With what? Boyet. With that which we lovers intitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were glass'd, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. His face's own margent did quote such amazes, An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'dBoyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclos'd: 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 speak'st skilfully. Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? Enter ARMADO and MOTH. Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Moth. Concolinel 14. [Singing. |