And hold fair friendship with his majesty. An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, Which we much rather had depart withal, Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make PRIN. You do the king my father too much wrong, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. PRIN. We arrest your word:— Boyet, you can produce acquittances, BOYET. So please your grace, the packet is not come, KING. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime, 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. 'Pray 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 physic says, ay. BIRON. Will you prick 't with your eye? Ros. No poynt, with my knife. Ros. And yours from long living! BIRON. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring. DUM. Sir, I pray you a word: What lady is that same? [Exit. LONG. I beseech you a word: What is she in the white? BOYET. A woman sometimes, if 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. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [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 madcap lord; BOYET. BOYET. MAR. You sheep, and I pasture: Shall that finish the jest? 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. On Navarre and his book-men; for here 't is abus'd. PRIN. With what? BOYET. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. BOYET. Why, all his behaviours do make their retire Who, tend'ring their own worth, from whence they were glass'd, Did point out to buy them, along as you pass'd. Au you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. PRIN. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd BOYET. 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 speakest 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? ing. ACT III SCENE I-Another part of the Park. Enter ARMADO and MOTH. ARM. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hear MOTH. Concolinel, [Singing. ARM. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. MOTH. Will you win your love with a French brawl? MOTH. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat, penthouse-like, o'er the 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 long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men ?) that most are affected to these. ARM. How hast thou purchased this experience? MOTH. By my penny of observation. ARM. But 0,-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 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 prove. ARM. What wilt thou prove? Mотн. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your 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. ARM. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. MOTH. A message well sympathised; a horse to be ambassador for an ass! ARM. Ha, ha! what sayest thou? MOTH. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go. ARM. The way is but short; away. MOTH. As swift as lead, sir. ARM. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? MOTH. Minimè, honest master; or rather, master, no. ARM. I say, lead is slow. You are too swift, sir, to say so: Мотн. |