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Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore, this,
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,
There stay, until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning:
If this auftere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fafts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm, now kifling thine,
I will be thine; and, till that inftant, 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 ;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.
King. If this, or more than this, I would deny,
* To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.
Dum. But what to me, my love ? but what to me?
Kath. A wife !-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?
Kath. Not so, my lord;-a twelve-month and a day
dear]-fad. e weeds, ]-attire.
* To flatter up these powers of mine with reft,]-To footh my soul to
rest with the flattering hope of obtaining you at the laft. To flatter or
these hours of time with reft-To footh this long imposed delay.
I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd 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.
Kath. Yet swear not, left you be forsworn again, .
Long. What says Maria?
Mar. At the twelve-month'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
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there ;
Impose some service on me for thy love.
Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Biron,
Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man 8 replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons, and wounding flouts ;
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercy of your wit :
To weed this wormwood from
fruitful brain ;
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won)
You shall this twelve-month term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be
With all the h fierce endeavour of
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be ; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros. Why, that's the way to choak a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, & replete with mocks ;]-of a satirical turn, h fierce)-quick, lively. SI
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools :
A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if fickly ears,
Deaf'd with the clamours of their own
Will hear your idle scorns, continue * then,
And I will have you, and that fault withal;
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, befal what will befal,
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
(To the King King. No, madam ; we will bring you on your way.
Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
Jack hath not Jill: thele ladies' courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.
King. Come, sir, it wants a twelve-month and a day, And then 'twill end.
Biron. That's too long for a play.
Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me, -
Prin. Was not that Hector?
Dum. That worthy knight of Troy.
Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three year. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckow? it should have follow'd in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Arm. Holla! approach.-
Enter all for the song,
This side is Hiems; winter.
This Ver, the spring; the one maintain'd by the owl,
The other by the cuckow.
S ON G.
S P R I N G.
When daizies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all filver-white,
And 'cowslip buds of yellow bue,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckow tben, on every tree,
Mocks marry'd men, for thus fings be,
Cuckow, cuckow-O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckow then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus fings be,
Cuckow, cuckow - word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When icicles bang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows bis nail,
And Tom bears logs into the ball,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit, to-wbo, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth " keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's "Saw,
And birds fit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When oroasted crabs biss in the bowl,
Then nightly fings the staring owl,
Tu-whit, to-wbo, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs
of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way.
m keel]-cool it; fcum it ; ftir it with a ladle so as to prevent the boiling over ; turn it keel, or bottom, uppermoft, in order to fcour it. * faw,]-fermon. • roasted crabs hiss in the bowl]
-“ And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab.”
MIDSUMMER Night's Dream, A& II, S. 1. Puck. P The words &c.]-Prose after poetry.