Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames, [The Ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views! Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views ! Boyet. True; out indeed. Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold. 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. If they do speak our language, 'tis our will Boyet. What would you with the princess? Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass. Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches Is in one mile: if they have measur❜d many, The measure then of one is easily told. Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur❜d miles, 9 To tread a measure-] The measures were dances solemn and slow. And many miles; the princess bids you tell, Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. Boyet. She hears herself. Ros. How many weary steps, Of many weary miles you have o’ergone, Are number'd in the travel of one mile? Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you; Our duty is so rich, so infinite, That we may do it still without accompt. Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face, That we, like savages, may worship it. Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds remov'd,) upon our wat❜ry eyne. Ros. O vain petitioner ! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water. King. Then, in our measure do + but vouchsafe one change: Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, musick, then: nay, you must do it soon. [Musick plays. Not yet; no dance: - thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estrang'd? Ros. You took the moon at full; but now she's chang'd. King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The musick plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. King. But your legs should do it. Ros. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance, We'll not be nice: take hands; we will not dance. King. Why take we hands then? King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your company? Ros. Your absence only. King. That can never be. Ros. Then cannot we be bought and so adieu; : Twice to your visor, and half once to you! King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. King. I am best pleas'd with that. Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three, Biron. Nay then, two treys, (an if you grow so nice,) Metheglin, wort, and malmsey; - Well run, dice! There's half a dozen sweets. Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu! Since you can cog', I'll play no more with you. Biron. One word in secret. Biron. Thou griev'st my gall. Prin. Biron. Let it not be sweet. Gall? bitter. Therefore meet. [They converse apart. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? 1 Since you can cog,] To cog, signifies to falsify the dice, and to falsify a narrative, or to lye. JOHNSON. Dum. Please it you, As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. [They converse apart. Kath. What, was your visor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. Kath. O, for your reason! quickly, sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless visor half. Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman; - Is not veal a calf? Long. A calf, fair lady? Kath. Long. Let's part the word. Kath. No, a fair lord calf. No, I'll not be your half: Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks! Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen; Above the sense of sense: so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings, Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. [Exeunt King, Lords, MOTH, Musick, and Attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites. Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out. Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to night? Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Birón was out of countenance quite. Ros. O they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. Prin. Birón did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No point, quoth I3; my servant straight was mute. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin. Kath. Yes, in good faith. Qualm, perhaps. 4 Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. Prin. And quick Birón hath plighted faith to me. Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be, They will digest this harsh indignity. Prin. Will they return? Boyet. They will, they will, God knows, Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. 2 Well-liking wits,—] Well-liking is the same as embonpoint. 3 No point, quoth I;] Point in French is an adverb of negation; but if properly spoken, is not sounded like the point of a sword. A quibble, however, is intended. 4 better wits have worn plain statute-caps.] Dr. Johnson thinks this is an allusion to the statute cap of the universities. Mr. Steevens, that it means better wits may be found among the citizens, who wore a kind of woollen-cap by statute. |