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Hero. And here's another,
Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our nearts-Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.

[Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick, the married man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humour: dost thou think, I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: in brief, since I do propose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.-For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art

like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin.

Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends:-Let's have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

Bene. First o' my word; therefore, play, music.Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife; there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with

horn.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.-Strike up, pipers. [Dance. Exeunt.

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ACT I

SCENE I.-NAVARRE. A Park, with a Palace in it. Enter the King, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring time, The endeavour of this present breath may buy

That honour, which shall bato his scythe's keen edge,
And make us heirs of all eternity.

Therefore, brave conquerors!--for so you are,
That war against your own affections,
And the huge army of the world's desires,-
Our late edíct shall strongly stand in force:
Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;

Our court shall be a little academe,

Still and contemplative in living art.
You three, Birón, Dumain, and Longaville,

Have sworn for three years' term to live with me,

My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes,
That are recorded in this schedule here:

Your oaths are pass'd, and now subscribe your names;
That his own hand may strike his honour down,
That violates the smallest branch herein:
If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oath, and keep it too.

Long. I am resolved: 'tis but a three years' fast;
The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bank'rout quite the wits.
Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified;
The grosser manner of these world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves:
To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die;
With all these living in philosophy.

Biron. I can but say their protestation over,
So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
That is, to live and study here three years.
But there are other strict observances;

As, not to see a woman in that term;
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there:
And, one day in a week to touch no food;
And but one meal on every day beside;
The which, I hope, is not enrolled there:
And then, to sleep but three hours in the night,
And not be seen to wink of all the day,
(When I was wont to think no harm all night,
And make a dark night too of half the day ;)
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there:
O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep;
Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.

King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.
Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please;

I only swore to study with your grace,
And stay here in your court for three years' space.
Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest.
Biron. By yea and nay, Sir, then I swore in jest.—
What is the end of study? let me know. [know.
King. Why, that to know, which else we should not
Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from com-

mon sense?

King. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense.
Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus,-To study where I well may dine,
When I to feast expressly am forbid;
Or, study where to meet some mistress fine,
When mistresses from common sense are hid;
Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If study's gain be thus, and this be so,
Study knows that which yet it doth not know:
Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.

King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our intellects to vain delight.

Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that mos Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: [vain As, painfully to pore upon a book,

To seek the light of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look:

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile :
So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
Study me how to please the eye indeed,

By fixing it upon a fairer eye;

Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed,
And give him light that it was blinded by.
Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,

That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights,
That give a name to every fixed star,
Have no more profit of their shining nights,

Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Too much to know, is to know naught but fame;
And every godfather can give a name.

King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.

Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are Dum. How follows that?

Biron. Kit in his place and time.

Dum. In reason nothing.

Biron. Something then in rhyme.

[a-breeding.

Long. Biron is like an envious sneaping frost,
That bites the first-born infants of the spring.

Biron. Well, say I am; why should proud summer
Before the birds have any cause to sing?

Why should I joy in an abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,

Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;

But like of each thing that in season grows.

So you, to study now it is too late,

Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate.

[boast,

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King. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!

Biron. [Reads.] "Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court.”—

And hath this been proclaim'd?

Long. Four days ago.

Biron. Let's see the penalty.

[Reads.] "On pain of losing her tongue."—

Who devised this?

Long. Marry, that did I.

Biron. Sweet lord, and why?

Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. Biron. A dangerous law against gentility.

[Reads.] "Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise."

This article, my liege, yourself must break;

For well you know, here comes in embassy

The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak,A maid of grace and complete majesty,

About surrender-up of Aquitain

To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Therefore this article is made in vain,

Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot. Biron. So study evermore is overshot; While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should: And when it hatn the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost.

King. We must, of force, dispense with this decree; She must lie here on mere necessity.

Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years' space: For every man with his affects is born;

Not by might master'd, but by special grace:

If I break faith, this word shall speak for me,

I am forsworn on mere necessity.

So to the laws at large I write my name: [Subscribes.
And he that breaks them in the least degree,
Stands in attainder of eternal shame:
Suggestions are to others, as to me;

But I believe, although I seem so loath,

I am the last that will last keep his oath.

But is there no quick recreation granted?

[haunted

King. Ay, that there is: our court, you know, is

With a refined traveller of Spain;

A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain:
One, whom the music of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony;

A man of complements, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny:
This child of fancy, that Armado hight,

For interim to our studies, shall relate,

In high-born words, the worth of many a knight
From tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate.
How you delight, my lords, I know not, I;
But, I protest, I love to hear him lie,
And I will use him for my minstrelsy.

Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight,

A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight.
Long. Costard the swain, and he, shall be our sport;
And, so to study, three years is but short.

Enter DELL, with a letter, and COSTARD. Dull. Which is the duke's own person? Biron. This, fellow; what wouldst? Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.

Biron. This is he.

Dull. Signior Arme-Arme-commends you. There's villany abroad; this letter will tell you more.

Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.

Long. A high hope for a low having: God grant us patience!

Biron. To hear? or forbear hearing?

Long. To hear meekly, Sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both.

Biron. Well, Sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb in the merriness.

Cost. The matter is to me, Sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the

manner.

Biron. In what manner?

Cost. In manner and form following, Sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is, in manner and form following. Now, Sir, for the manner,-it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,-in some form.

Biron. For the following, Sir?

Cost. As it shall follow in my correction; and God defend the right!

King. Will you hear this letter with attention?

Biron. As we would hear an oracle.

Cost. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh.

King. [Reads.] "Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's God, and body's fostering patron,"

Cost. Not a word of Costard yet.

King. So it is,-"

Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in telling true, but so, so.

King. Peace.

Cost. -be to me, and every man that dares not fight! King. No words.

Cost. of other men's secrets, I beseech you. King. "So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when? About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper. So much for the time when: now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon; it is yeleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest: but to the place, where, it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted garden: | there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,"

Cost. Me. King.

Cost. Me.

that unletter'd small-knowing soul,”—

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Cost. O me!

King, "-sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, with-with,-O with-but with this I passion to say wherewith,"

Cost. With a wench.

King. "with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female: or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I (as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Antony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation."

Dull. Me, an't shall please you; I am Antony Dull. King. "For Jaquenetta, (so is the weaker vessel called, which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,) I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO."

Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard.

King. Ay, the best for the worst.—But, sirrah, what say you to this?

Cost. Sir, I confess the wench.

King. Did you hear the proclamation?

Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.

King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken with a wench.

Cost. I was taken with none, Sir; I was taken with a damosel.

King. Well, it was proclaimed damosel.

Cost. This was no damosel neither, Sir, she was a virgin.

King. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed, virgin.

Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid.

King. This maid will not serve your turn, Sir.
Cost. This maid will serve my turn, Sir.

King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence; you shall fast a week with bran and water.

Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.

King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.-
My lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er.-

And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.

[Exeunt King, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.— Sirrah, come on.

Cost. I suffer for the truth, Sir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore, Welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again, and till then, Sit thee down, sorrow! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the same. ARMADO's House. Enter ARMADO and Mоти.

Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?

Moth. A great sign, Sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.

Moth. No, no; O lord, Sir, no.

Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?

Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior.

Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.

Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough.

Arm. Pretty, and apt.

Moth. How mean you, Sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty?

Arm. Thou pretty, because little.

Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master?

Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Arm. What? that an cel is ingenious?

Moth. That an eel is quick.

Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood.

Moth. I am answered, Sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed.

Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses love not him. [Aside Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, Sir."
Arm. Impossible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

Arm. I am ill at reckoning,-it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, Sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.
Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three.
Arm. True.

Moth. Why, Sir, is this such a piece of study? Now | here is three studied, ere you'll thrice wink and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. To prove you a cipher.

[Aside.

Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and, as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks, I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?

Moth. Hercules, master.

Arm. Most sweet Hercules!-More anthority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love.

Arm. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too,-who was Samson's love, my dear Moth?

Moth. A woman, master.

Arm. Of what complexion?

Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two; or one of the four.

Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion.
Moth. Of the sea-water green, Sir.

Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, Sir; and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit.

Moth. It was so, Sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue,

assist me!

Arm, Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical!

Moth. If she be made of white and red,

Her fauits will ne'er be known;

For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shewn

Then, if she fear, or be to blame,

By this you shall not know;

For still her cheeks possess the same,

Which native she doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.

Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some nighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my [1side Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. Arm. I say, sing.

master.

Moth. Forbear till this company be past..

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Enter DULL, COSTARD. and JAQUENETTA. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week: for this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.

Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid.
Jaq. Man.

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.

Jaq. That's hereby.

tra. I know where it is situate.

Jaq. Lord, how wise you are!

Arm. I will tell thee wonders.

Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

Jay. So I heard you say.

Arm. And so farewell.

Joq. Fair weather after you!
Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away.

Exeunt DELL and JAQ.

Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere Lou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, S.r, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.

Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up.
Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away.

Cost. Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, Sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see

Moth. What shall some see?

Cost. Nay nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God, I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt MOTH and CoSTARD, Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: and how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar: love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Samson was so tempted,-and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced,--and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not Serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but h's glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

ACT II

[Exit.

SCENE I-Another part of the same. A Pavilion and
Tents at a distance.

Enter the Princess of France, ROSALINE, MARIA,
KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants.
Boyet. Now, Madam, summon up your dearest spirits:
Consider whom the king your father sends;
To whom he sends; and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem;
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain; a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
Aud prodigally gave them all to you.
Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you inuch willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker,-Good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame"
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,

Till painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,

To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor:
Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Importunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will.
Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.-
Who are the votaries, my loving lords,

That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?

1 Lord. Longaville is one.

Prin. Know you the man?

[Exit.

Mar. I know him, Madam; at a marriage feast, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge solémnised, In Normandy saw I this Longaville: A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, (If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,) Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will; Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills It should none spare that come within his power. Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Mar. They say so most that most his humours know. Prin. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest?

Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth,
Of all that virtue love for virtue loved:
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And much too little of that good I saw
Is my report to his great worthiness.

Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: if I have heard a truth,
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love,
That every one her own hath garnished
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

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Enter King, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and
Attendants.

King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet; the roof of this court is too high to be yours: and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine.

King. You shall be welcome, Madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else.

King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear your grace hath sworn-out house-keeping:
'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,

94

And sin to break it:

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold;
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

[Gives a paper.
King, Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjured, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know, you did.

Ros. How needless was it then

To ask the question!

Biron. You must not be so quick.

Ros. 'Tis 'long of you, that spur me with such questions.
Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.
Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Ros. The hour that fools should ask.

Biron. Now fair befall your mask!

Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!

Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.

Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum,

Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say that he, or we, (as neither have,)

Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid

A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which

One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valued to the money's worth.

If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid

A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,

On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,

To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,

Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
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.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arrest your word:-
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a sum, from special officers

Of Charles his father.

King. Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come,
Where that and other specialties are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:

You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so received,
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

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 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.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

[blocks in formation]

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.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, Sir; that may be.

[Exit LONGAVILLE.

Biron. What's her name, in the cap?
Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?
Boyet. To her will, Sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, Sir; adien!

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. Two hot sheeps, marry!

Boyet. And wherefore not ships?

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. Not so, gentle beast;

[Offering to kiss her.

My lips are no common, though several they be.
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree:
The civil war of wits were much better used

On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. If my obscrvation, (which very seldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.
Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed:
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
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,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed--
Boyet. But to speak that in words which his eye hath
disclosed.

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 skil

fully.

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 wenehes?

Mar. No.

Boyet. What then, do you see?
Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.
Boyet. You are too hard for me,

[Exeunt.

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