I should have feared her, had she been a devil."
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and swore
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,

Cry'd" Via! we will do't, come what will come :"
The third he caper'd, and cried, "All goes well:"
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell,
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's sudden tears.
Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet. They do, they do ; and are apparel'd thus,—
Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance;
And every one his love-suit will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd;
For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd,
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.—
Hold Rosaline; this favour thou shalt wear,
And then the king will court thee for his dear:
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.-
And change you favours, too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Ros. Come on then: wear the favours most in sight. Kath. But in this changing what is your intent? Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs : They do it but in mockery, merriment; And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal, Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages display'd, to talk, and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds: be mask'd, the maskers [The Ladies mask. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE, in Russian habits, and masked; Mотн, Musicians, and Attendants.

come.

Moth. "All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!"
Biron. Beauties no richer than rich taffata.
Moth. "A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

[The Ladies turn their backs to him.
That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views!"
Biron. "Their eyes," villain, "their eyes."
Moth. "That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
Out-"

Boyet. True: "out," indeed.

Moth. "Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe

Not to behold'

Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue.
Ros. What would these strangers? know their minds,
Boyet.

If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with her on this grass.
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, And many miles, the princess bids you tell, How many inches do fill up one mile.

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 removed) upon our watery 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, music, then! nay, you must do it soon. [Music plays. Not yet;;-no dance :—thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

Ros. You took the moon at full, but now she's changed. King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays: vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe 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?

Ros. Only to part friends.Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure: be not nice. Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. 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. Ros. In private then.

King. I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart. Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar: there are 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. Prin.

Let it not be sweet.

Gall? bitter.

Biron. Thou griev'st my gall.
Prin.
Biron. Therefore meet. [They converse apart.
Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
Mar. Name it.

Dum.

Mar.

Fair lady,

Take that for your fair lady. Dum.

Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin.

Qualm, perhaps.

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.
Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Kath. Bleat softly then: the butcher hears you cry.
[They converse apart.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge invisible,

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, swifterthings. 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, Music, 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, kill'd by pure flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night, Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros. O! they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumaine was at my service, and his sword: No point, quoth I: my servant straight was mute.

Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
Let's mock them still, as well, known, as disguis'd.
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder, what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt PRINCESS, Ros. KATH. and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE, in their proper habits.

King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the princess? Boyet. Gone to her tent: please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. [Exit. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas, And utters it again when God doth please. He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve: Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve. A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he, That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy: This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms: nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and, in ushering, Mend him who can the ladies call him, sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet. This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whales bone; And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart That put Armado's page out of his part! Enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants. Biron. See where he comes!—Behaviour, what wer thou,

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now?

King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive.
King. Construe my speeches better, if you may.
Prin. Then wish me better: I will give you leave.
King. We come to visit you, and purpose now

To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it, then.
Prin. This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.
King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
Prin. You nick-name virtue; vice you should have
spoke,

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unsullied lily, I protest,

A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house's guest;
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O you have liv'd in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited; much to our shame.
Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear:
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game.
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam! Russians?
Prin.

Ay, in truth, my lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.
Ros. Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord:
My lady (to the manner of these days)
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four, indeed, confronted were with four
In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
Biron. This jest is dry to me.-Fair, gentle sweet,
Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet,
With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light: your capacity

Is of that nature, that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.

And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend;

Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song; Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,

Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical: these summer flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation. I do forswear them; and I here protest,

By this white glove, (how white the hand, God
knows)

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes:
And, to begin,-wench, so God help me, la!
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Ros. Sans SANS, I pray you.
Biron.

Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage:-bear with me, I am sick;
I'll leave it by degrees. Soft! let us see:-
Write "Lord have mercy on us" on those three;
They are infected, in their hearts it lies;
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
These lords are visited; you are not free,
For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.

Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
Biron. Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us.
Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
Biron. Peace! for I will not have to do with you.
Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
Biron. Speak for yourselves: my wit is at an end.
King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude trans
gression
Some fair excuse.

eye,

Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. Biron. O! I am yours, and all that I possess. Ros. All the fool mine? Biron. I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this?

Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now downright.

Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?

Ros. Help! hold his brows! he'll swoon. look you pale?—

Why

Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.

Can any face of brass hold longer out?— Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me;

Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;

King. That more than all the world I did respect her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. King. Upon mine honour, no.

Prin.

Peace! peace! forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will; and therefore keep it.-Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-sight, and did value me Above this world; adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die my lover. Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth, I never swore this lady such an oath.

Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give : I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.-
What! will you have me, or your pearl again?

Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain.-—
I see the trick on't:-here was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas comedy.

Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh when she's dispos'd,
Told our intents before; which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change favours, and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again fors worn-in will, and error.
Much upon this it is:—and might not you [To BOYET.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You put our page out: go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

Cost. O Lord! sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine own part, I am, as they say, but to pursent one man,-e'en one poor man- -Pompion the great, sir.

Biron. Art thou one of the Worthies?

Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great for mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare.

some care.

Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir: we will take [Exit CoSTARD. King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not approach.

Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis some policy

To have one show worse than the king's and his company.

King. I say, they shall not come.

Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you now. That sport best pleases, that doth least know how: Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Die in the zeal of them which it presents, Their form confounded makes most form in mirth; When great things labouring perish in their birth. Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord. Enter ARMADO.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of

thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

[ARMADO converses with the KING, and delivers a paper to him. Prin. Doth this man serve God?

Biron. Why ask you?

Prin. A' speaks not like a man of God's making. Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I protest, the school-master is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain: but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement! [Exit ARMADO.

King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabeus. And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other five. Biron. There is five in the first show.

King. You are deceived; 'tis not so.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and the boy:

Cost. "I Pompey am,Boyet.

You lie, you are not he.

With libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee.

Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,—” Dum. The great.

Cost. It is great, sir;-" Pompey surnam'd the great; That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat:

And travelling along this coast I here am come by chance,

And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France."

If your ladyship would say, "Thanks, Pompey," I had done.

Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect. I made a little fault in, "great." Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.

Enter Sir NATHANIEL armed, for Alexander. Nath. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;

By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might:

My 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander." Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right.

Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tendersmelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd.-Proceed, good Alexander.

Nath. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;"

Boyet. Most true; 'tis right: you were so, Alisander. Biron. Pompey the great,

Cost. Your servant, and Costard.

Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander. Cost. O! sir, [TO NATH.] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror. You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his pollaxe sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax: he