Prin. Such short-liv'd 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 lov'd:

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 years 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.

Re-enter BOYET.

Prin.

Now, what admittance, lord?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach;

8 And much too little, &c.] i. e. And my report of the good I saw, is much too little compared to his great worthiness.

And he, and his competitors in oath,"
Were all address'd' to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt,
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
(Like one that comes here to besiege his court,)
Than seek a dispensation for his oath,

To let you enter his unpeopled house.

Here comes Navarre.

[The Ladies mask.

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,
And sin to break it:

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

competitors in oath,] i. e confederates.

› Were all address'd―] To address is to prepare.
Where-] Where is here used for whereas.

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 perjur'd, 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.

To ask the question!

Biron.

How needless was it then

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,)
Receiv'd 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

An 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,3
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.
Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

We arrest your word:

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.

Mean time, 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;

3 depart withal,] To depart and to part were anciently synonymous.

But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd 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 physick says, I.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt, with my knife.
Biron. Now, God save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

[Retiring.

Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that

same?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her

name.

Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.

[Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the

white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.

4 No poynt,] A negation borrowed from the French.