O, 'tis the fun, that maketh all things fhine.
King. By heav'n, thy love is black as ebony.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of fuch wood were felicity.

O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may (wear beauty doth beauty lack,
If that the learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair that is not full fo black.
King. O paradox, black is the badge of hell

The hue of dungeons, and the ftole of night. Biron. And beauty's drefs becomes the heavens well. Devils fooneft tempt, resembling fpirits of light; O, if in black my lady's brow be deckt,

It mourns, that painting, and ufurped hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect:

And therefore is the born to make black fair, Her favour turns the fashion of the days,

For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid difpraife, Paints it felf black to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black? Long. And fince her time, are colliers counted bright ? King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack? Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your miftreffes dare never come in rain, For fear their colours fhould be washt away.

King. 'Twere good yours did: for, Sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wafht to-day."

Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here. King. No devil will fright thee then fo much as the. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff fo dear.

Long. Look, here's thy love, my foot and her face fee.. Biron. O, if the ftreets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for fuch tread. Dum. O vile! then as he goes, what upward lyes The ftreet fhould fee as the walk'd over head. King. But what of this, are we not all in love? Biron. Nothing fo fure, and thereby all forfworn. King. Then leave this chat, and, good Biron, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.

Dum. Ay marry there, fome flattery for this evil.
Long. O fome authority how to proceed,

Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil?
Dum. Some falve for perjury!

Biron, 0, 'tis more than need.

Have at you then, affection's Men at arms;
Confider what you firft did swear unto:
To faft, to ftudy, and to fee no woman;
Flat treafon 'gainft the kingly fate of youth.
Say, can you faft? your ftomachs are too young:
And abftinence ingenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to ftudy (Lords)
In that each of you hath forfworn his book,
Can you ftill dream and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my Lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of ftudy's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From womens eyes this doctrine I derive;
They are the ground, the books, the academes.
From whence doth spring the true Prometbear fire :
Why, univerfal plodding poifons up
The nimble fpirits in the arteries;
As motion and long-during action tires
The finewy vigour of the traveller.
Now for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forfworn the use of eyes,
And ftudy too, the caufer of your vow.
For where is any author in the world,
Teaches fuch beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to our felf,
And where we are, our learning likewife is.
Then when our felves we fee in ladies eyes,
Do we not likewife fee our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords,

And in that vow we have forfworn our books:
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery notions as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other flow arts entirely keep the brain;

Dd 2

And

And therefore finding barren practifers,
Scarce fhew a harvest of their heavy toil.
But love, firft learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain :
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as fwift as thought in every power,
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious feeing to the eye:
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind :
A lover's ear will hear the lowest found,
When the fufpicious head of theft is stopt.
Love's feeling is more foft and fenfible
Than are the tender horns of cockled fnails.
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus grofs in tafte;
For valour, is not love a Hercules

Still climbing trees in the Hefperides?
Subtle as Sphinx, as fweet and mufical
As bright Apollo's lute, ftrung with his hair?
And when love speaks, the voice of all the Gods,
Makes heaven drowfie with the harmony.
Never durft poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's fighs;
O, then his lines would ravish favage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.

From womens eyes this doctrine I derive :
They sparkle ftill the right Promethean fire,
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That fhew, contain, and nourish all the world;
Elfe none at all in ought proves excellent.
Then fools you were, these women to forfwear:
Or, keeping what is fworn, you
will prove
fools.
For wifdom's fake, a word that all men love;
Or for love's fake, a word that moves all men ;
Or for mens fake, the author of these women;
Or womens fake, by whom we men are men ;
Let us once lofe our oaths, to find our felves;
Or else we lose our felves, to keep our oaths.
It is religion to be thus forfworn,
For charity it felf fulfills the law;

And

And who can fever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid then! and, foldiers, to the field! Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, Lords; Pell mell, down with them: but be firft advis'd, In conflict that you get the fun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing, lay these gloffes by, Shall we refolve to woo thefe girls of France?

King. And win them too; therefore let us devife Some entertainment for them in their tents.

Biron. First from the park let us conduct them thither,
Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair miftrefs; in the afternoon

We will with fome ftrange paftime folace them,
Such as the shortnefs of the time can shape:
For revels, dances, mafks, and merry hours,
Forerun fair love, ftrewing her way with flowers.
King Away, away, no time fhall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.

Biron. Allons! Allons! fowed cockle reaps no corn, .
And justice always whirls in equal measure:

Light wenches may prove plagues to men forfworn ;
If fo, our copper buys no better treasure.

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel and Dull
Atis quod fufficit.

Hol. SA

[Exeunt.

Nath. I praife God for you, Sir, your reafons at dinner have been sharp and fententious; pleasant without fcurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and ftrange without herefie: I did converse this quondam-day with a companion of the King's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi bominem tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate majeftical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrafonical. He is too picked, too fpruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.

Nath,

Nath. A moft fingular and choice epithet!

[Draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the ftaple of his argument. I abhor such phanatical phantafms, fuch infociable and point-devife companions, fuch rackers of orthography, as do fpeak dout fine, when he fhould fay doubt; det, when he fhould pronounce debt d, e, b,t; not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf: half, hauf: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abbreviated ne : this is abominable, which we would call abhominable, it infinuateth to me of infanie: Ne intelligis, Domine, to make frantick, lunatick ?

Nath. Laus deo, bone intelligo."

Hol. Bone? bone for benè; Prifcian a little scratch'd,

'twill ferve.

SCENE II. Enter Armado, Moth and Coftard. Nath. Videfne quis venit?

Hol. Video, & gaudeo.

Arm. Chirra.

Hol. Quare Chirrah, not Sirrah?

Arm. Men of peace, well encountred.

Hol. Moft military Sir, falutation.

Moth. They have been at a great feaft of languages, and ftole the scraps.

Coft. O, they have liv'd long on the Alms-basket of words. I marvel thy mafter hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou art not fo long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier fwallow'd than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace, the peal begins.

Arm. Monfieur, are you not letter'd?

Moth. Yes, yes, he teaches boys the horn-book : What is A B fpelt backward with the horn on his head? Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba, moft filly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou confonant?

Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them, or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, I

Matb. The fheep; the other two concludes it, o, u.

Arm: