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Ros. Come on, then ; wear the favors most in sight.
Prin. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
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 penned 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 mocked, depart-away with shame.
[Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be masked; the maskers come.
[The ladies mask.
Enter the King, Biron, LONGAVILLE, and Dumain, in
Russian habits, and masked ; Moth, Musicians, and
[The ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turned their-backs—to mortal views !
Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
lie. the taffeta masks they wore.
Boyet. True; out, indeed.
Moth. Out of your favors, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold
Biron. Once to behold, rogue.
-with your sun-beamed eyes-
me out. Biron. Is this your perfectness? Begone, you rogue. Ros. What would these strangers ?. Know their
Boyet. What would you with the princess ?
King. Say to her we have measured many miles, To tread a measure with her on this
grass. Boyet. They say that they have measured many a
Ros. It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Boyet. If to come hither you have measured miles,
Biron. "Tell her we measure them by weary steps.
How many weary steps,
? A grave, solemn dance, with slow and measured steps, like the minuet.
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you ; Our duty is so rich, so infinite, That we may do it still without account. Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of
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 vouchsafe but 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
Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it.
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 ?
Only to part friends.Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
That can never be.
you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. Ros. In private then. King
I am best pleased with that.
[They converse apart. 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.
Let it not be sweet.
Gall ? Bitter. Biron.
[They converse apart. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word ? Mar. Name it. Dum.
Fair lady, Mar.
Say you so ? Fair lord, Take that for your fair lady.
[They converse apart.
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
No, a fair lord calf.
No, I'll not be
half. Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.
Please it you,
I To cog is to lie or cheat; hence, to cog the dice.
Long. Look how you butt yourself in these sharp
mocks! Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
Käth. 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
Ăs 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, 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,
Music, and Attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wondered at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths
puffed 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 I ; my servant straight was mute.
Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you what he called me?
1 Well-liking is the same as well-conditioned, fat.
2 No point; a quibble on the French adverb of negation, as before, Act ii. Sc. 1.