I have not hitherto discovered any novel on which this comedy
appears to have been founded; and yet the story of it has most
of the features of an ancient romance.
Steevens.
I suspect that there is an error in the title of this play, which I
believe, should be—“Love's Labours Lost.”
M. Mason.
Love's Labour's Lost, I conjecture to have been written in 1594.
See An Attempt to ascertain the Order of Shakspeare's Plays.
Malone.
The first edition was published in 4to. in 1598, W. W. for
Cuthbert Burby.
Boswell.
PERSONS REPRESENTED
Ferdinand, King of Navarre.
Biron2note [Berowne]. A Lord, attending on the King.
Longaville, A Lord, attending on the King.
Dumain, A Lord, attending on the King.
Boyet, A Lord, attending on the Princess of France.
Mercade, A Lord, attending on the Princess of France.
Don Adriano de Armado, a fantastical Spaniard.
Sir Nathaniel, a curate.
Holofernes, a schoolmaster.
Dull, a constable.
Costard, a clown.
Moth, page to Armado.
A Forester.Princess of France.Rosaline, Lady, attending on the Princess.
Maria, Lady, attending on the Princess.
Katharine, Lady, attending on the Princess.
Jaquenetta, a country wench.
Officers and others, attendants on the King and Princess.[Lord], [Forester]SCENE, Navarre.
-- 279 --
LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.
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,
Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy
That honour, which shall bate 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 past, and now subscribe your names;
That his own hand may strike his honour down,
That violates the smallest branch herein:
-- 280 --
If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oath3note, and keep it too.
Long.
I am resolv'd: '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* note 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 philosophy4note
.
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 sleep5note
.
-- 281 --
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, Birón, and to the rest.
Biron.
By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest.—
What is the end of study? let me know.
King.
Why, that to know, which else we should not know.
Biron.
Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common 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 forbid6note
;
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.
-- 282 --
If study's gain be thus, and this be so7note
,
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 most vain,
Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain:
As, painfully to pore upon a book,
To seek the light of truth; while truth the while
Doth falsely blind8note
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 by9note
.
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.
-- 283 --
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 nought but fame;
And every godfather can give a name1note
.
King.
How well he's read, to reason against reading!
Dum.
Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding2note
!
Long.
He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.
Biron.
The spring is near, when green geese are a breeding.
Dum.
How follows that?
Biron.
Fit in his place and time.
Dum.
In reason nothing.
Biron.
Something then in rhyme.
-- 284 --
Long.
Birón is like an envious sneaping frost3note,
That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
Biron.
Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast,
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 grows4note
.
-- 285 --
So you, to study now it is too late,
Climb o'er the house5note
to unlock the little gate.
Biron.
No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you:
And, though I have for barbarism spoke more,
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore* note,
And bide the penance of each three years' day.
Give me the paper, let me read the same;
And to the strict'st† note decrees I'll write my name.
King.
How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!
-- 286 --
Biron. [Reads.]
Item, That no woman shall
come within a mile of my court.—Hath this been
proclaim'd?
Long.
Four days ago.
Biron.
Let's see the penalty. [Reads.]On
pain of losing her tongue.—Who devis'd this
penalty7note?
Long.
Marry, that did I.
Biron.
Sweet lord, and why?
Long.
To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
Item, If any man be seen to talk with
a woman within the term of three years, he shall
endure such publick shame as the rest of the court
can* note 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 cómplete majesty,—
-- 287 --
About surrender-up of Aquitain
To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father:
Therefore this article is made in vain,
Or vainly comes th' 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 hath 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 here9note
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 grace1note:
If I break faith, this word shall speak* note for me,
I am forsworn on mere necessity.—
-- 288 --
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:
Suggestions2note
are to others, as to me;
But, I believe, although I seem so loth,
I am the last that will last keep his oath.
But is there no quick recreation3note
granted?
King.
Ay, that there is: our court, you know, is haunted
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* note the musick of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony;
A man of complements, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny4note
:
-- 289 --
This child of fancy5note
, that Armado hight6note10Q0002,
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 debate7note
.
-- 290 --
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 minstrelsy8note.
Biron.
Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire-new words9note
, fashion's own knight.
-- 291 --
Long.
Costard the swain, and he, shall be our sport;
And, so to study, three years is but short. Enter Dull, with a letter, and Costard.
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 climb5note in the merriness.
Cost.
The matter is to me, sir, as concerning
Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with
the manner6note
.
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.
-- 293 --
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 vice-gerent,
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, so7note.
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 physick 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 ycleped 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
-- 294 --
and by east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted
garden8note
: There did I see that low-spirited
swain, that base minnow of thy mirth9note
,
Cost.
Me.
King.
—that unletter'd small-knowing soul,
Cost.
Me.
King.
—that shallow vassal,
Cost.
Still me.
King.
—which, as I remember, hight Costard,
Cost.
O me!
King.
—sorted and consorted, contrary to thy
established proclaimed edict and continent canon,
with—with1note,—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
-- 295 --
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 fury2note;
and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her
to trial. Thine, in all complements of devoted and
heart-burning heat of duty,
Don Adriano de Armando.
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 it3note
.
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* note.
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.
-- 296 --
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 Birón, see him deliver'd o'er.—
And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other has 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* note down, sorrow!
[Exeunt.SCENE II.Another part of the Same. Armado's House.
Enter Armado and Moth.
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 imp4note
.
Moth.
No, no; O lord, sir, no.
-- 297 --
Arm.
How canst thou part sadness and melancholy,
my tender juvenal5note
?
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 time6note
, which we may name tough.
-- 298 --
Arm.
Pretty, and apt.
Moth.
How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my
saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty?
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 him7note?
[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 tapster8note.
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.
-- 299 --
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 you9note
[unresolved image link]
.
-- 300 --
Arm.
A most fine figure!
Moth.
To prove you a cypher.
[Aside.
-- 301 --
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.
-- 302 --
Arm.
Most sweet Hercules!—More authority,
dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let
them be men of good repute and carriage.
Moth.
Sampson, master: he was a man of good
carriage, great carriage; for he carried the towngates
on his back, like a porter: and he was in
love.
Arm.
O well-knit Sampson! strong-jointed
Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much
as thou did'st me in carrying gates. I am in love
too,—Who was Sampson'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.
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 faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing4note cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shown:
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 owe5note
.
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of
white and red.
Arm.
Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King
and the Beggar6note?
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.
-- 304 --
Arm.
I will have the subject newly writ o'er,
that I may example my digression7note
by some mighty
precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that
I took in the park with the rational hind Costard8note
;
she deserves well.
Moth.
To be whipped; and yet a better love
than my master.
[Aside.
Arm.
Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.
Moth.
And that's great marvel, loving a light
wench.
Arm.
I say, sing.
Moth.
Forbear till this company be past.
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'* note must fast three
days a week: For this damsel, I must keep her at
the park; she is allowed for the day-woman9note. Fare
you well.
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 Sampson was so
tempted; and he had an excellent strength: yet
was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good
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 turn7note; the passado he respects not, the duello
he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy;
but his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour!
rust, rapier8note
! 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
sonneteer9note
. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for
whole volumes in folio.
[Exit.ACT II.SCENE I.Another part of the Same. A Pavillion 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 spirits1note:
-- 308 --
Consider who 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,
And prodigally gave them all to you.
Prin.
Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise2note
;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues3note
:
-- 309 --
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much 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 worthiness4note, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor:
Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Impórtunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humbly-visag'd suitors, his high will.
Boy.
Proud of employment, willingly I go. [Exit.
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?
Mar.
I know him, madam; at a marriage feast,
Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Falconbridge solémnized,
In Normandy saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd6note
, 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 with8note 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-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:
-- 311 --
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* note had no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And much too little9note 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,
Birón 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. Re-enter Boyet.
Prin.
Now, what admittance, lord?
Boyet.
Navarre had notice of your fair approach;
And he, and his competitors in oath1note
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,
Where3note
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 it4note
:
-- 313 --
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 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 once5note?
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 begone.
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.
-- 314 --
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 payment6note
of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;
Which we much rather had depart withal7note
,
-- 315 --
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded8note
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.
Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
-- 316 --
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied fair* note harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit† note 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.
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 Long.
Biron.
What's her name, in the cap?
Boyet.
Katharine, by good hap.
-- 318 --
Biron.
Is she wedded, or no?
Boyet.
To her will, sir, or so.
Biron.
You are welcome, sir; adieu!
Boyet.
Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron.—Ladies unmask.
Mar.
That last is Birón, 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 lips5note
.
Mar.
You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest?
Boyet.
So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her.
Mar.
Not so, gentle beast;
My lips are no common, though several they be6note
.
Boyet.
Belonging to whom?
Mar.
To my fortunes and me.
Prin.
Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree:
-- 319 --
The civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
-- 320 --
Boyet.
If my observation, (which very seldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes7note
,
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 see8note
,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking9note
on fairest of fair:
-- 321 --
Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in chrystal 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 amazes1note
,
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 pavillion: Boyet is dispos'd—
Boyet.
But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclos'd:
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 skilfully.
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 wenches?
Mar.
No.
Boyet.
What then, do you see?
Ros.
Ay, our way to be gone.
Boyet.
You are too hard for me. [Exeunt.
-- 322 --
ACT III.SCENE I.Another part of the Same.Enter Armado and Moth.
Arm.
Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.
Sweet air!—Go, tenderness of years; take
this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him
festinately hither3note; I must employ him in a letter
to my love.
-- 323 --
Moth.
Master* note, will you win your love with a
French brawl4note
?
Arm.
How meanest thou? brawling in French?
Moth.
No, my complete master: but to jig off
a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your† notefeet5note, humour it with turning up your eye-lids‡ note;
sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through
the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing
love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed
up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like,
o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms
crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on
a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man
after the old painting6note; and keep not too long in
one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements7note,
these are humours; these betray8note nice
-- 324 --
wenches—that would be betrayed without these;
and make them men of note, (do you note, men?)
that most are affected to these9note.
No, master; the hobby-horse is but a
colt3note, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have
you forgot your love?
Arm.
Almost I had.
Moth.
Negligent student! learn her by heart.
Arm.
By heart, and in heart, boy.
Moth.
And out of heart, master: all those three
I will prove.
Arm.
What wilt thou prove?
Moth.
A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and
without, upon the instant: By heart you love her,
because your heart cannot come by her: in heart
you love her, because your heart is in love with her;
and out of heart you love her, being out of heart
that you cannot enjoy her.
Arm.
I am all these three.
Moth.
And three times as much more, and yet
nothing at all.
Arm.
Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me
a letter.
Moth.
A message well sympathised; a horse to
be embassador for an ass!
Arm.
Ha, ha! what sayest thou?
Moth.
Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon
the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go.
Arm.
The way is but short; away.
Moth.
As swift as lead, sir.
Arm.
Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
Moth. Minimè, honest master; or rather, master, no.
Arm.
Sweet smoke of rhetorick!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:—
I shoot thee at the swain.
Moth.
Thump then, and I flee. [Exit.
Arm.
A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace!
By thy favour, sweet welkin5note, I must sigh in thy face:
Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd.
-- 327 --
Re-enter Moth and Costard.
Moth.
A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken6note
in a shin.
Arm.
Some enigma, some riddle: come,—thy l'envoy;—begin.
: O* note, sir, plantain, a plain plantain;
no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain!
-- 328 --
Arm.
By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy
silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs
provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, pardon me,
my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for
l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve?
-- 329 --
Moth.
Do the wise think them other? is not
l'envoy a salve?
Arm.
No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
I will example it9note
:
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
There's the moral: Now the l'envoy.
Moth.
I will add the l'envoy: Say the moral again.
Arm.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Moth.
Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding four.
Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow
with my l'envoy.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Arm.
Until the goose came out of door,
Staying the odds by adding four.
Moth.
A good l'envoy, ending in the goose;
Would you desire more?
Cost.
The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat:—
Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.—
To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.
Arm.
Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?
-- 330 --
Moth.
By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.
Then call'd you for the l'envoy.
Cost.
True, and I for a plantain: Thus came your argument in;
Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;
And he ended the market1note.
Arm.
But tell me; how was there a Costard
broken in a shin2note
?
Moth.
I will tell you sensibly.
Cost.
Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will
speak that l'envoy:
I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.
Arm.
We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost.
Till there be more matter in the shin.
Arm.
Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost.
O, marry me to one Frances;—I smell some
l'envoy, some goose, in this.
Arm.
By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at
liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured,
restrained, captivated, bound.
Cost.
True, true; and now you will be my purgation,
and let me loose.
Arm.
I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance;
and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing
-- 331 --
but this: Bear this significant to the country maid
Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [Giving him
money;] for the best ward of mine honour, is, rewarding
my dependents. Moth, follow.
!—
[Exit Moth.
Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration!
O, that's the Latin word for three farthings:
-- 332 --
three farthings—remuneration.—What's the price
of this inkle? a penny:—No, I'll give you a remuneration:
why, it carries it.—Remuneration!—
why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will
never buy and sell out of this word.
Enter Biron.
Biron.
O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly
well met.
Cost.
Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon
may a man buy for a remuneration?
Biron.
What is a remuneration?
Cost.
Marry, sir, half-penny farthing.
Biron.
O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk.
Cost.
I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron.
O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
Cost.
When would you have it done, sir?
Biron.
O, this afternoon.
Cost.
Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron.
O, thou knowest not what it is.
Cost.
I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron.
Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost.
I will come to your worship to-morrow
morning.
Biron.
It must be done this afternoon. Hark,
slave, it is but this;—
-- 333 --
The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
[Gives him money.
Cost.
Guerdon,—O sweet guerdon! better than
remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better5note
Biron.
O!—And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;
A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
A critick; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent7note
, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid9note
;
-- 335 --
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
-- 336 --
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets1note, king of codpieces,
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting paritors2note,—O my little heart!—
And I to be a corporal of his field3note
A woman, that is like a German clock* note,
Still a repairing6note
; ever out of frame;
-- 339 --
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan7note;
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan8note.
[Exit.ACT IV.SCENE I.Another part of the Same.Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine,
Boyet, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.
Prin.
Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse so hard
-- 340 --
Against the steep uprising of the hill?
Boyet.
I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin.
Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind.
Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.—
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murderer in9note
?
For.
Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot.
Prin.
I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot.
For.
Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
Prin.
What, what? first praise me, and again say, no?
O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
For.
Yes, madam, fair.
Prin.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow;
, take this for telling true.
[Giving him money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
For.
Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
Prin.
See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.—
But come, the how:—Now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
If wounding, then it was to shew my skill,
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart2note
:
-- 342 --
As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill3note.
Boyet.
Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty4note
Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?
Prin.
Only for praise: and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord. Enter Costard.
Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest
that have no heads.
Cost.
Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin.
The thickest, and the tallest.
Cost.
The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth.
-- 343 --
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.
Prin.
What's your will, sir? what's your will?
Cost.
I have a letter from monsieur Birón, to one lady Rosaline.
Prin.
O, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend of mine:
Stand aside, good bearer.—Boyet, you can carve;
Break up this capon7note
,
Boyet.
I am bound to serve.—
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.
Prin.
We will read it, I swear;
Break the neck of the wax8note
, and every one give ear.
Boyet. [Reads.]
By heaven, that thou art fair,
-- 344 --
is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous;
truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than
fair, beautiful than beauteous; truer9note than truth
itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal!
The magnanimous and most illustrate1note
set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar
Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly
say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize* note in the
vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he
came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw3note, two;
overcame, three. Who came? the king; Why
did he come? to see; Why did he see? to overcome:
To whom came he? to the beggar; What saw he?
the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The
conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's:
the captive is enriched; On whose side? the beggar's;
The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whose
side? the king's?—no, on both in one, or one in
both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison:
thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness.
-- 345 --
Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce
thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I
will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes;
For tittles, titles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting
thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my
eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every
part.
Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
Don Adriano de Armado.
Thus dost thou hear4note the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play:
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.
Prin.
What plume of feathers is he, that indited this letter?
What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever hear better?
Boyet.
I am much deceived, but I remember the style.
Prin.
Else your memory is bad, going o'er it5note erewhile6note
.
Boyet.
This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;
A phantasm, a Monarcho7note
, and one that makes sport
-- 346 --
To the prince, and his book-mates.
Prin.
Thou, fellow, a word:
Who gave thee this letter?
Cost.
I told you; my lord.
-- 347 --
Prin.
To whom shouldst thou give it?
Cost.
From my lord to my lady.
Prin.
From which lord, to which lady?
-- 348 --
Cost.
From my lord Birón, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline.
Prin.
Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away9note
.
Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. [Exeunt Princess and Train.
Ros.
If we choose by the horns, yourself: come near.
Finely put on, indeed!—
Mar.
You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.
Boyet.
But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her now?
Ros.
Shall I come upon thee with an old saying,
-- 350 --
that was a man when king Pepin of France was a
little boy, as touching the hit it?
Biron.
So I may answer thee with one as old,
that was a woman when queen Guinever3note
of Britain
was a little wench, as touching the hit it.
Ros.
Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
[Singing.
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
Boyet.
An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can. [Exeunt Ros. and Kath.
Cost.
By my troth, most pleasant! how both did fit it!
Mar.
A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it.
Boyet.
A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, says my lady!
Let the mark have a prick in't4note
, to mete at, if it may be.
Mar.
Wide o' the bow hand5note! I'faith your hand is out.
Cost.
Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout6note.
-- 351 --
Boyet.
An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand is in.
Cost.
Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin* note7note.
Cost.
She's too hard for you at prick, sir; challenge her to bowl.
Boyet.
I fear too much rubbing9note; Good night, my good owl. [Ex. Boyet and Maria.
Cost.
By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown!
Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!
O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit!
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit.
Armatho o' the one side,—O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan1note!
To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will swear2note!—
-- 352 --
And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
Sola, sola!
[Shouting within.[Exit Costard, running.
SCENE II.The Same.Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.
Nath.
Very reverent sport, truly; and done in
the testimony of a good conscience.
Hol.
The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,—
blood3note
; ripe as a pomewater4note
, who now hangeth
like a jewel in the ear of cœlo5note,—the sky, the
-- 353 --
welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab,
on the face of terra,—the soil, the land, the earth.
Nath.
Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are
sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir,
I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head6note
.
Hol.
Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.
Dull.
'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket.
Hol.
Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of
insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication;
facere, as it were, replication, or, rather,
ostentare, to show, as it were, his inclination,—after
his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned,
untrained, or rather unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed
fashion,—to insert again my haud credofor a deer.
Dull.
I said, the deer was not a haud credo;
'twas a pricket.
Hol.
Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus!—O thou
monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!
Nath.
Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties
that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as
-- 354 --
it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not
replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in
the duller parts;
And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be
(Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts that do fructify in us more than he7note
.
For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool,
So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school8note
:
-- 355 --
But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind,
Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.
Dull.
You two are book-men: Can you tell by your wit,
What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?
Hol.
The moon was a month old when Adam was no more;
And raught not1note
to five weeks, when he came to fivescore.
The allusion holds in the exchange2note.
Dull.
'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in
the exchange.
Hol.
God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion
holds in the exchange.
Dull.
And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange;
for the moon is never but a month old:
and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess
kill'd.
-- 356 --
Hol.
Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal
epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour
the ignorant, I have3note call'd the deer the princess
kill'd, a pricket.
Nath.
Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so
it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.
pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket;
Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting.
The dogs did yell; put I to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket;
Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a hooting.
If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; O sore L6note
!
Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one more L.
This is a gift that I have, simple, simple;
a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures,
shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions:
these are begot in the ventricle of memory,
nourished in the womb of pia mater9note * note; and
deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the
gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am
thankful for it.
Nath.
Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so
may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd
by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under
you: you are a good member of the common-wealth.
Hol.
Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they
shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable1note
,
I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui
pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us.
Ruminat,—and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan!
I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice:
—Vinegia, Vinegia, Chi non te vede, et non te pregia4note
.
-- 360 --
Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth
thee not, loves thee not.—Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa5note.—
Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or, rather,
as Horace says in his—What, my soul, verses?
Nath.
Ay, sir, and very learned.
Hol.
Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse;
Lege, domine.
Nath.
If love make me forsworn6note, how shall I swear to love?
Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed!
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove;
Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.
-- 361 --
Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes;
Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:
If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend;
All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder;
(Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;)
Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet fire7note
.
Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong,
That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue!
Hol.
You find not the apostrophes, and so miss
the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here
are only numbers ratified8note
; but, for the elegancy,
-- 362 --
facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius
Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso;
but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy,
the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so
doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the
tired horse9note
his rider. But damosella virgin, was
this directed to you?
Jaq.
Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron1note, one of
the strange queen's lords.
-- 363 --
Hol.
I will overglance the superscript. To the
snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline.
I will look again on the intellect of the letter,
for the nomination of the party writing2note to the person
written unto:
Your Ladyship's in all desired employment, Biron.
Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with
the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a
sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally,
or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.—
Trip and go, my sweet3note
; deliver this paper into
the royal hand of the king; it may concern much:
Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu.
Jaq.
Good Costard, go with me.—Sir, God save
your life!
Cost.
Have with thee, my girl.
[Exeunt Cost. and Jaq.
Nath.
Sir, you have done this in the fear of God,
very religiously; and, as a certain father saith—
Hol.
Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable
colours4note. But, to return to the verses;
Did they please you, sir Nathaniel?
Nath.
Marvellous well for the pen.
Hol.
I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain
-- 364 --
pupil of mine; where if, before repast5note, it shall
please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will,
on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid
child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto;
where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned,
neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I
beseech your society.
Nath.
And thank you too: for society, (saith
the text,) is the happiness of life.
, the text most infallibly concludes
it.—Sir, [To Dull,] I do invite you too;
you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away;
the gentles are at their game, and we will to our
recreation.
[Exeunt.SCENE III.Another part of the Same.Enter Biron, with a paper.
Biron.
The king he is hunting the deer; I am
coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am
toiling in a pitch7note; pitch that defiles; defile! a
foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so,
they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool.
Well proved wit! By the lord, this love is as mad
as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me8note, I a sheep:
-- 365 --
Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if
I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye,
—by this light, but for her eye, I would not love
her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in
the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven,
I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to
be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and
here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my
sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it,
and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool,
sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a
pin if the other three were in: Here comes one with
a paper; God give him grace to groan!
[Gets up into a tree.Enter the King, with a paper.
King.
Ah me!
Biron. [Aside.]
Shot, by heaven!—Proceed,
sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy birdbolt
under the left pap:—I'faith secrets.—
King. [Reads.]
So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows9note:
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright,
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears1note
of mine give light;
Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
-- 366 --
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee,
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe;
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my grief will show:
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel!
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.—
How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper;
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
[Steps aside.Enter Longaville, with a paper.
What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
Biron.
Now, in thy likeness, one more fool, appear! [Aside.
King.
In love, I hope3note; Sweet fellowship in shame! [Aside.
Biron.
One drunkard loves another of the name. [Aside.
Long.
Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?
Biron. [Aside.]
I could put thee in comfort; not by two, that I know:
-- 367 --
Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,
The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.
Long.
I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to move:
O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
Biron. [Aside.]
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose:
Disfigure not his slop4note
.
Long.
This same shall go.—
[He reads the sonnet.
Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye
('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,)
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but, I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
-- 368 --
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
If by me broke, What fool is not so wise,
To lose an oath to win a paradise5note?
, which makes flesh a deity;
A green goose, a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the way. Enter Dumain, with a paper.
Long.
By whom shall I send this?—Company! stay. [Stepping aside.
Biron. [Aside.]
All hid, all hid7note, an old infant play:
Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye.
More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish;
Dumain transform'd: four woodcocks in a dish8note!
Dum.
O most divine Kate!
Biron.
O most prophane coxcomb! [Aside.
-- 369 --
Dum.
By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye!
Biron.
By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie9note
. [Aside.
Dum.
Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted1note
.
Biron.
An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. [Aside.
-- 370 --
Dum.
As upright as the cedar.
Biron.
Stoop, I say;
Her shoulder is with child. [Aside.
Dum.
As fair as day.
Biron.
Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine. [Aside.
Biron.
Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word? [Aside.
Dum.
I would forget her; but a fever she
Reigns in my blood2note
, and will remember'd be.
Biron.
A fever in your blood, why, then incision
Would let her out in saucers3note
; Sweet misprision! [Aside.
-- 371 --
Dum.
Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.
Biron.
Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. [Aside.
Dum.
On a day, (alack the day!)
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find4note;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so5note
!
But alack, my hand is sworn6note
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee:
Thou for whom even Jove would swear8note
,
Juno but an Ethiop were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.—
This will I send; and something else more plain,
That shall express my true love's fasting pain9note.
O, would the King, Birón, and Longaville,
Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note;
For none offend, where all alike do dote.
Long.
Dumain, [advancing,] thy love is far from charity,
That in love's grief desir'st society:
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o'erheard, and taken napping so.
King.
Come, sir, [advancing,] you blush; as his your case is such;
You chide at him, offending twice as much:
-- 373 --
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom, to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion;
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs1note were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
You would for paradise break faith and troth;
[To Long.
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To Dumain.
What will Birón say, when that he shall hear
Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear2note
?
How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
Biron.
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.—
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me:
[Descends from the tree.
-- 374 --
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
These worms for loving3note
, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches4note
; in your tears,
There is no certain princess that appears:
You'll not be perjur'd, 'tis a hateful thing;
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?
You found his mote* note; the king your mote* note did see;
But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of foolery I have seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen5note
!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat6note
!
-- 375 --
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tune* note a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with theb oys,
And critick Timon7note
laugh at idle toys!
-- 376 --
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumain?
And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege's? all about the breast:—
A caudle* note, ho!
King.
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
Biron.
Not you by me, but I betray'd to you;
I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in;
I am betray'd, by keeping company
With moon-like men, of strange inconstancy8note
.
-- 377 --
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
In pruning me9note
? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state1note
, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb?—
King.
Soft; Whither away so fast?
A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
Biron.
I post from love; good lover, let me go. Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.
Jaq.
God bless the king!
King.
What present hast thou there?
Cost.
Some certain treason.
King.
What makes treason here?
-- 378 --
Cost.
Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
King.
If it mar nothing neither,
The treason, and you, go in peace away together.
Jaq.
I beseech your grace, let this letter be read;
Our parson2note misdoubts it; 'twas* note treason, he said.
King.
Biron, read it over.
[Giving him the letter.
Where had'st thou it?
Jaq.
Of Costard.
King.
Where had'st thou it?
Cost.
Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
King.
How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it?
Biron.
A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs not fear it.
Long.
It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it.
Dum.
It is Birón's writing, and here is his name. [Picks up the pieces.
Biron.
Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [To Costard,] you were born to do me shame.—
Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess.
King.
What?
Biron.
That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess:
He, he, and you, my liege, and I† note,
Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
Dum.
Now the number is even.
Biron.
True, true; we are four:—
-- 379 --
Will these turtles be gone?
King.
Hence, sirs; away.
Cost.
Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Costard and Jaquenetta.
Biron.
Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us embrace!
As true we are, as flesh and blood can be:
The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face* note;
Young blood doth not obey an old decree:
We cannot cross the cause why we were† note born;
Therefore, of all hands must we be forsworn.
King.
What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
Biron.
Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline,
That, like a rude and savage man of Inde,
At the first opening of the gorgeous east3note
,
Bows not his vassal head; and, strucken blind,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory eagle-sighted eye
Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
That is not blinded by her majesty?
King.
What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee now?
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
She, an attending star4note
Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty
Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek;
Where several worthies make one dignity;
Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,—
Fye, painted rhetorick! O, she needs it not:
To things of sale a seller's praise belongs6note
;
She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot.
A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,
And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
O, 'tis the sun, that maketh all things shine!
King.
By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
Biron.
Is ebony like her? O wood divine7note
!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
-- 381 --
O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:
No face is fair, that is not full so black8note
.
King.
O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night9note
;
And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well1note
.
Biron.
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
-- 382 --
O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair2note,
Should ravish doters with a false aspéct;
And therefore is she 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 dispraise,
Paints itself black, to imitate her brow.
Dum.
To look like her, are chimney-sweepers black.
Long.
And, since 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 mistresses dare never come in rain,
For fear their colours should be wash'd away.
King.
'Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day.
-- 383 --
Biron.
I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day here.
King.
No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
Dum.
I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
Long.
Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see. [Showing his shoe.
Biron.
O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread!
Dum.
O vile! then as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walk'd over head.
King.
But what of this? Are we not all in love?
Biron.
O, nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.
King.
Then leave this chat; and, good Birón, now prove
Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
Dum.
Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil.
Long.
O, some authority how to proceed;
Some tricks, some quillets3note, how to cheat the devil.
Dum.
Some salve for perjury.
Biron.
O, tis more then need!—
Have at you then, affection's men at arms4note:
Consider, what you first did swear unto;—
-- 384 --
To fast,—to study,—and to see no woman;—
Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young;
And abstinence engenders maladies.
And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you hath forsworn5note his book:
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive?
They are the ground, the books, the academes,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, universal plodding prisons up6note
The nimble spirits in the arteries7note;
As motion, and long-during action, tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forsworn the use of eyes;
And study too, the causer of your vow:
For where is any author in the world,
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye8note?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
-- 385 --
Then, when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
With ourselves9note,
Do we not likewise see our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forsworn our books1note;
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such firy numbers2note
, as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous tutors3note have enrich'd you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain4note;
And therefore finding barren practisers,
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil:
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye;
-- 386 --
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind;
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd5note
;
Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible,
Than are the tender horns of cockled6note snails;
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
For valour, is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides7note
?
-- 387 --
Subtle as sphinx; as sweet, and musical,
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair8note
;
And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony9note
.
-- 388 --
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs;
-- 389 --
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
:
They sparkle till the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world;
Else, none at all in aught proves excellent:
Then fools you were these women to forswear;
Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love;
Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men2note
;
-- 391 --
Or for men's sake, the authors3note of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men;
Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion to be thus forsworn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;
And who can sever love from charity?
King.
Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!
Biron.
Advance your standards, and upon them, lords4note
;
Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd,
In conflict that you get the sun of them5note
.
-- 392 --
Long.
Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
King.
And win them too: therefore let us devise
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 mistress: in the afternoon
We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Fore-run fair Love6note
, strewing her way with flowers.
King.
Away, away! no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.
Biron. Allons! allons!—Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn7note
;
And justice always whirls in equal measure:
Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
If so, our copper buys no better treasure8note. [Exeunt.
-- 393 --
ACT V.SCENE I.Another part of the Same.Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.
I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at
dinner have been1note
sharp and sententious; pleasant
without scurrility, witty without affection2note, audacious
without impudency, learned without opinion,
and strange without heresy. I did converse this
quondam day with a companion of the king's, who
is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de
Armado.
-- 394 --
Hol.
Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is
lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed3note,
his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general
behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical4note
, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as
it were, too perigrinate, as I may call it.
-- 395 --
Nath.
A most singular and choice epithet.
[Takes out his table-book.
Hol.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity
finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such
fanatical phantasms6note
, such insociable and point-devise7note companions; such rackers of orthography,
as to speak, dout, fine, when he should say, doubt;
det, when he should 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 abhominable8note
, (which he would call
abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie9note
; Ne intelligis
domini? to make frantick, lunatick.
-- 396 --
Nath.
Laus Deo, bone intelligo.
Hol.
Bone?—bone, for benè: Priscian a little
scratch'd; 'twill serve.
Enter Armado, Moth, and Costard.
Nath.
Videsne quis venit?
Hol.
Video, & gaudeo.
Arm.
Chirra!
[To Moth.
Hol.
Quare Chirra, not sirrah?
Arm.
Men of peace, well encounter'd.
Hol.
Most military sir, salutation.
-- 397 --
Moth.
They have been at a great feast of languages,
and stolen the scraps1note.
[To Costard aside.
Cost.
O, they have lived long in the alms-basket
of words2note
! I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee
for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as
honorificabilitudinitatibus3note
: thou art easier swallowed
than a flap-dragon4note.
Moth.
Peace; the peal begins.
Arm.
Monsieur, [To Hol.] are you not letter'd?
Moth.
Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book:—
What is a, b, spelt backward with the horn on his
head?
Hol.
Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.
-- 398 --
Moth.
Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn:—You
hear his learning.
Hol.
Quis, quis, thou consonant?
Moth.
The third of the five vowels, if you repeat
them; or the fifth, if I.
Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum,
a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit6note
; snip,
-- 399 --
snap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect:
true wit.
Moth.
Offer'd by a child to an old man; which
is wit-old.
Hol.
What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth.
Horns.
Hol.
Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy
gig.
Moth.
Lend me your horn to make one, and I
will whip about your infamy circùm circà7note
; A gig
of a cuckold's horn!
Cost.
An I had but one penny in the world, thou
shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is
the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou
half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion.
O, an the heavens were so pleased, that thou
wert but my bastard! what a joyful father wouldst
thou make me! Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at
the fingers' ends, as they say.
Hol.
O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.
Arm.
Arts-man, præambula* note; we will be singled
from the barbarous. Do you not educate
youth at the charge-house8note on the top of the mountain?
Hol.
Or, mons, the hill.
-- 400 --
Arm.
At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
Hol.
I do, sans question.
Arm.
Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and
affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion,
in the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude
call, the afternoon.
Hol.
The posterior of the day, most generous sir,
is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon:
the word is well cull'd, chose; sweet and
apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.
Arm.
Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and
my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend:—
For what is inward9note
between us, let it pass:—I do
beseech thee, remember thy courtesy;—I beseech
thee, apparel thy head1note
;—and among other importunate
-- 401 --
and most serious designs,—and of great
import indeed, too;—but let that pass:—for I must
tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world)
sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder; and with
his royal finger, thus, dally with my excrement2note,
with my mustachio: but sweet heart, let that pass.
By the world, I recount no fable; some certain
special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart
to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath
seen the world: but let that pass.—The very all of
all is,—but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy,—
that the king would have me present the princess,
sweet chuck3note
, with some delightful ostentation, or
show, or pageant, or antick, or fire-work. Now,
understanding that the curate and your sweet self,
are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking
out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you
withal, to the end to crave your assistance.
Hol.
Sir, you shall present before her the nine
worthies.—Sir Nathaniel* note, as concerning some
entertainment of time, some show in the posterior
-- 402 --
of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,—the
king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate,
and learned gentleman,—before the princess; I
say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies.
Nath.
Where will you find men worthy enough
to present them?
Hol.
Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant
gentleman4note
, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because
of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the
great; the page, Hercules.
Arm.
Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity
enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big
as the end of his club.
Hol.
Shall I have audience? he shall present
Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be
strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for
that purpose.
Moth.
An excellent device! so, if any of the
audience hiss, you may cry: well done, Hercules!
now thou crushest the snake! that is the way to
make an offence gracious5note; though few have the
grace to do it.
Via7note, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no
word all this while.
Dull.
Nor understood none neither, sir.
Hol.
Allons! we will employ thee.
Dull.
I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will
play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance
the hay.
Hol.
Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away.
[Exeunt.SCENE II.Another part of the Same. Before the Princess's Pavilion.Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and Maria.
Prin.
Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in:
A lady wall'd about with diamonds!—
Look you, what I have from the loving king.
Ros.
Madam, came nothing else along with that?
Prin.
Nothing but this? yes, as much love in rhyme,
As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all;
-- 404 --
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
Ros.
That was the way to make his god-head wax8note
;
For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
Kath.
Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Ros.
You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd your sister.
Kath.
He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
And so she died: had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might have been a grandam ere she died:
And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
Ros.
What's your dark meaning, mouse9note
, of this light word?
Kath.
A light condition in a beauty dark.
Ros.
We need more light to find your meaning out.
Kath.
You'll mar the light, by taking it in snuff1note;
Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument.
Ros.
Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark.
Kath.
So do not you; for you are a light wench.
-- 405 --
Ros.
Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.
Kath.
You weigh me not,—O, that's you care not for me.
Ros.
Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care2note
well play'd.
But Rosaline, you have a favour too:
Who sent it? and what is it?
Ros.
I would, you knew:
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Birón:
The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
! How? let me not die your debtor,
My red dominical, my golden letter:
-- 406 --
O, that your face were not* note so full of O's5note!
Kath.
A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows6note
!
Prin.
But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain7note
?
Kath.
Madam, this glove.
Prin.
Did he not send you twain?
Kath.
Yes, madam; and moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:
A huge translation of hypocrisy.
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
Mar.
This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville;
The letter is too long by half a mile.
-- 407 --
Prin.
I think no less: Dost thou not wish in heart,
The chain were longer, and the letter short?
Mar.
Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
Prin.
We are wise girls, to mock our lovers so.
Ros.
They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Birón I'll torture ere I go.
O, that I knew he were but in by the week8note
!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek;
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes;
And shape his service wholly to my behests9note
;
And make him proud to make me proud that jests1note
would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.
-- 408 --
Prin.
None are so3note surely caught, when they are catch'd,
As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
Ros.
The blood of youth burns not with such excess,
As gravity's revolt to wantonness4note.
Mar.
Folly in fools bears not so strong a note,
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
-- 409 --
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
Enter Boyet.
Prin.
Here comes Boyet, and mirth is* note in his face.
Boyet.
O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?
Prin.
Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.
Prepare, madam, prepare!—
Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
! What are they,
That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
Boyet.
Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour:
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
-- 410 --
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Presence majestical would put him out;
For, quoth the king, an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.
The boy reply'd, An angel is not evil;
I should have fear'd 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 ridiculous6note
appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears7note
.
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 guess8note
,
-- 411 --
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance:
And every one his love-feat 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 Birón take me for Rosaline.—
And change you* note 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 mocking merriment;
And mock for mock is only my intent.
-- 412 --
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 face9note.
Boyet.
Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's* note 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 in1note, 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 come. [The ladies mask.Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain,
in Russian habits, and masked; Moth, Musicians,
and Attendants.
Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!
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. Once to behold, rogue. Moth.
Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,
—with your sun-beamed eyes—
Boyet.
They will not answer to that epithet;
You were best call it, daughter-beamed eyes.
Moth.
They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
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.
-- 414 --
King.
Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure3note
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,
-- 415 --
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 stars4note, to shine
(Those clouds remov'd,) upon our watry eyne.
Ros.
O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
Thou now request'st* note but moonshine in the water.
King.
Then, in our measure vouchsafe but† note one change:
Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange
Ros.
Play, musick, then: nay, you must do it soon.
[Musick plays.
Not yet;—no dance:—thus change I like the moon.
King.
Will you not dance? How come you thus estrang'd?
Ros.
You took the moon at full; but now she's chang'd.
King.
Yet still she is the moon, and I the man5note
.
-- 416 --
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 hearts6note
; 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* note 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 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 cog7note, I'll play no more with you.
-- 417 --
Biron.
One word in secret.
Prin.
Let it not be sweet.
Biron.
Thou griev'st my gall.
Prin.
Gall? bitter.
Biron.
Therefore meet. [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.
Dum.
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
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, swifter things9note.
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, Musick, 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 wits1note they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
Prin.
O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
-- 419 --
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 all2note 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 I3note
; my servant straight was mute.
Kath.
Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;
And trow you, what he call'd me?
Prin.
Qualm, perhaps.
Kath.
Yes, in good faith.
Prin.
Go, sickness as thou art!
Ros.
Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps4note
.
-- 420 --
But you will hear? the king is my love sworn.
Prin.
And quick Birón hath plighted faith to me.
Kath.
And Longaville was for my service born.
Mar.
Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
-- 421 --
Boyet.
Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Prin.
Will they return?
Boyet.
They will, they will, God knows;
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:
Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
Prin.
How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.
Boyet.
Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud:
Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown5note
.
-- 422 --
Prin.
Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do,
If they return in their own shapes to woo?
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 gear6note;
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 Princess7note, Ros. Kath. and Maria.
-- 423 --
Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, 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* note?
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 peas8note
;
And utters it again when Jove doth please:
He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares
At wakes, and wassels9note
, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
-- 424 --
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve:
He can carve too, and lisp1note
: Why, this is he,
That kiss'd away his hand 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 meanly2note
; 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 bone3note
:
-- 425 --
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, usher'd by Boyet; Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, and Attendants.
Biron.
See where it comes!—Behaviour, what wert thou,
Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now4note
?
-- 426 --
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 came 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* note in perjur'd men.
King.
Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;
The virtue of your eye must break my oath5note.
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:
-- 427 --
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 the days,)
In courtesy, gives undeserving praise6note
.
We four, indeed, confronted here 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.—My gentle sweet7note
,
Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet8note
-- 428 --
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.
Ros.
This proves you wise and rich; for in my 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! Why look you pale?—
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
-- 429 --
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;
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 friend9note
;
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song:
Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-pil'd hyperboles1note
, spruce affection2note
,
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:
-- 430 --
And, to begin, wench,—so God help me, la!—
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
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 us4note
, 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.
-- 431 --
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 sue5note
?
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 transgression
Some fair excuse.
Prin.
The fairest is confession.
Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?
Prin.
When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
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 forswear7note
.
-- 432 --
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 Birón, I thank him, is my dear:—
What; will you have me, or your pearl again?
Biron.
Neither of either8note; I remit both twain.—
I see the trick on't;—Here was a consent9note
,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment,)
To dash it like a Christmas comedy:
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany1note
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 forsworn; in will, and error.
Much upon this it is* note:—And might not you4note
,
[To Boyet.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
,
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'd6note
;
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.
Boyet.
Full merrily
Hath this brave manage7note, this career, been run.
Biron.
Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done.
Enter Costard.
Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.
Cost.
O Lord, sir, they would know,
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no.
Biron.
What, are there but three?
Cost.
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
For every one pursents three.
Biron.
And three times thrice is nine.
-- 436 --
Cost.
Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope, it is not so:
You cannot beg us8note
, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know:
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,—
Biron.
Is not nine.
Cost.
Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil
it doth amount.
Biron.
By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
Cost.
O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get
your living by reckoning, sir.
Biron.
How much is it?
Cost.
O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the
actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for
my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one
man,—e'en one poor man9note; 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
-- 437 --
the degree of the worthy; but I am to stand for
him1note.
Biron.
Go, bid them prepare.
Cost.
We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care.
[Exit Costard.
King.
Birón, 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* note 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 mirth2note
;
When great things labouring perish in their birth3note
.
-- 438 --
Biron.
A right description of our sport, my lord. Enter Armado4note.
Arm.
Anointed, I implore so much expence of
-- 439 --
thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of
words.
[Armado converses with the King, and delivers him a paper.]
Prin.
Doth this man serve God?
Biron.
Why ask you?
Prin.
He 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 couplement5note
!
[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 Machabæus.
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.
-- 443 --
Biron.
My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves
the best worthy.
Enter Nathaniel arm'd, 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 right2note.
Biron.
Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender-smelling 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 poll-ax sitting on a close-stool3note
and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander.
[Nath. retires.] There, an't shall please you; a
foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and
soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour,
insooth* note; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander,
alas, you see, how 'tis;—a little o'erparted5note:—
But there are worthies a coming will speak their
mind in some other sort.
Prin.
Stand aside, good Pompey.
Enter Holofernes arm'd, for Judas, and Moth arm'd, for Hercules.
Hol.
Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus;
And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus:
-- 445 --
Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;
Ergo, I come with this apology.—
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
[Exit Moth.
Hol. Judas I am,—
Dum.
A Judas!
Hol.
Not Iscariot, sir.—
Judas I am, ycleped Machabæus.
Dum.
Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron.
A kissing traitor:—How art thou prov'd Judas?
Hol. Judas I am,—
Dum.
The more shame for you, Judas.
Hol.
What mean you, sir?
Boyet.
To make Judas hang himself.
Hol.
Begin, sir; you are my elder.
Biron.
Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on an elder.
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea3note
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower,—
Dum.
That mint.
Long.
That columbine.
Arm.
Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
Long.
I must rather give it the rein; for it runs
against Hector.
Dum.
Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
Arm.
The sweet war-man is dead and rotten;
sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried:
when he breath'd, he was a man* note—But I will forward
with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the Princess,]bestow on me the sense of hearing.
[Biron whispers Costard.
Prin.
Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
Arm.
I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Boyet.
Loves her by the foot.
Dum.
He may not by the yard.
Arm.
This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,—
Cost.
The party is gone4note, fellow Hector, she is
gone; she is two months on her way.
Arm.
What meanest thou?
Cost.
Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan,
-- 449 --
the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child
brags in her belly already; 'tis yours.
Arm.
Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.
Cost.
Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta
that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey
that is dead by him.
Dum.
Most rare Pompey!
Boyet.
Renowned Pompey!
Biron.
Greater than great, great, great, great
Pompey! Pompey the huge!
Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's
belly than will sup a flea.
Arm.
By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
Cost.
I will not fight with a pole, like a northern
man5note
; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword:—I pray
you, let me borrow my arms6note again.
Dum.
Room for the incensed worthies.
Cost.
I'll do it in my shirt.
Dum.
Most resolute Pompey!
Moth.
Master, let me take you a button-hole
lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the
combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation.
-- 450 --
Arm.
Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me; I
will not combat in my shirt.
Dum.
You may not deny it; Pompey hath made
the challenge.
Arm.
Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Biron.
What reason have you for't?
Arm.
The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt;
I go woolward for penance.
Boyet.
True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome
for want of linen7note
: since when, I'll be sworn, he
-- 451 --
wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and
that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour.
-- 452 --
Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Mercade.
Mer.
God save you, madam!
Prin.
Welcome, Mercade;
But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
Mer.
I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring,
Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father—
Prin.
Dead, for my life.
Mer.
Even so; my tale is told.
Biron.
Worthies, away; the scene begins to
cloud.
Arm.
For mine own part, I breathe free breath:
I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole
of discretion8note
, and I will right myself like a soldier.
[Exeunt Worthies.
King.
How fares your majesty?
-- 453 --
Prin.
Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.
King.
Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.
Prin.
Prepare, I say.—I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide,
The liberal9note
opposition of our spirits:
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath1note
, your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord!
A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue2note
:
Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks
-- 454 --
For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
King.
The extreme parts of time extremely form* note
All causes to the purpose of his speed;
And often, at his very loose, decides3note
That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,
The holy suit which fain it would convince4note
;
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost,
Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
Prin.
I understand you not; my griefs are double5note.
best pierce the ear of grief;—
And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,—
As love is full of unbefitting strains;
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms7note
,
-- 456 --
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us8note
to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both,—fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.
Prin.
We have receiv'd your letters full of love:
Your favours, the embassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time9note
:
-- 457 --
But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Dum.
Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
King.
Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
Prin.
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in2note
:
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore this,—
If for my love (as there is no such cause)
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay, until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning:
If this austere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds3note,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love4note;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
-- 459 --
Come challenge, challenge me5note by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.
King.
If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest6note
,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.
Biron.
And what to me, my love? and what to me?
Ros.
You must be purged too, your sins are rank7note
;
You are attaint with faults and perjury;
Therefore, if you my favour mean to get,
A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
Kath.
A wife!—A beard, fair health, and honesty;
With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum.
O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?
Kath.
Not so, my lord;—a twelvemonth and a day
I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say:
Come when the king doth to my lady come,
Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
Dum.
I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
Kath.
Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again.
Long.
What says Maria?
Mar.
At the twelvemonth's end,
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
Long.
I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
Mar.
The liker you; few taller are so young.
Biron.
Studies my lady? mistress look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
-- 461 --
What humble suit attends thy answer there;
Impose some service on me for thy love.
Ros.
Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,
Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts;
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercy of your wit:
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain;
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won,)
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour9note
of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron.
To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros.
Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans1note
,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you, and that fault withal;
-- 462 --
But, if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.
Biron.
A twelvemonth? well, befal what will befal,
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital2note.
Prin.
Ay, sweet, my lord; and so I take my leave. [To the King.
King.
No, madam: we will bring you on your way.
Biron.
Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.
King.
Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
And then 'twill end.
Biron.
That's too long for a play. Enter Armado.
Arm.
Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,—
Prin.
Was not that Hector?
Dum.
The worthy knight of Troy.
Arm.
I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave:
I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold
the plough for her sweet love three years. But,
most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue
that the two learned men have compiled, in praise
of the owl and the cuckoo? it should have followed
in the end of our show.
-- 463 --
King.
Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Arm.
Holla! approach.
Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Moth, Costard, and others.
This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring;
the one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the
cuckoo. Ver, begin.
SONG.Spring.
[I.]
When daisies pied3note, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds4note
of yellow hue,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
-- 464 --
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo,—O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
II.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo,—O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
