Dumain.
King.
Let Fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live registred upon our brazen tombs;
And then grace us in the disgrace of death:
When, spight 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 edict shall strongly stand in force.
Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
Our Court shall be a little academy,
Still and contemplative in living arts.
You three, Biron, 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:
-- 112 --
That his own hand may strike his honour down,
That violates the smallest branch herein:
If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep them too.
Long.
I am resolv'd; 'tis but a three years fast:
The mind shall banquet tho' the body pine;
Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits.
Dum.
My loving lord, Dumain is mortify'd:
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 philosophy.1 note
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 sleep.
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.
-- 113 --
Long.
You swore to that, Biron, 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 recompence.
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 expresly am forbid;2 note
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.
If study's gain be this, and this be so,
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 while3 note
Doth falsly blind the eye-sight of his look:
Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile;
-- 114 --
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,4 note
And give him light, that it was blinded by.
Study is like the Heav'ns glorious Sun,
That will not be deep search'd with sawcy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.
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.
5 note
Too much to know, is to know nought: but fame;
And every godfather can give a name.”
-- 115 --
King.
How well he's read, to reason against reading!
Dum.
Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding.6 note
Long.
He weeds the corn, and still let's 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 rhime.
Long.
Biron is like an envious sneaping frost,
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?7 note
-- 116 --
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 grows.
So you, to study now it is too late,
That were to climb o'er th' house t'unlock the gate.
King.
Well, sit you out—Go home, Biron: Adieu!
Biron.
No, my good lord, I've 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,
And 'bide the penance of each three years' day.
Give me the paper, let me read the same;
And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name.
King.
How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!
Biron.
Item, That no woman shall come within a
mile of my Court.
[reading.
Hath this been proclaimed?
Long.
Four days ago.
Biron.
Let's see the penalty.
On pain of losing her tongue:—
[reading.
Who devis'd this penalty?
Long.
Marry, that did I.
Biron.
Sweet lord, and why?
Long.
To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
Biron.
A dangerous law against gentility!8 note
-- 117 --
Item, [reading.] 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 possibly
devise.
This article, my liege, your self must break;
For, well you know, here comes in embassy
The French King's daughter with your self to speak,
A maid of grace and compleat majesty,
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 lye here 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 grace.9 note
-- 118 --
If I break faith, this word shall speak for me:
I am forsworn on meer necessity.—
So to the laws at large I write my name,
And he, that breaks them in the least degree,
Stands in Attainder of eternal shame.
Suggestions1 note 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 recreation2 note 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 the musick of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish, like inchanting harmony:
3 note
A man of complements, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny.
-- 119 --
This child of fancy, that Armado hight6Q0052,
For interim to our Studies, shall relate
In high-born words the worth of many a Knight
4 noteFrom tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate.5 note
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 minstrelsie.
Biron.
Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire-new words, fashion's own Knight.
-- 120 --
Long.
Costard the swain, and he, shall be our sport;
And, so to study, three years are but short.
SCENE II.
Enter Dull and Costard with a letter.
Dull.
Which is the King's own person?6 note
Biron.
This, fellow; what would'st?
Dull.
I my self reprehend his own person, for I am
his Grace's Tharborough: but I would see his own
person in flesh and blood.
Biron.
This is he.
Dull.
Signior Arme,—Arme—commends you.
There's villainy abroad; this letter will tell you more.
Cost.
Sir, the Contempts thereof are as touching me.
King.
A letter from the magnificent Armado.
Biron.
How low soever the matter, I hope in God
for high words.
Long.
A high hope for a low having;7 note
God grant
us patience!
Biron.
To hear, or forbear hearing?
Long.
To hear meekly, Sir, to laugh moderately,
or to forbear both.
Biron.
Well, Sir, be it as the Stile shall give us
cause to climb in the merriness.
-- 121 --
Cost.
The matter is to me, Sir, as concerning Jaquenetta.
The manner of it is, I was taken in the manner.8 note
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.
Biron.
For the following, Sir?
Cost.
As it shall follow in my correction; and God
defend the right!
King.
Will you hear the 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 fostring 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, so.
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
-- 122 --
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
call'd supper: so much for the time, when. Now for
the ground, which: which, I mean, I walkt 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-colour'd ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest,
surveyest, or seest. But to the place, where;
It standeth north-north-east and by east from the west
corner of thy curious-knotted garden. There did I see
that low-spirited swain, that base minow of thy mirth,9 note
(Cost.
Me?)
that unletter'd small-knowing soul,
(Cost.
Me?)
that shallow vassal,
(Cost.
Still me?)
which,
as I remember, hight Costard;
(Cost.
O me!)
sorted
and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict
and continent canon, with, with—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 understanding, a woman; him,
I (as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) have sent to
thee, to receive the need of punishment, by thy sweet
Grace's Officer, Anthony Dull, a man of good repute,
carriage, bearing an estimation.
Dull.
Me, an't shall please you: I am Anthony Dull.
King.
For Jaquenetta, (so is the weaker vessel call'd)
which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain, I keep
her as a vassal of thy law's fury, and shall at the least
of thy sweet notice bring her to trial. Thine in all compliments
of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty.
Don Adriano de Armado.
Biron.
This is not so well as I look'd for, but the
best that ever I heard.
-- 123 --
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 it.
King.
It was proclaim'd a year's imprisonment to
be taken with a wench.
Cost.
I was taken with none, Sir, I was taken with
a damosel.
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 proclaim'd
virgin.
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 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 Biron, see him deliver'd o'er.
And go we, lords, to put in practice that,
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
[Exeunt.
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 until then, sit
thee down, sorrow.
[Exeunt.
-- 124 --
SCENE III.
Changes to 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 imp.1 note
Moth.
No, no; O lord, Sir, no.
Arm.
How can'st thou part sadness and melancholy,
my tender Juvenile?
Moth.
By a familiar demonstration of the working,
my tough Signior.
Arm.
Why, tough Signior? why, tough Signior?
Moth.
Why, tender Juvenile? why, tender Juvenile?
Arm.
I spoke it, tender Juvenile, as a congruent
epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we
may nominate tender.
Moth.
And I tough Signior, as an appertinent title
to your old time, which we may name tough.
Arm.
Pretty and apt.
Moth.
How mean you, Sir, I pretty, and my saying
apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty?
Arm.
Thou pretty, because little.
Moth.
Little! pretty, because little; wherefore apt?
Arm.
And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth.
Speak you this in my praise, master?
Arm.
In thy condign praise.
-- 125 --
Moth.
I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Arm.
What? that an eel is ingenious.
Moth.
That an eel is quick.
Arm.
I do say, thou art quick in answers. Thou
heat'st my blood—
Moth.
I am answer'd, Sir.
Arm.
I love not to be crost.
Moth.
He speaks the clean contrary, crosses love not
him.2 note
Arm.
I have promis'd to study three years with the
King.
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 fits the spirit of a
tapster.
Moth.
You are a gentleman and a gamester.
Arm.
I confess both; they are both the varnish of
a compleat man.
Moth.
Then, I am sure, you know how much the
gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.
Arm.
It doth amount to one more than two.
Moth.
Which the base vulgar call, three.
Arm.
True.
Moth.
Why, Sir, is this such a piece of study? now
here's 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
you.6Q0053
Arm.
A most fine figure.
Moth.
To prove you a cypher.
Arm.
I will hereupon confess, I am in love; and,
as it is base for a soldier to love, so I am in love with
a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
-- 126 --
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 devis'd
curt'sy. I think it scorn to sigh; methinks, I should
out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy; what great men
have been in love?
Moth.
Hercules, master.
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 town-gates
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 didst
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.
Arm.
Tell me precisely of what complexion?
Moth.
Of the sea-water green, Sir.
Arm.
Is that one of the four complexions?
Moth.
As I have read, Sir, and the best of them too.
Arm
Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but
to have a love of that colour, methinks, Sampson had
small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her
wit.
Moth.
It was so, Sir, for she had a green wit.
Arm.
My love is most immaculate white and red.
Moth.
Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd
under such colours.
Arm.
Define, define, well-educated infant.
Moth.
My father's wit, and my mother's tongue,
assist me!
Arm.
Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty and
pathetical!
-- 127 --
Moth.
If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing 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 owe.
A dangerous rhime, master, against the reason of
white and red.
Arm.
Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and
the Beggar?
Moth.
The world was 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.
Arm.
I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that
I may example my digression by some mighty precedent.
Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took
in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves
well—
Moth.
To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than
my master.
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 is past.
SCENE IV.
Enter Costard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid.
Dul.
Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Costard
safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor
no penance; but he must fast three days a-week. For
this damsel, I must keep her at the park, she is allow'd
for the day-woman. Fare you well.
-- 128 --
Arm.
I do betray myself with blushing: maid,—
Jaq.
Man,—
Arm.
I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq.
That's here by.
Arm.
I know, where it is situate.
Jaq.
Lord, how wise you are!
Arm.
I will tell thee wonders.
Jaq.
With that face?
Arm.
I love thee.
Jaq.
So I heard you say.
Arm.
And so farewel.
Jaq.
Fair weather after you!
Dull.
Come, Jaquenetta, away.3 note
[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.
Arm.
Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offence, ere
thou be pardoned.
Cost.
Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do
it on a full stomach.
Arm.
Thou shalt be heavily punish'd.
Cost.
I am more bound to you, than your followers;
for they are but lightly rewarded.
Arm.
Take away this villain, shut him up.
Moth.
Come, you transgressing slave, away.
Cost.
Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will fast, being
loose.
Moth.
No, Sir, that were fast and loose; thou shalt
to prison.
-- 129 --
Cost.
Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation
that I have seen, some shall see—
Moth.
What shall some see?
Cost.
Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they
look upon. 4 noteIt is not for prisoners to be silent in
their words, and therefore I will say nothing; I thank
God, I have as little patience as another man, and
therefore I can be quiet.
[Exeunt Moth and Costard.
Arm.
I do affect 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 falshood, if I love.
And how can that be true love, which is falsly 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 wit. Cupid's butshaft
is too hard for Hercules's club, and therefore too
much odds for a Spaniard's rapier; the first and second
cause will not serve my turn;5 note the Passado he respects
not, the Duello he regards not; his disgrace is to be
call'd boy; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu,
valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager
is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal
God of rhime, for, I am sure, I shall turn
sonneteer. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole
volumes in folio.
[Exit.
-- 130 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
