Boyet.
Now, Madam, summon up your dearest spirits;
Consider, whom 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 praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.* ^note
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending thus your wit in 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 seems it a needful course,

Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair sollicitor.
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
Importunes personal conference with his Grace.
Haste, signify so much, while we attend,
Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

Boyet.
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 King?

Lord.
Longueville is one.

Prin.
Know you the man?

Mar.
I knew him, Madam, at a marriage-feast,
Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Faulconbridge solemnized.
In Normandy saw I this Longueville,
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
* ^noteWell fitted in the arts, 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, † ^notematch'd with two blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should spare none, 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?

Cath.
The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth.
Of all that virtue love, for virtue lov'd.
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,

And shape to win grace, tho' he had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alenson's once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthiness.

Rosa.
Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, as I have heard o' truth;
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object, that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged 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. Enter Boyet.

Prin.
Now, what admittance, Lord?

Boyet.
Navarre had notice of your fair approach;
And he and his competitors in oath
Were all addrest to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came. Marry, thus much I've 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.

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