Biron.
See, where it comes; behaviour, what wert thou,^{7 note}

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 come 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 in perjur'd men.

King.
Rebuke me not for That, which you provoke;
  The virtue of your eye must break my oath.^{8 note}

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 unsully'd lilly, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
  I would not yield to be your house's guest:
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heav'nly 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 these days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four, indeed, confronted were 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. Fair, gentle, sweet,
Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet^{9 note}
With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light; your capacity
Is of that nature, as 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 vizors was it, that you wore?

Biron.
Where? when? what vizor? why demand you this?

Ros.
There, then, that vizor, that superfluous Case,
That hid the worse, and shew'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.

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 vizor to my friend,
  Nor woo in rhime, like a blind harper's song.
Taffata-phrases, silken terms precise,
  Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
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 exprest
  In russet yeas, and honest kersy noes:
And to begin, wench, (so God help me, law!)
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

Ros.
Sans, sans, I pray you.

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,^{1 note} Lord have mercy on us, 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 both I see.

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,^{2 note}

That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?

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?

King.
Madam, I was.

Prin.
And were you well advis'd?

King.
I was, fair Madam.

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 forswear.^{3 note}

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 heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain,
You gave me this; but take it, Sir, again.

King.
My faith, and this, to th' Princess I did give;
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin.
Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my Dear.
What? will you have me? or your pearl again?

Biron.
Neither of either: I remit both twain.
I see the trick on't; here was a consent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment)
To dash it, like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years,^{4 note}