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 ^note;
When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,
The 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 Academe ^note,
Still and contemplative in living art.
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 ^note here:
Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names,
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 ^note, and keep it too ^note.

Long.
I am resolved; '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 bankrupt quite ^note the wits.

Dum.
My loving lord, Dumain is mortified:
The grosser manner of these ^note world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves:
To love, to wealth, to pomp ^note, I pine and die;
With all these living in philosophy.

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.

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 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 forbid ^note;
Or study where to meet some mistress fine,
  When mistresses from common sense are hid;
Or, having sworn too hard a keeping ^note oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If study's gain be thus ^note, 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 ^note, all delights are vain; but ^note that most vain,
Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain:
As, painfully to pore upon a book
  To seek the light of truth; while truth the while
Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look:
  Light, seeking light, doth light of light ^note 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 ^note blinded by.
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 ^note authority from others' ^note 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.
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame ^note;
And every godfather can give a name.

King.
How well he's read, to reason against reading!

Dum.
Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding!

Long.
He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.

Biron.
The spring is near, when green geese are abreeding.

Dum.
How follows that?

Biron.
Fit in his place and time.

Dum.
In reason nothing.

Biron.
Something, then, in rhyme.

King.
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 ^note cause to sing?
Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in ^note May's new-fangled ^note shows ^note;
But like of each thing that in season grows.

So you, to study ^{note note} now it is too late,
Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate ^note.

King.
Well, sit ^note you out: go home, Biron: adieu.

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 ^note 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!

Biron [reads].

‘Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court,’—Hath this been proclaimed?

Long.

Four days ago.

Biron.

Let's see the penalty. [Reads] ‘on pain of losing her tongue.’ Who devised this penalty? ^note

Long.

Marry, that did I.

Biron.

Sweet lord, and why?

Long.
To fright them hence with that dread penalty.

Biron ^note.
A dangerous law against gentility ^note! [Reads]

‘Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly ^note devise.’

About surrender up of Aquitaine
  To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid ^note father:
Therefore this article is made in vain,
  Or vainly comes the admired princess hither ^note.

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 ^note must lie here on mere necessity.

Biron.
Necessity will make us all ^note 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:
If I break faith, this word shall speak ^note for me,
I am forsworn on ‘mere necessity.’
So to the laws at large I write my name: [Subscribes. ^note
  And he that breaks them in the least degree
Stands in attainder of eternal shame:
  Suggestions are to other ^note as to me;
But I believe, although I seem so loth,
I am the last that will last ^note keep his oath.
But is there no quick recreation granted?

King.
Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted
  With a refined ^note traveller of Spain;
A man in all the world's ^note new fashion planted ^note,
  That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
One whom ^note the music of his own vain tongue
  Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;

A man of complements, whom right and wrong
  Have chose as umpire of their mutiny:
This child of fancy, that Armado hight,
  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 debate.
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 minstrelsy.

Biron.
Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire-new ^note words, fashion's own knight.

Long.
Costard the swain and he shall be our sport;
And, so to study, three years is ^note but short. Enter Dull with a letter, and Costard ^note.

Dull.

Which is the Duke's ^note own person?

Biron.

This, fellow: what wouldst?

Dull.

I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his Grace's tharborough ^note: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.

Biron.

This is he.

Dull.

Signior Arme—Arme—commends you. There's villany 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 heaven ^note: God grant us patience!

Biron.

To hear? or forbear laughing ^note?

Long.

To hear meekly, sir, and ^note to laugh moderately; or to forbear both.

Biron.

Well, sir, be it as the style shall give as us cause to climb ^note in the merriness.

Cost.

The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner ^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 ^note 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 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 vicegerent, and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, and body's fostering patron.’—

Cost.

Not a word of Costard yet.

King [reads].

‘So it is,’—

Cost.

It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in telling true, but so ^note.

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 [reads].

‘So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic 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 and by east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow ^note of thy mirth,’—

Cost.

Me?

King [reads].

‘that unlettered small-knowing soul,’—

Cost.

Me?

King [reads].

‘that shallow vassal ^note,’—

Cost.

Still me? ^note

King [reads].

‘which, as I remember, hight Costard,’—

Cost.

O, me!

King [reads].

‘sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, which ^note with,—O, with— but with this I passion to say wherewith,’—

Cost.

With a wench.

King [reads].

‘with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet ^note understanding, a woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed ^note of punishment, by thy ^note sweet Grace's officer, Anthony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.’

Dull.

Me, an't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull.

King [reads].

‘For Jaquenetta,—so is the weaker vessel called which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,—I keep ^note her as a vessel ^note 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 ^note de Armado.’

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 it.

King.

It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken with a wench.

Cost.

I was taken with none, sir: I ^note was taken with a damsel ^note.

King.

Well, it was proclaimed damsel ^note.

Cost.

This was no damsel ^note neither, sir; she was a virgin.

King.

It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed 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 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 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 ^note King, Longaville, and Dumain.

Biron.
I'll lay my head to any good man's hat ^note,
  These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. ^note
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 ^note! Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee ^note down, sorrow!

^note. Scene II [Footnote: The same. ^note Enter Armado ^note 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.

Moth.

No, no; O Lord, sir, no.

Arm.

How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?

Moth.

By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior ^note.

Arm.

Why tough senior ^note? why tough senior?

Moth.

Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal?

Arm.

I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton ^note appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.

Moth.

And I, tough senior ^note, 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 ^note, because little. Wherefore apt?

Arm.

And therefore apt ^note, because quick.

Moth.

Speak you this in my praise, master?

Arm.

In thy condign praise.

Moth.

I will praise an eel with the same praise.

Arm.

What, that an eel is ingenious ^note?

Moth.

That an eel is quick.

Arm.

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. [Aside ^note]

He speaks the mere contrary ^note; crosses love not him.

Arm.

I have promised to study three years with the Duke ^note.

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 ^note the spirit of a tapster.

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.

Arm.

It doth amount to one more than two.

Moth.

Which the base vulgar do ^note call three.

Arm.

True.

Moth.

Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is ^note three studied, ere ye'll ^note thrice wink: and how easy it is ^note to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm.

A most fine figure!

Moth.

To prove you a cipher.

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 outswear 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.

Samson, 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 Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson'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 Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit.

Moth.

It was so, sir; for she had a green wit ^note.

Arm.

My ^note love is most immaculate white and red.

Moth.

Most maculate ^note thoughts, master, are masked 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 ^note!

Moth.
If she be made of white and red,
  Her faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing ^note 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 rhyme, 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 very guilty ^note 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 ^note hind Costard: she deserves well.

Moth. [Aside ^note]

To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master ^note.

Arm.

Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love ^note.

Moth.

And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.

Arm.

I say, sing.

Moth.

Forbear till this company be past.