KING.
My lords, I greet you—where is Biron?
Methinks he plays the truant.

LONGAVILLE.
He left us, good my leige, two hours ago,
To meditate by himself here in the grove;
We have not seen him since.

DUMAIN.
O, Sir, the gentleman's forsooth in love,
Within the covert of yon beechen shade,
He talks of Rosaline, of eyes, of darts!
And swears, he cannot longer keep his oath.

Enter BIRON, disguised as Costard.

KING.

Well, fellow, what's your business?

BIRON.

A packet for your majesty; and one for you, Sir— [to Longaville] this Sir, for you [to Dumain.]

KING.

How, how is this!

DUMAIN.

The king in love!

LONGAVILLE.
What, Dumain can write verses too!

KING.
Here, Longaville, take this, and hide your folly.

DUMAIN.
May I presume, my liege, to offer this;
If I am rude, it is thro' ignorance.

LONGAVILLE.
Here, Dumain, I am not Catherine.

KING.
Come, come, my lords, e'en let us laugh it out,
We are all in love, that is the sum of all.

DUMAIN.
My liege, we must confess, 'tis even so.

BIRON.
With what gravity these signiors talk. [Aside.]

KING.
Go, seek out Biron, bid him attend
Our pleasure here.— [Exit. Biron.
You see, my Lords, how rashly we have vow'd;
'Tis hard to conquer, when our blood is young,
A passion, thus inspir'd by virtuous love;
Let us then, rather, seek some lawful means
For a dispensation of our oaths.—Dumain,
You smile.—But here comes Biron. Enter BIRON, in his own dress.

KING.
So, Biron, you cannot quit your studies;
You are so anxious to improve your mind,
You will not lose an hour in idle talk.

BIRON.
My liege, I must perform the duties of my oath;
An oath, you know, my lords, is a sacred thing.

KING.
Come, come, good Sir, we have not yet to learn
What books you study.

BIRON.
What books my liege!

KING.
Ay, ay; Rosaline hath such a face,
Such force of beauty, such prevailing art,
We do not wonder at your sudden love.

BIRON.
I am glad to see your majesty so pleas'd;
Mean you, I shou'd confess?

KING.
We will no longer hide a truth from you,
We're all forsworn; nay, Biron, frown not so.

BIRON.
Was it for this, my liege, I did forswear
All joy, all mirth, to fast three years with you?
I am betray'd, good gentlemen, I find.
I, that am honest, I, that hold it wrong
To break the vow I am engaged in;
I am betray'd by keeping company
With men, like men, ever weak, and variable;
When shall you see me, like a lover, whine,
Or sigh for Joan? When shall you hear, that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gate, a state, a brow, a breast, a waste,
A leg, or limb? What, hoa, a candle there!

DUMAIN.
For what? for what?

BIRON.
To see the wounds, that mighty love hath made.

KING.
Good Biron, peace; since we, like noble friends,
Have made a declaration of our loves;
Be you as honest; come, confess the truth.

BIRON.
O, what a scene of foolery is this!
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of love!
No, no, my liege; I do not hold it good
To lay my arms athwart my bosom thus,
To heave the amorous sigh, to steal a glance,
Or turn apostate, for a woman's wiles;
I cannot, good my liege, in conscience do it,
In faith I cannot.—But who have we here?

DULL, COSTARD, Don ARMADO, JAQUENETTA.

DULL.

God bless your majesty!

KING.

What present hast thou there?

DULL.

Some certain treason.

ARMADO.

Sole governor of Navarre! thus 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 beast most graze, birds best pick, 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 walk'd upon; it is, ycleped thy park. Then for the place, where; where I mean I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, which covereth my modest cheek with much blushing.

KING.

I prithee, gentle knight, proceed.

BIRON.

O, good Armado, we entreat you, Sir.

ARMADO.

Then 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—

COSTARD.

Me?

ARMADO.

That unletter'd small knowing soul.—

COSTARD.

Me?

ARMADO.

That shallow vassal.—

COSTARD.

Still me?

ARMADO.

Which, as I well remember, this fellow Costard here—

COSTARD.

O me!

ARMADO.

Sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict, and continent canon—with— with—O with—

BIRON.

O, Sir, the knight is wonderfully modest.

ARMADO.

With a child of our grandmother eve, a female; or for thy more understanding, a woman.—I did deliver the swain, and Jaquenetta (for so the weaker vessel is called) to thy sweet grace's officer, Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing and estimation.

DULL.

Me, an't please your grace, I am Anthony Dull.

KING.

Well, sirrah, what say you, to this?

COSTARD.

Sir, I confess speaking—

ARMADO.

Nay, by this light he kiss'd her too.

COSTARD.

Not me, an't please your grace, that was my brother Costard.

BIRON.
I believe the fellow speaks truth now. [Aside.]

KING.
What other Costard, fellow? are you mad?

DUMAIN.
I think, my liege, he is; for even now
To me he did deny his name was Costard;
Sometimes he stares about him with a wildness,
As if the faculties of his soul were
Lock'd up in silent admiration of himself.
Then will he start, and be himself again.

BIRON.
Perhaps, my lords, the effect of too much love;
Love hath, my liege, a very mad'ning quality.

KING.
Nay, prithee, good Biron, peace.

BIRON.
My liege, I'm silent.

KING.
Thus, courteous knight, you must pursue the law,
Let Costard be confined, let him be purg'd

From this gross sin, by fasts, and penitence;
And for that weaker vessel, Jaquenetta,
Let her return to her first occupation:
To your good care we must deliver them,
My ever gentle courteous knight, farewel. [Exeunt King, Biron, &c. ARMADO, DULL, COSTARD, JAQUENETTA.

ARMADO.

Well, Mr. Constable, you heard the king's commands—

DULL.

Yes, Sir, the king's pleasure is, that I keep Costard safe, that I let him take no delight, nor no penance, though I make him fast three times a week.

ARMADO.

Very right, Master Dull; about thy business then—nay—stay not thy compliment.—I forgive thy duty—adieu.—[Exeunt Dull, Costard.] I do betray myself with much blushing; maid,—

JAQUENETTA.

Man!—

ARMADO.

The very spirit of my affection is as potent—

JAQUENETTA.

Sir!

ARMADO.

My confusion will not suffer—

JAQUENETTA.

I can readily excuse your attendance, I know the way to my lodge, Sir:

ARMADO.

I will visit thee.

JAQUENETTA.

Where?

ARMADO.

At your lodge, I know where it is situate.

JAQUENETTA.

Lord, how wise you are!

ARMADO.

I will tell thee wonders.

JAQUENETTA.

With what face?

ARMADO.

I love thee.

JAQUENETTA.

Ha! ha! ha!

ARMADO.

Dost thou mock me?

JAQUENETTA.

Alass! poor Costard's fate, fasting and penitence will do thee good, most civil knight.

ARMADO.

But, prithee, hear me.

JAQUENETTA.

Not a word.

ARMADO.

Have patience, gentle nymph.—

Enter BIRON.

BIRON.

What my trusty knight wooeing! that ever love should be forbid in a court, where there are so many amorous fools!—Most potent Don Adriano, I wou'd not interrupt you at so noble an atchievement, but by the king's express mandate—nay, hide not thy face—I know thy modesty is great— Jaquenetta, have you no influence? prithee make him turn.

ARMADO.

Most worthy lord, I do confess—

BIRON.

Nay, nay, I do not want thee to confess; every man here is sovereign of his own affections; but hear the king's command, that you, Don Adriano, do prepare some pastime, shew, or antic, to entertain the Princess with this afternoon, at her pavilion; such as may suit the shortness of the time; they may be revels, dances, masks, or what you please.

ARMAMO.

His Majesty does me great honour—I assure you, my lord—my invention is excellent at such devices. —But that between ourselves.—You'll pardon this transgression, [Looking at Jaquenetta]—I shall pay due obedience to his grace's order—But I say, my lord, you'll pardon, ha! [Looking still at her.] A shew or antick, or a mask.—I will about it strait.

BIRON.

God help thy capacity! it is the king's desire that Costard's set at liberty again. Jaquenetta, fare thee well.

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