Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.
Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm, Pretty, and apt.
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. dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. [the Beggar? Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 't is not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune.
Moth. How mean you, sir; I pretty, and my say-A
ing 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, inaster?
Arm. In thy condign praise.
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 heatest my blood.
Moth. I am answered, sir.
Arm. I love not to be crossed,
Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses love not him.
[Aside.
Arm. I have promised to study three years with
Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. [the duke.
Arm. Impossible.
Moth. How many is one thrice told? [tapster.
Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fits the spirit of a
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 call, three.
Arm. True.
Math. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study?
Now here is 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,
Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. To prove you a cipher. [Aside. 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?
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 whipped; and yet a better love than
my master.
[Aside.
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 be past.
Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta,
Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is that you keep
Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight,
nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week.
For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she
is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.
Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid.
Faq. Man.
Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Faq. That's hereby.
Arm. I know where it is situate.
Faq. Lord, how wise you are!
Arm. I will tell thee wonders,
Faq. With that face?
Faq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell.
Faq. Fair weather after you!
Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away. [Ex. Dull and Jaq.
Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences 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 punished. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.
Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Arm. Most sweet Hercules! - More authority, Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let loose. [to prison. them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt Moth. Sampson, master; he was a man of good Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desocarriage, great carriage; for he carried the town-lation that I have seen, some shall seegates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Sampson! strong-jointed SampI 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. What shall some see?
Cost. Nay nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too 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. [Ex. Moth and Cost. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base,
Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two; or where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, 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 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 pathetica!!
which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falsely 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 butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called 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 rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonnet. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
ACT II. SCENE 1.-Another part of the Park. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other Attendants. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your deares: spirits:
Consider who 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. [mean,
Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but
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:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the 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 outwear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth 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 solicitor:
Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
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 duke?
1 Lord. Longaville is one.
Prin.
Mar. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast,
Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jacques Falconbridge solemnised,
In Normandy saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well 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 match'd with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should none spare that come within his power.
Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is 't so?
Mar. Theysay so most, that most his humours know.
Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd
Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: [youth,
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill,
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report, to his great worthiness.
Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: If I have heard a truth,
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His seye 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.
Re-enter Boyet.
Now, what admittance, ford? And he, and his competitors in oath, Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady, Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt, He rather means to lodge you in the field, (Like one that comes here to besiege his court,) Then seek a dispensation for his oath, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The Ladies mask. Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and Attendants.
King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.
Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine.
King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.
Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither.
King. Hear me, dear lady, I have sworn an oath.
Prin. Our lady help my lord! he 'll be forsworn.
King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing
King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. [else.
Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn-out house-keeping:
'T is deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it:
But pardon me, I am too sudden bold;
To teach a teacher ill-beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.
King, Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away;
For you 'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know you did.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.ca/books/content?id=Y8YjAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA99&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=king&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U13vBR2OBMgE_WttLHbRoDFMMoaNg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=476,865,464,137)
Ros. The hour that fools should ask.
Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.
King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
Being but the one half of an entire sum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.
But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,)
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;
Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than. Aquitain so gelded as it is.
Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.
Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, This civil war of wits were much better us'd
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt
Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I 'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.
Prin.
We arrest your word :-
Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.
King.
Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come,
Where that and other specialties are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.
King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand
As honour, without breach of honour, inay
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me: and farewell:
To-morrow we shall visit you again. [grace!
Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your
King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place!
[Exeunt King and his train.
Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.
Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would
be glad to see it.
Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Ros. Is the fool sick?
Ros. Alack, let it blood.
Biron. Sick at the heart.
Biron. Would that do it good?
Ros. My physic says, I.
Biron. Will you prick 't with your eye?
Ros. No poynt, with my knife.
Biron. Now, God save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.
Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What lady is that
same?
Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Ex.
Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the
white?
[light.
Boyet. A woman sometimes, if you saw her in the
Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her
[were a shame.
Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that,
Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.
Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 't is abus'd.
Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.
Prin. Your reason.
[retire
Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed:
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
Who, tend'ring their own worth, from whence they
were glass'd,
Did point out to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd-
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye
hath disclos'd:
I only have made a mouth of his eye,
By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st
skilfully.
[of him.
Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news
Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her
father is but grim.
Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?
Mar. No.
Boyet. What, then, do you see?
Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.
You are too hard for me. [Exeunt.
SCENE I.-Another part of the Park.
Enter Armado and Moth.
Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense
of hearing.
Moth. Concolinel[Singing. Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; must employ him in a letter to my love. [French brawl? Moth. Master, will you win your love with a Arm. How meanest thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up [Ex. Long. love by smelling love; with your hat, penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. By my penny of observation. Arm. But O, but O
Biron. What 's her name, in the cap?
Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?
Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.
Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!
Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
[Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask.
Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord;
Not a word with him but a jest.
Boyet.
And every jest but a word.
Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his
word.
Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board.
Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!
Boyet.
And wherefore not ships?
No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish
Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. [the jest?
[Offering to kiss her.
Mur.
Not so, gentle beast:
My lips are no common, though several they be.
Boyet. Belonging to whom?
To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles,
Moth, the hobby-horse is forgot. Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love? Arm. Almost I had. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy. Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? Moth. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with
her: and out of heart you love her, being out of
heart that you cannot enjoy her.
Arm. I am all these three.
[nothing at all. Moth. And three times as much more, and yet Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter.
Moth. A message well sympathised; a horse to be ambassador for an ass!
Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances;-I smell some l'envoy, some goose in this.
Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.
Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.
Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing
Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the but this: Bear this significant to the country maid
horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go.
Arm. The way is but short; away.
Moth. As swift as lead, sir.
Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [giving him money] for the best ward of mine honour is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow. [Exit. Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signor Costard, adieu. Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew! [Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that 's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remuneration.-What 's the price of this inkle? a penny:-No, I'll give you a rehe:-muneration: why, it carries it.-Remuneration!why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word.
Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? [no.
Moth. Minime, honest master; or rather, master,
Arm. I say, lead is slow.
Moth.
You are too swift, sir, to say so.
Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's
I shoot thee at the swain.
Moth.
Thump then, and I flee. [Exit.
Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of
grace!
By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:
Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is returned.
Re-enter Moth and Costard.
Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken in a shin.
Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,-thy
T'envoy-begin.
Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in
them all, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no
l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain!
Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy
silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs
provokes me to ridiculous smiling: Ŏ, pardon me,
my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for
l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a salve?
Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy
a salve?
[make plain
Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
I will example it:
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
There's the moral: Now the l'envoy.
Moth. I will add the l'envoy; say the moral again.
Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding four.
Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with
my l'envoy.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Arm. Until the goose came out of door,
Staying the odds by adding four.
Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose;
Would you desire more?
Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose,
that 's flat:-
Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly
well met.
Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon
may a man buy for a remuneration?
Biron. What is a remuneration?
Cost. Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk.
Cost. I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.
Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is.
Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow morn-
ing.
[it is but this ;-
Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave,
The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her
And Rosaline they call her: ask for her; [name,
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There 's thy guerdon; go.
[Gives him money.
Cost. Gardon,-O sweet gardon! better than re-
muneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most
sweet gardon!-I will do it, sir, in print.-Gardon-
remuneration.
[Exit.
Biron. O-And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have
been love's whip;
A very beadle to a humorous sigh ;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid:
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.-The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that 's a fat goose.
Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this ar-
gument begin?
Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in
Then call'd you for the l'envoy.
[shin.
Cost. True, and I for a plantain: Thus came your
argument in;
Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought.
And he ended the market.
Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard
broken in a shin?
Moth. I will tell you sensibly. [that l'envoy.
Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak
I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.
Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost. Till there be more matter in the shin.
drm, Marry, Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces.
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting paritors, O my little heart!-
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What? I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard!
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her? Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his alinighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan;
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Ex.
SCENE I.-Another part of the Park.
Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine,
Boyet, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.
Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse so
Against the steep uprising of the hill? [hard
Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting
mind.
Well, lords, to-day we shali have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.-
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murderer in?
For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot.
Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot.
For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
Prin. What, what! first praise me, and then again
say, no?
O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
For. Yes, madam, fair.
Prin.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
[Giving him money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
Prin. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the per nicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say veni, vidi, vici; which to annotanize in the vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame; he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; Why did he come? to see; Why did he see? to overcome; To whom came he? to the beg gar; What saw he? the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd; On whose side? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial: On whose side? the king's?-no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I coinmand thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will: What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; For tittles, titles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.
"Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
"DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO."
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play:
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.
Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited
[better? What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever hear Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style.
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it ere
But come, the bow:-Now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do 't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
while. [in court; Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport To the prince, and his book-mates.
Who gave thee this letter?
Cost.
Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it?
Cost.
From my lord to my lady.
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, Prin. From which lord, to which lady?
We bend to that the working of the heart:
As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?
Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord.
Enter Costard.
Boyet. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.
Cost. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the
head lady?
Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest
that have no heads.
Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin. The thickest, and the tallest. Lis truth.
Cost. The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; truth
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be
fit.
[here.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest
Prin. What 's your will, sir? what's your will?
Cost. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one
lady Rosaline.
[of mine:
Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter: he's a good friend
Stand aside, good bearer,-Boyet, you can carve;
Break up this capon.
Boyet.
I am bound to serve.-
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.
Prin.
We will read it, I swear :
Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.
Boyet. [Reads.]
"By heaven, that thou art fair is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine;
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline. Jaway.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords,
Here, sweet, put up this; 't will be thine another
[Exit Princess and train.
Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?
Ros. Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.
Why, she that bears the bow.
Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,
Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on!
Ros. Well then, I am the shooter.
Boyet.
And who is your deer?
Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come
[not near.
Finely put on, indeed!-
Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she
strikes at the brow.
[now?
Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her
that was a man when king Pepin of France was a
Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying,
little boy, as touching the hit it?
Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that
was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was
a little wench, as touching the hit it?
Ros. [Singing.]
Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can.
[Exeunt Ros, and Kath. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant! how both did fit it! [did hit it. Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark says my lady!
|