Love's Labour's Lost

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Love's Labour's Lost Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel. Nat. Very reuerent sport truely, and done in the testimony of a good conscience Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood, ripe as a Pomwater who now hangeth like a Iewell in the eare of Celo the skie; the welken the heauen, and anon falleth like a Crab on the face of Terra, the soyle, the land, the earth Curat.Nath. Truely M[aster]. Holofernes, the epythithes are sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I assure ye, it was a Bucke of the first head Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde of insinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication facere: as it were replication, or rather ostentare, to show as it were his inclination after his vndressed, vnpolished, vneducated, vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or ratherest vnconfirmed fashion, to insert againe my haud credo for a Deare Dul. I said the Deare was not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou monster Ignorance, how deformed doost thou looke Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the dainties that are bred in a booke. He hath not eate paper as it were: He hath not drunke inke. His intellect is not replenished, hee is onely an animall, onely sensible in the duller parts: and such barren plants are set before vs, that we thankfull should be: which we taste and feeling, are for those parts that doe fructifie in vs more then he. For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or a foole; So were there a patch set on Learning, to see him in a Schoole. But omne bene say I, being of an old Fathers minde, Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue weekes old as yet? Hol. Dictisima goodman Dull, dictisima goodman Dull Dul. What is dictima? Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was no more. And wrought not to fiue-weekes when he came to fiuescore. Th' allusion holds in the Exchange Dul. 'Tis true indeede, the Collusion holds in the Exchange Hol. God comfort thy capacity, I say th' allusion holds in the Exchange Dul. And I say the polusion holds in the Exchange: for the Moone is neuer but a month old: and I say beside that, 'twas a Pricket that the Princesse kill'd Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a Pricket Nath. Perge, good M[aster]. Holofernes, perge, so it shall please you to abrogate scurilitie Hol. I will something affect a letter, for it argues facilitie. The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt a prettie pleasing Pricket, Some say a Sore, but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore, then Sorrell iumps from thicket: Or Pricket-sore, or else Sorell, the people fall a hooting. If Sore be sore, than ell to Sore, makes fiftie sores O sorell: Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L Nath. A rare talent Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him with a talent Nath. This is a gift that I haue simple: simple, a foolish extrauagant spirit, full of formes, figures, shapes, obiects, Ideas, apprehensions, motions, reuolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankfull for it Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you, and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you are a good member of the common-wealth Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingenuous, they shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca loquitur, a soule Feminine saluteth vs. Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne. Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M[aster]. Person Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should be perst, Which is the one? Clo. Marry M[aster]. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a hogshead Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit in a turph of Earth, Fire enough for a Flint, Pearle enough for a Swine: 'tis prettie, it is well Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard, and sent mee from Don Armatho: I beseech you read it Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan, I may speake of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie, vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perreche. Old Mantuan, old Mantuan. Who vnderstandeth thee not, vt re sol la mi fa: Vnder pardon sir, What are the contents? or rather as Horrace sayes in his, What my soule verses Hol. I sir, and very learned Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege domine. If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue? Ah neuer faith could hold, if not to beautie vowed. Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile faithfull proue. Those thoughts to mee were Okes, to thee like Osiers bowed. Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes. Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend. If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice. Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee co[m]mend. All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder. Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire; Thy eye Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadfull thunder. Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fire. Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong, That sings heauens praise, with such an earthly tongue Ped. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the accent. Let me superuise the cangenet Nath. Here are onely numbers ratified, but for the elegancy, facility, & golden cadence of poesie caret: Ouiddius Naso was the man. And why in deed Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the ierkes of inuention imitarie is nothing: So doth the Hound his master, the Ape his keeper, the tyred Horse his rider: But Damosella virgin, Was this directed to you? Iaq. I sir from one mounsier Berowne, one of the strange Queenes Lords Nath. I will ouerglance the superscript. To the snow-white hand of the most beautious Lady Rosaline. I will looke againe on the intellect of the Letter, for the nomination of the partie written to the person written vnto. Your Ladiships in all desired imployment, Berowne Ped. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries with the King, and here he hath framed a Letter to a sequent of the stranger Queens: which accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and goe my sweete, deliuer this Paper into the hand of the King, it may concerne much: stay not thy complement, I forgiue thy duetie, adue Maid. Good Costard go with me: Sir God saue your life Cost. Haue with thee my girle. Enter. Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very religiously: and as a certaine Father saith Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare colourable colours. But to returne to the Verses, Did they please you sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marueilous well for the pen Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill, vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text) is the happinesse of life Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not say me nay: pauca verba. Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. Exeunt. Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone. Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare, I am coursing my selfe. They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch, pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue; if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye, and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper, God giue him grace to grone. He stands aside. The King entreth. Kin. Ay mee! Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap: in faith secrets King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not, To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose, As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot. The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes. Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright, Through the transparent bosome of the deepe, As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light: Thou shin'st in euery teare that I doe weepe, No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee: So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the teares that swell in me, And they thy glory through my griefe will show: But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe. O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell, No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell. How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper. Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere? Enter Longauile. The King steps aside. What Longauill, and reading: listen eare Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare Long. Ay me, I am forsworne Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name Lon. Am I the first y haue been periur'd so? Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know, Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie, The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue. O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue, These numbers will I teare, and write in prose Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose, Disfigure not his Shop Lon. This same shall goe. He reades the Sonnet. Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye, 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Perswade my heart to this false periurie? Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment. A Woman I forswore, but I will proue, Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee. My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue. Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me. Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is. Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine, Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is: If broken then, it is no fault of mine: If by me broke, What foole is not so wise, To loose an oath, to win a Paradise? Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity. A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure Idolatry. God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th' way. Enter Dumaine. Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play, Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie, And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye. More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish, Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish Dum. O most diuine Kate Bero. O most prophane coxcombe Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted Dum. As vpright as the Cedar Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child Dum. As faire as day Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine Dum. O that I had my wish? Lon. And I had mine Kin. And mine too good Lord Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word? Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I haue writ Ber. Once more Ile marke how Loue can varry Wit. Dumane reades his Sonnet. On a day, alack the day: Loue, whose Month is euery May, Spied a blossome passing faire, Playing in the wanton ayre: Through the Veluet, leaues the winde, All vnseene, can passage finde. That the Louer sicke to death, Wish himselfe the heauens breath. Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe, Ayre, would I might triumph so. But alacke my hand is sworne, Nere to plucke thee from thy throne: Vow alacke for youth vnmeete, youth so apt to plucke a sweet. Doe not call it sinne in me, That I am forsworne for thee. Thou for whom Ioue would sweare, Iuno but an aethiop were, And denie himselfe for Ioue. Turning mortall for thy Loue. This will I send, and something else more plaine. That shall expresse my true-loues fasting paine. O would the King, Berowne and Longauill, Were Louers too, ill to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a periur'd note: For none offend, where all alike doe dote Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie, That in Loues griefe desir'st societie: You may looke pale, but I should blush I know, To be ore-heard, and taken napping so Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such, You chide at him, offending twice as much. You doe not loue Maria? Longauile, Did neuer Sonnet for her sake compile; Nor neuer lay his wreathed armes athwart His louing bosome, to keepe downe his heart. I haue beene closely shrowded in this bush, And markt you both, and for you both did blush. I heard your guilty Rimes, obseru'd your fashion: Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion. Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries! On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes. You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth, And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath. What will Berowne say when that he shall heare Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare. How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit? How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it? For all the wealth that euer I did see, I would not haue him know so much by me Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie. Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me. Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reproue These wormes for louing, that art most in loue? Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares. There is no certaine Princesse that appeares. You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing: Tush, none but Minstrels like of Sonnetting. But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not All three of you, to be thus much ore'shot? You found his Moth, the King your Moth did see: But I a Beame doe finde in each of three. O what a Scene of fool'ry haue I seene. Of sighes, of grones, of sorrow, and of teene: O me, with what strict patience haue I sat, To see a King transformed to a Gnat? To see great Hercules whipping a Gigge, And profound Salomon tuning a Iygge? And Nestor play at push-pin with the boyes, And Critticke Tymon laugh at idle toyes. Where lies thy griefe? O tell me good Dumaine; And gentle Longauill, where lies thy paine? And where my Liedges? all about the brest: A Candle hoa! Kin. Too bitter is thy iest. Are wee betrayed thus to thy ouer-view? Ber. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. I that am honest, I that hold it sinne To breake the vow I am ingaged in. I am betrayed by keeping company With men, like men of inconstancie. When shall you see me write a thing in rime? Or grone for Ioane? or spend a minutes time, In pruning mee, when shall you heare that I will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a state, a brow, a brest, a waste, a legge, a limme Kin. Soft, Whither away so fast? A true man, or a theefe, that gallops so Ber. I post from Loue, good Louer let me go. Enter Iaquenetta and Clowne. Iaqu. God blesse the King Kin. What Present hast thou there? Clo. Some certaine treason Kin. What makes treason heere? Clo. Nay it makes nothing sir Kin. If it marre nothing neither, The treason and you goe in peace away together Iaqu. I beseech your Grace let this Letter be read, Our person mis-doubts it: it was treason he said Kin. Berowne, read it ouer. He reades the Letter. Kin. Where hadst thou it? Iaqu. Of Costard King. Where hadst thou it? Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio Kin. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Ber. A toy my Liedge, a toy: your grace needes not feare it Long. It did moue him to passion, and therefore let's heare it Dum. It is Berowns writing, and heere is his name Ber. Ah you whoreson loggerhead, you were borne to doe me shame. Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confesse, I confesse Kin. What? Ber. That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make vp the messe. He, he, and you: and you my Liedge, and I, Are picke-purses in Loue, and we deserue to die. O dismisse this audience, and I shall tell you more Dum. Now the number is euen Berow. True true, we are fowre: will these Turtles be gone? Kin. Hence sirs, away Clo. Walk aside the true folke, & let the traytors stay Ber. Sweet Lords, sweet Louers, O let vs imbrace, As true we are as flesh and bloud can be, The Sea will ebbe and flow, heauen will shew his face: Young bloud doth not obey an old decree. We cannot crosse the cause why we are borne: Therefore of all hands must we be forsworne King. What, did these rent lines shew some loue of thine? Ber. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heauenly Rosaline, That (like a rude and sauage man of Inde.) At the first opening of the gorgeous East, Bowes not his vassall head, and strooken blinde, Kisses the base ground with obedient breast? What peremptory Eagle-sighted eye Dares looke vpon the heauen of her brow, That is not blinded by her maiestie? Kin. What zeale, what furie, hath inspir'd thee now? My Loue (her Mistres) is a gracious Moone, Shee (an attending Starre) scarce seene a light Ber. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. O, but for my Loue, day would turne to night, Of all complexions the cul'd soueraignty, Doe meet as at a faire in her faire cheeke, Where seuerall Worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants, that want it selfe doth seeke. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues, Fie painted Rethoricke, O she needs it not, To things of sale, a sellers praise belongs: She passes prayse, then prayse too short doth blot. A withered Hermite, fiuescore winters worne, Might shake off fiftie, looking in her eye: Beauty doth varnish Age, as if new borne, And giues the Crutch the Cradles infancie. O 'tis the Sunne that maketh all things shine King. By heauen, thy Loue is blacke as Ebonie Berow. Is Ebonie like her? O word diuine? A wife of such wood were felicite. O who can giue an oth? Where is a booke? That I may sweare Beauty doth beauty lacke, If that she learne not of her eye to looke: No face is faire that is not full so blacke Kin. O paradoxe, Blacke is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons, and the Schoole of night: And beauties crest becomes the heauens well Ber. Diuels soonest tempt resembling spirits of light. O if in blacke my Ladies browes be deckt, It mournes, that painting vsurping haire Should rauish doters with a false aspect: And therfore is she borne to make blacke, faire. Her fauour turnes the fashion of the dayes, For natiue bloud is counted painting now: And therefore red that would auoyd dispraise, Paints it selfe blacke, to imitate her brow Dum. To look like her are Chimny-sweepers blacke Lon. And since her time, are Colliers counted bright King. And Aethiops of their sweet complexion crake Dum. Dark needs no Candles now, for dark is light Ber. Your mistresses dare neuer come in raine, For feare their colours should be washt away Kin. 'Twere good yours did: for sir to tell you plaine, Ile finde a fairer face not washt to day Ber. Ile proue her faire, or talke till dooms-day here Kin. No Diuell will fright thee then so much as shee Duma. I neuer knew man hold vile stuffe so deere Lon. Looke, heer's thy loue, my foot and her face see Ber. O if the streets were paued with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread Duma. O vile, then as she goes what vpward lyes? The street should see as she walk'd ouer head Kin. But what of this, are we not all in loue? Ber. O nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworne Kin. Then leaue this chat, & good Berown now proue Our louing lawfull, and our fayth not torne Dum. I marie there, some flattery for this euill Long. O some authority how to proceed, Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the diuell Dum. Some salue for periurie, Ber. O 'tis more then neede. Haue at you then affections men at armes, Consider what you first did sweare vnto: To fast, to study, and to see no woman: Flat treason against the Kingly state of youth. Say, Can you fast? your stomacks are too young: And abstinence ingenders maladies. And where that you haue vow'd to studie (Lords) In that each of you haue forsworne his Booke. Can you still dreame and pore, and thereon looke. For when would you my Lord, or you, or you, Haue found the ground of studies excellence, Without the beauty of a womans face; From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue, They are the Ground, the Bookes, the Achadems, From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. Why, vniuersall plodding poysons vp The nimble spirits in the arteries, As motion and long during action tyres The sinnowy vigour of the trauailer. Now for not looking on a womans face, You haue in that forsworne the vse of eyes: And studie too, the causer of your vow. For where is any Author in the world, Teaches such beauty as a womans eye: Learning is but an adiunct to our selfe, And where we are, our Learning likewise is. Then when our selues we see in Ladies eyes, With our selues. Doe we not likewise see our learning there? O we haue made a Vow to studie, Lords, And in that vow we haue forsworne our Bookes: For when would you (my Leege) or you, or you? In leaden contemplation haue found out Such fiery Numbers as the prompting eyes, Of beauties tutors haue inrich'd you with: Other slow Arts intirely keepe the braine: And therefore finding barraine practizers, Scarce shew a haruest of their heauy toyle. But Loue first learned in a Ladies eyes, Liues not alone emured in the braine: But with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in euery power, And giues to euery power a double power, Aboue their functions and their offices. It addes a precious seeing to the eye: A Louers eyes will gaze an Eagle blinde. A Louers eare will heare the lowest sound. When the suspicious head of theft is stopt. Loues feeling is more soft and sensible, Then are the tender hornes of Cockle Snayles. Loues tongue proues dainty, Bachus grosse in taste, For Valour, is not Loue a Hercules? Still climing trees in the Hesperides. Subtill as Sphinx, as sweet and musicall, As bright Apollo's Lute, strung with his haire. And when Loue speakes, the voyce of all the Gods, Make heauen drowsie with the harmonie. Neuer durst Poet touch a pen to write, Vntill his Inke were tempred with Loues sighes: O then his lines would rauish sauage eares, And plant in Tyrants milde humilitie. From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue. They sparcle still the right promethean fire, They are the Bookes, the Arts, the Achademes, That shew, containe, and nourish all the world. Else none at all in ought proues excellent. Then fooles you were these women to forsweare: Or keeping what is sworne, you will proue fooles, For Wisedomes sake, a word that all men loue: Or for Loues sake, a word that loues all men. Or for Mens sake, the author of these Women: Or Womens sake, by whom we men are Men. Let's once loose our oathes to finde our selues, Or else we loose our selues, to keepe our oathes: It is religion to be thus forsworne. For Charity it selfe fulfills the Law: And who can seuer loue from Charity Kin. Saint Cupid then, and Souldiers to the field Ber. Aduance your standards, & vpon them Lords, Pell, mell, downe with them: but be first aduis'd, In conflict that you get the Sunne of them Long. Now to plaine dealing, Lay these glozes by, Shall we resolue to woe these girles of France? Kin. And winne them too, therefore let vs deuise, Some entertainment for them in their Tents Ber. First from the Park let vs conduct them thither, Then homeward euery man attach the hand Of his faire Mistresse, in the afternoone We will with some strange pastime solace them: Such as the shortnesse of the time can shape, For Reuels, Dances, Maskes, and merry houres, Fore-runne faire Loue, strewing her way with flowres Kin. Away, away, no time shall be omitted, That will be time, and may by vs be fitted Ber. Alone, alone sowed Cockell, reap'd no Corne, And Iustice alwaies whirles in equall measure: Light Wenches may proue plagues to men forsworne, If so, our Copper buyes no better treasure. Exeunt. Actus Quartus. Enter the Pedant, Curate and Dull. Pedant. Satis quid sufficit Curat. I praise God for you sir, your reasons at dinner haue beene sharpe & sententious: pleasant without scurrillity, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresie: I did conuerse this quondam day with a companion of the Kings, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armatho Ped. Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate maiesticall, and his generall behauiour vaine, ridiculous, and thrasonicall. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odde, as it were, too peregrinat, as I may call it Curat. A most singular and choise Epithat, Draw out his Table-booke. Peda. He draweth out the thred of his verbositie, finer then the staple of his argument. I abhor such phanaticall phantasims, such insociable and poynt deuise companions, such rackers of ortagriphie, as to speake dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he shold pronounce debt; debt, not det: he clepeth a Calf, Caufe: halfe, haufe: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abreuiated ne: this is abhominable, which he would call abhominable it insinuateth me of infamie: ne inteligis domine, to make franticke, lunaticke? Cura. Laus deo, bene intelligo Peda. Bome boon for boon prescian, a little scratcht, 'twil serue. Enter Bragart, Boy. Curat. Vides ne quis venit? Peda. Video, & gaudio Brag. Chirra Peda. Quari Chirra, not Sirra? Brag. Men of peace well incountred Ped. Most millitarie sir salutation Boy. They haue beene at a great feast of Languages, and stolne the scraps Clow. O they haue liu'd long on the almes-basket of words. I maruell thy M[aster]. hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitu%dinitatibus: Thou art easier swallowed then a flapdragon Page. Peace, the peale begins Brag. Mounsier, are you not lettred? Page. Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horne-booke: What is Ab speld backward with the horn on his head? Peda. Ba, puericia with a horne added Pag. Ba most seely Sheepe, with a horne: you heare his learning Peda. Quis quis, thou Consonant? Pag. The last of the fiue Vowels if You repeat them, or the fift if I Peda. I will repeat them: a e I Pag. The Sheepe, the other two concludes it o u Brag. Now by the salt waue of the mediteranium, a sweet tutch, a quicke venewe of wit, snip snap, quick & home, it reioyceth my intellect, true wit Page. Offered by a childe to an olde man: which is wit-old Peda. What is the figure? What is the figure? Page. Hornes Peda. Thou disputes like an Infant: goe whip thy Gigge Pag. Lend me your Horne to make one, and I will whip about your Infamie vnum cita a gigge of a Cuckolds horne Clow. And I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread: Hold, there is the very Remuneration I had of thy Maister, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of discretion. O & the heauens were so pleased, that thou wert but my Bastard; What a ioyfull father wouldst thou make mee? Goe to, thou hast it ad dungil, at the fingers ends, as they say Peda. Oh I smell false Latine, dunghel for vnguem Brag. Arts-man preambulat, we will bee singled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the Charghouse on the top of the Mountaine? Peda. Or Mons the hill Brag. At your sweet pleasure, for the Mountaine Peda. I doe sans question Bra. Sir, it is the Kings most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the Princesse at her Pauilion, in the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the after-noone Ped. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the after-noone: the word is well culd, chose, sweet, and apt I doe assure you sir, I doe assure Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my familiar, I doe assure ye very good friend: for what is inward betweene vs, let it passe. I doe beseech thee remember thy curtesie. I beseech thee apparell thy head: and among other importunate & most serious designes, and of great import indeed too: but let that passe, for I must tell thee it will please his Grace (by the world) sometime to leane vpon my poore shoulder, and with his royall finger thus dallie with my excrement, with my mustachio: but sweet heart let that passe. By the world I recount no fable, some certaine speciall honours it pleaseth his greatnesse to impart to Armado a Souldier, a man of trauell, that hath seene the world: but let that passe; the very all of all is: but sweet heart I do implore secrecie, that the King would haue mee present the Princesse (sweet chucke) with some delightfull ostentation, or show, or pageant, or anticke, or fire-worke: Now, vnderstanding that the Curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sodaine breaking out of myrth (as it were) I haue acquainted you withall, to the end to craue your assistance Peda. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to bee rendred by our assistants the Kings command: and this most gallant, illustrate and learned Gentleman, before the Princesse: I say none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies Curat. Where will you finde men worthy enough to present them? Peda. Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gentleman Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his great limme or ioynt) shall passe Pompey the great, the Page Hercules Brag. Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big as the end of his Club Peda. Shall I haue audience: he shall present Hercules in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling a Snake; and I will haue an Apologie for that purpose Pag. An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience hisse, you may cry, Well done Hercules, now thou crushest the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious, though few haue the grace to doe it Brag. For the rest of the Worthies? Peda. I will play three my selfe Pag. Thrice worthy Gentleman Brag. Shall I tell you a thing? Peda. We attend Brag. We will haue, if this fadge not, an Antique. I beseech you follow Ped. Via good-man Dull, thou hast spoken no word all this while Dull. Nor vnderstood none neither sir Ped. Alone, we will employ thee Dull. Ile make one in a dance, or so: or I will play on the taber to the Worthies, & let them dance the hey Ped. Most Dull, honest Dull, to our sport away. Enter. Enter Ladies. Qu. Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in. A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds: Look you, what I haue from the louing King Rosa. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Qu. Nothing but this: yes as much loue in Rime, As would be cram'd vp in a sheet of paper Writ on both sides the leafe, margent and all, That he was faine to seale on Cupids name Rosa. That was the way to make his god-head wax: For he hath beene fiue thousand yeeres a Boy Kath. I, and a shrewd vnhappy gallowes too Ros. You'll nere be friends with him, a kild your sister Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heauy, and so she died: had she beene Light like you, of such a merrie nimble stirring spirit, she might a bin a Grandam ere she died. And so may you: For a light heart liues long Ros. What's your darke meaning mouse, of this light word? Kat. A light condition in a beauty darke Ros. We need more light to finde your meaning out Kat. You'll marre the light by taking it in snuffe: Therefore Ile darkely end the argument Ros. Look what you doe, you doe it stil i'th darke Kat. So do not you, for you are a light Wench Ros. Indeed I waigh not you, and therefore light Ka. You waigh me not, O that's you care not for me Ros. Great reason: for past care, is still past cure Qu. Well bandied both, a set of Wit well played. But Rosaline, you haue a Fauour too? Who sent it? and what is it? Ros. I would you knew. And if my face were but as faire as yours, My Fauour were as great, be witnesse this. Nay, I haue Verses too, I thanke Berowne, The numbers true, and were the numbring too. I were the fairest goddesse on the ground. I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. O he hath drawne my picture in his letter Qu. Any thing like? Ros. Much in the letters, nothing in the praise Qu. Beauteous as Incke: a good conclusion Kat. Faire as a text B. in a Coppie booke Ros. Ware pensals. How? Let me not die your debtor, My red Dominicall, my golden letter. O that your face were full of Oes Qu. A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes: But Katherine, what was sent to you From faire Dumaine? Kat. Madame, this Gloue Qu. Did he not send you twaine? Kat. Yes Madame: and moreouer, Some thousand Verses of a faithfull Louer. A huge translation of hypocrisie, Vildly compiled, profound simplicitie Mar. This, and these Pearls, to me sent Longauile. The Letter is too long by halfe a mile Qu. I thinke no lesse: Dost thou wish in heart The Chaine were longer, and the Letter short Mar. I, or I would these hands might neuer part Quee. We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so Ros. They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so. That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe. O that I knew he were but in by th' weeke, How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke, And wait the season, and obserue the times, And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes, And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice, And make him proud to make me proud that iests. So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state, That he shold be my foole, and I his fate Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht, As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd: Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole, And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole? Ros. The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse, As grauities reuolt to wantons be Mar. Follie in Fooles beares not so strong a note, As fool'ry in the Wise, when Wit doth dote: Since all the power thereof it doth apply, To proue by Wit, worth in simplicitie. Enter Boyet. Qu. Heere comes Boyet, and mirth in his face Boy. O I am stab'd with laughter, Wher's her Grace? Qu. Thy newes Boyet? Boy. Prepare Madame, prepare. Arme Wenches arme, incounters mounted are, Against your Peace, Loue doth approach, disguis'd: Armed in arguments, you'll be surpriz'd. Muster your Wits, stand in your owne defence, Or hide your heads like Cowards, and flie hence Qu. Saint Dennis to S[aint]. Cupid: What are they, That charge their breath against vs? Say scout say Boy. Vnder the coole shade of a Siccamore, I thought to close mine eyes some halfe an houre: When lo to interrupt my purpos'd rest, Toward that shade I might behold addrest, The King and his companions: warely I stole into a neighbour thicket by, And ouer-heard, what you shall ouer-heare: That by and by disguis'd they will be heere. Their Herald is a pretty knauish Page: That well by heart hath con'd his embassage, Action and accent did they teach him there. Thus must thou speake, and thus thy body beare. And euer and anon they made a doubt, Presence maiesticall would put him out: For quoth the King, an Angell shalt thou see: Yet feare not thou, but speake audaciously. The Boy reply'd, An Angell is not euill: I should haue fear'd her, had she beene a deuill. With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder, Making the bold wagg by their praises bolder. One rub'd his elboe thus, and fleer'd, and swore, A better speech was neuer spoke before. Another with his finger and his thumb, Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come. The third he caper'd and cried, All goes well. The fourth turn'd on the toe, and downe he fell: With that they all did tumble on the ground, With such a zelous laughter so profound, That in this spleene ridiculous appeares, To checke their folly passions solemne teares Que. But what, but what, come they to visit vs? Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Muscouites; or Russians, as I gesse. Their purpose is to parlee, to court, and dance, And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance, Vnto his seuerall mistresse: which they'll know By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt: For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt, And not a man of them shall haue the grace Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face. Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare, And then the King will court thee for his Deare: Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine, So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline. And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent? Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs: They doe it but in mocking merriment, And mocke for mocke is onely my intent. Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall, To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall. Vpon the next occasion that we meete, With Visages displayd to talke and greete Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't? Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot, Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart, And quite diuorce his memory from his part Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt, The rest will ere come in, if he be out. Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne: To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne. So shall we stay mocking entended game, And they well mockt, depart away with shame. Sound. Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers come. Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the rest of the Lords disguised. Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes. The Ladies turne their backes to him. Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes. Out Boy. True, out indeed Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe Not to beholde Ber. Once to behold, rogue Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes, With your Sunne beamed eyes Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite, you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue Rosa. What would these strangers? Know their mindes Boyet. If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will That some plaine man recount their purposes. Know what they would? Boyet. What would you with the Princes? Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation Ros. What would they, say they? Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation Rosa. Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon Boy. She saies you haue it, and you may be gon Kin. Say to her we haue measur'd many miles, To tread a Measure with you on the grasse Boy. They say that they haue measur'd many a mile, To tread a Measure with you on this grasse Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie, The measure then of one is easlie told Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles, And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell, How many inches doth fill vp one mile? Ber. Tell her we measure them by weary steps Boy. She heares her selfe Rosa. How manie wearie steps, Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone, Are numbred in the trauell of one mile? Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you, Our dutie is so rich, so infinite, That we may doe it still without accompt. Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of your face, That we (like sauages) may worship it Rosa. My face is but a Moone and clouded too Kin. Blessed are clouds, to doe as such clouds do. Vouchsafe bright Moone, and these thy stars to shine, (Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne Rosa. O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter, Thou now requests but Mooneshine in the water Kin. Then in our measure, vouchsafe but one change. Thou bidst me begge, this begging is not strange Rosa. Play musicke then: nay you must doe it soone. Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moone Kin. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? Rosa. You tooke the Moone at full, but now shee's changed? Kin. Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man Rosa. The musick playes, vouchsafe some motion to it: Our eares vouchsafe it Kin. But your legges should doe it Ros. Since you are strangers, & come here by chance, Wee'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance Kin. Why take you hands then? Rosa. Onelie to part friends. Curtsie sweet hearts, and so the Measure ends Kin. More measure of this measure, be not nice Rosa. We can afford no more at such a price Kin. Prise your selues: What buyes your companie? Rosa. Your absence onelie Kin. That can neuer be Rosa. Then cannot we be bought: and so adue, Twice to your Visore, and halfe once to you Kin. If you denie to dance, let's hold more chat Ros. In priuate then Kin. I am best pleas'd with that Be. White handed Mistris, one sweet word with thee Qu. Hony, and Milke, and Suger: there is three Ber. Nay then two treyes, an if you grow so nice Methegline, Wort, and Malmsey; well runne dice: There's halfe a dozen sweets Qu. Seuenth sweet adue, since you can cogg, Ile play no more with you Ber. One word in secret Qu. Let it not be sweet Ber. Thou greeu'st my gall Qu. Gall, bitter Ber. Therefore meete Du. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? Mar. Name it Dum. Faire Ladie: Mar. Say you so? Faire Lord: Take you that for your faire Lady Du. Please it you, As much in priuate, and Ile bid adieu Mar. What, was your vizard made without a tong? Long. I know the reason Ladie why you aske Mar. O for your reason, quickly sir, I long Long. You haue a double tongue within your mask, And would affoord my speechlesse vizard halfe Mar. Veale quoth the Dutch-man: is not Veale a Calfe? Long. A Calfe faire Ladie? Mar. No, a faire Lord Calfe Long. Let's part the word Mar. No, Ile not be your halfe: Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe Long. Looke how you but your selfe in these sharpe mockes. Will you giue hornes chast Ladie? Do not so Mar. Then die a Calfe before your horns do grow Lon. One word in priuate with you ere I die Mar. Bleat softly then, the Butcher heares you cry Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the Razors edge, inuisible: Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene, Aboue the sense of sence so sensible: Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings, Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things Rosa. Not one word more my maides, breake off, breake off Ber. By heauen, all drie beaten with pure scoffe King. Farewell madde Wenches, you haue simple wits. Exeunt. Qu. Twentie adieus my frozen Muscouits. Are these the breed of wits so wondred at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweete breathes puft out Rosa. Wel-liking wits they haue, grosse, grosse, fat, fat Qu. O pouertie in wit, Kingly poore flout. Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night? Or euer but in vizards shew their faces: This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite Rosa. They were all in lamentable cases. The King was weeping ripe for a good word Qu. Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword: No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute Ka. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart: And trow you what he call'd me? Qu. Qualme perhaps Kat. Yes in good faith Qu. Go sicknesse as thou art Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps, But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne Qu. And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me Kat. And Longauill was for my seruice borne Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree Boyet. Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare, Immediately they will againe be heere In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be, They will digest this harsh indignitie Qu. Will they returne? Boy. They will they will, God knowes, And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes: Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire, Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire Qu. How blow? how blow? Speake to bee vnderstood Boy. Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud: Dismaskt, their damaske sweet commixture showne, Are Angels vailing clouds, or Roses blowne Qu. Auant perplexitie: What shall we do, If they returne in their owne shapes to wo? Rosa. Good Madam, if by me you'l be aduis'd. Let's mocke them still as well knowne as disguis'd: Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare, Disguis'd like Muscouites in shapelesse geare: And wonder what they were, and to what end Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildely pen'd: And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our Tent to vs Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand Quee. Whip to our Tents, as Roes runnes ore Land. Exeunt. Enter the King and the rest. King. Faire sir, God saue you. Wher's the Princesse? Boy. Gone to her Tent. Please it your Maiestie command me any seruice to her? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word Boy. I will, and so will she, I know my Lord. Enter. Ber. This fellow pickes vp wit as Pigeons pease, And vtters it againe, when Ioue doth please. He is Wits Pedler, and retailes his Wares, At Wakes, and Wassels, Meetings, Markets, Faires. And we that sell by grosse, the Lord doth know, Haue not the grace to grace it with such show. This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue. Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eue. He can carue too, and lispe: Why this is he, That kist away his hand in courtesie. This is the Ape of Forme, Monsieur the nice, That when he plaies at Tables, chides the Dice In honorable tearmes: Nay he can sing A meane most meanly, and in Vshering Mend him who can: the Ladies call him sweete. The staires as he treads on them kisse his feete. This is the flower that smiles on euerie one, To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone. And consciences that wil not die in debt, Pay him the dutie of honie-tongued Boyet King. A blister on his sweet tongue with my hart, That put Armathoes Page out of his part. Enter the Ladies. Ber. See where it comes. Behauiour what wer't thou, Till this madman shew'd thee? And what art thou now? King. All haile sweet Madame, and faire time of day Qu. Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceiue King. Construe my speeches better, if you may Qu. Then wish me better, I wil giue you leaue King. We came to visit you, and purpose now To leade you to our Court, vouchsafe it then Qu. This field shal hold me, and so hold your vow: Nor God, nor I, delights in periur'd men King. Rebuke me not for that which you prouoke: The vertue of your eie must breake my oth Q. You nickname vertue: vice you should haue spoke: For vertues office neuer breakes men troth. Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure As the vnsallied Lilly, I protest, A world of torments though I should endure, I would not yeeld to be your houses guest: So much I hate a breaking cause to be Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie Kin. O you haue liu'd in desolation heere, Vnseene, vnuisited, much to our shame Qu. Not so my Lord, it is not so I sweare, We haue had pastimes heere, and pleasant game, A messe of Russians left vs but of late Kin. How Madam? Russians? Qu. I in truth, my Lord. Trim gallants, full of Courtship and of state Rosa. Madam speake true. It is not so my Lord: My Ladie (to the manner of the daies) In curtesie giues vndeseruing praise. We foure indeed confronted were with foure In Russia habit: Heere they stayed an houre, And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord) They did not blesse vs with one happy word. I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke, When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke Ber. This iest is drie to me. Gentle sweete, Your wits makes wise things foolish when we greete With eies best seeing, heauens fierie eie: By light we loose light; your capacitie Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore, Wise things seeme foolish, and rich things but poore Ros. This proues you wise and rich: for in my eie Ber. I am a foole, and full of pouertie Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue Ber. O, I am yours, and all that I possesse Ros. All the foole mine Ber. I cannot giue you lesse Ros. Which of the Vizards what it that you wore? Ber. Where? when? What Vizard? Why demand you this? Ros. There, then, that vizard, that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face Kin. We are discried, They'l mocke vs now downeright Du. Let vs confesse, and turne it to a iest Que. Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes sadde? Rosa. Helpe hold his browes, hee'l sound: why looke you pale? Sea-sicke I thinke comming from Muscouie Ber. Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury. Can any face of brasse hold longer out? Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me, Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout. Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance. Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit: And I will wish thee neuer more to dance, Nor neuer more in Russian habit waite. O! neuer will I trust to speeches pen'd, Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue. Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend, Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue, Taffata phrases, silken tearmes precise, Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection; Figures pedanticall, these summer flies, Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation. I do forsweare them, and I heere protest, By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows) Henceforth my woing minde shall be exprest In russet yeas, and honest kersie noes. And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law, My loue to thee is sound, sans cracke or flaw, Rosa. Sans, sans, I pray you Ber. Yet I haue a tricke Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke. Ile leaue it by degrees: soft, let vs see, Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three, They are infected, in their hearts it lies: They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes: These Lords are visited, you are not free: For the Lords tokens on you do I see Qu. No, they are free that gaue these tokens to vs Ber. Our states are forfeit, seeke not to vndo vs Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue Ber. Peace, for I will not haue to do with you Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend Ber. Speake for your selues, my wit is at an end King. Teach vs sweete Madame, for our rude transgression, some faire excuse Qu. The fairest is confession. Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd? Kin. Madam, I was Qu. And were you well aduis'd? Kin. I was faire Madam Qu. When you then were heere, What did you whisper in your Ladies eare? King. That more then all the world I did respect her Qu. When shee shall challenge this, you will reiect her King. Vpon mine Honor no Qu. Peace, peace, forbeare: Your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare King. Despise me when I breake this oath of mine Qu. I will, and therefore keepe it. Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your eare? Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me deare As precious eye-sight, and did value me Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer, That he would Wed me, or else die my Louer Qu. God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord Most honorably doth vphold his word King. What meane you Madame? By my life, my troth I neuer swore this Ladie such an oth Ros. By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine, You gaue me this: But take it sir againe King. My faith and this, the Princesse I did giue, I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue Qu. Pardon me sir, this Iewell did she weare. And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare. What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe? Ber. Neither of either, I remit both twaine. I see the tricke on't: Heere was a consent, Knowing aforehand of our merriment, To dash it like a Christmas Comedie. Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Zanie, Some mumble-newes, some trencher-knight, som Dick That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd; Told our intents before: which once disclos'd, The Ladies did change Fauours; and then we Following the signes, woo'd but the signe of she. Now to our periurie, to adde more terror, We are againe forsworne in will and error. Much vpon this tis: and might not you Forestall our sport, to make vs thus vntrue? Do not you know my Ladies foot by'th squier? And laugh vpon the apple of her eie? And stand betweene her backe sir, and the fire, Holding a trencher, iesting merrilie? You put our Page out: go, you are alowd. Die when you will, a smocke shall be your shrowd. You leere vpon me, do you? There's an eie Wounds like a Leaden sword

Related documents

• Love's Labour's Lost#822888
• Love's Labour's Lost#822704
• Love's Labour's Lost#822656
• The Royal End: A Romance#55138
• Leading an Emotional Life#92086