Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. And consciences, that will not die in debt, King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my That put Armado's page out of his part! Rustic merry-meetings. The tenor in musick. 2 The tooth of the horse-whale. Enter the Princess, usher'd by BOYET; ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants. Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what wert thou, Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now? King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave. King. We came to visit you; and purpose now To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your VOW: Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke; The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should have spoke ; For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied lily, I protest, A world of torments though I should endure, your house's guest: I would not yield to be So much I hate a breaking-cause to be Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity. Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear; We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game; A mess of Russians left us but of late. Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true:-It is not so, my lord; My lady, (to the manner of the days,)} In courtesy, gives undeserving praise. Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor. Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess. Ros. All the fool mine? Biron. I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this? Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. 3 After the fashion of the times. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now downright. Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad? Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?— Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for jury. Can any face of brass hold longer out? Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me; A per Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend ;4 Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song: Taffata phrases, silken terms precise, Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: I do forswear them: and I here protest, By this white glove, (how white the hand, God knows!) Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes: 4 Mistress. And, to begin wench,-so God help me, la!- Yet I have a trick Of the old rage:-bear with me, I am sick; They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes: Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us. Biron. Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end. King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression Some fair excuse. Prin. The fairest is confession. Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd? What did you whisper in your lady's ear? King. That more than all the world I did respect her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will re ject her. |