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For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say, no?

short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
Fr. Yes, madam, fair.

Nay, never paint me now; Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. Ilere, 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!

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.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. To the prince, and his book-inates.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
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-sove-

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Thine, in the dearest design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lien 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 this letter?

What vane! what weathercock! did you ever hear better?

Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style.

Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;

Prin. What's your will, sir? what's your will? Cost. I have a letter from monsieur Biron, to one lady Rosaline.

Prin. 0, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend

of mine:

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, most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fuir, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! Tre magnanimous and most illustrate king Copbetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate bezgar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (0 base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one;

, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king: Why dit he come? to see: Why did he see? to Overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar: What saw he? the beggar: Who overcame he? the beszar: the conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: The captive is enriched; On whose nte? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whose side? the king's?-no, on both in one or one in both. 1am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy loveliness. Shall I command thy love? 1 may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for Tags? robes; For titles, tilles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profune my lips on thy fel, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.

God give you good even.

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport

Who gave thee this letter?
I told you; my lord.
Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it'
From my lord to my lady.
Prin. From which lord, to which lady?
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of

To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken this letter.

Boyet. Ay, my Ros.

Thou, fellow, a word:


lords, away.


Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another [Exit Princess and Train. Boyet. Who is the suitor who is the suitor! Shall I teach you to know? continent of beauty.


Why, she that bears the bow

Boyet. My lady marry,

goes to kill horns; but, if thou

Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry
Finely put on!

Ros. Well then, I am the shooter.
And who is your deer?
Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come


Finely put off!

Finely put on, indeed!

Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.

Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her now?

Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

Bovel. 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. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it; [Singing.
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
Boyet. 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! Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, says my lady! Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be. Mar. Wide o' the bow hand! I'faith, your hand

is out. Cost. Indeed, a'must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.

Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand is in.

Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul.

Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her to bowl.

Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; Good night, my good owl. [Exeunt BoYET and MARIA. Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!

O' my troth, most sweet jest! most incony vulgar wit!

• Just now.

When it comie: so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it
were, so fit.

Armatho o' the one side,-0, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan!
To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly
a' will swear!-

And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
Sola, sola!

[Shouting within.
[Exit CoSTARD, running.
SCENE II.-The same.
Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in
the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,blood; ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cœlo,-the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,-the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor d by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth.

Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facer, as it were, replication, or, rather ost- Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they entare, to show, as it were, his inclination,-after shall want no instruction: if their daughters be cahis undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, pable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui untrained, or rather unletterd, or, ratherest, un-pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us. confirmed fashion,-to insert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus!-O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts;

And such barren plants are set before us, that we

thankful should be (Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts that do fructify in us more than he. For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool,

So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school:

But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind.
Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.
Dull. You two are bookmen: Can you tell by

your wit,
What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not
five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull.

Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam

was no more;

And raught not to five weeks, when he come to
The allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allunon holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I say the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess kill'd.

The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket;

Some say a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting.

The dogs did yell; put L to sore, then sorel jumps
from thicket;

Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a
If sore, be sure, then L to sore makes fifty sores:
O sore L!

Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but
one more L.

Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revo lutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver d upon the mellowing of occasion: But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thank

ful for it.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humor the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the princess kill'd a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility. Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility.

A species of apple.

To render some of the allusions in this scene intelligible to persons who are not acquainted with the language of park-keepers and foresters, it may be necessary to mention, that a fawn, when it is a year old, is called by them a pricket; when it is two years old, it is a sorel; when it is three years old, it is a sore; when it is four years, it is a buck of the first head; at five years, it is an A low fellow. • Reached.

old buck.

Jaq. God give you good morrow, master parson.
Hol. Master person, quasi pers-on. And if one
should be pierced, which is the one?

Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth: fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me

this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sen!
me from Don Armatho: I beseech you, read it.
Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne
sub umbra,
Ruminat,—and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan:
I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice!
-Vinegia, Vinegia,

Chi non te vede, ei non te pregia.
Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth
thee not, loves thee not.-Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.-
Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or, rather,
as Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses?
Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, domine.

Nath. Reads.] If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?

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All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without won

der; (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;)

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,

Which not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. That sings heaven's pruise with such an earthly Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong,


Hol. You find not the apostrophe, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horses his rider. But damosella virgin, was this directed to you? • Attired, caparisoned

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Cost. Have with thee, my girl. [Exeunt CoST. and JAQ. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God. very religiously; and, as a certain father saith

Hot. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colorable colors. But, to return to the verses; Did they please you, sir Nathaniel?

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hl. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savoring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society. Nath. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text,) is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly coneludes it.-Sir, TO DULL.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our [Exeunt. SCENE III-Another part of the Park.


Enter BIRON, with a paper.

Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am Coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch; pitch the defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so, they say, the fool said, and so say 1, and I the fool.Well proved, wit! By the lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; faith, I will not. O, but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in: Here comes one with a paper; give him grace to groan!


[Gets up into a tree. Enter the KING, with a paper. King. Ah me!

Biron. 4side.] Shot, by heaven!-Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap:-l'faith secrets.

King. [Reads. So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The might of dew that on my cheeks down flows: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright

Through the transparent bosom of the deed, A doth thy face through tears of mine give light; Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep: No drop, but as a coach doth carry thee,

So ridest thou triumphing in my woe; Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will show. But do not love thyself; then tho' will keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel! No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.

■ In truth.

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This same shall go.-
[He reads the sonnet.

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye
(Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument)
Persuade my heart to this false pe jury?


Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment. woman I forswore; out, I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My row was earthy, thone a heavenly love; Vows are but breath, and breath a vapor is: Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.

Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth doth shine, Exhal'st this vapor vow; in thee it is: If broken, then, it is no fault of mine: If by me broken, what fool is not so wise, To lose an oath to win a paradise?

Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity;

A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the way.

Enter DUMAIN, with a paper. Long. By whom shall I send this?-Company! stay. [Stepping aside. Biron. Aside.] All hid, all hid, an old infant play:

Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye.
More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my
Dumain transform'd: four woodcocks in a dish!
Dum. O most divine Kate!

O most profane coxcomb! Aside. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie. Aside. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted.s Biron. An amber-color'd raven was well noted. [Aside.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.

Her shoulder is with child.

Stoop, I say; [Aside. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine. [Aside.

Dum. O that I had my wish!

And I had mine!

King. And I mine too, good lord!
Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good



Dum. 1 would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Biron. A fever in your blood, why then incision Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision! [Aside. Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.

2 Outstripped, surpassed.


Soft; Whither away so fast! A true man, or a thief, that gallops so? Biron. I post from love; good lover, let me go Enter JAQUENETTA and CoSTARD.

Jaq. God bless the king!

What makes treason here?

What present hast thou there? Cost. Some certain treason. King. Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. King. If it mar nothing neither, The treason, and you, go in peace away together. Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read, Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over.

[Giving him the letter.

Where hadst thou it?

Jaq. Of Costard.

King, Where hadst thou it?

Cost. Of Dun Adamadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it?

Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs not fear it.

Long. It did move him to passion, and therefor let's hear it.

Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. [Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, To CosTARD.] you were born to do me shame.Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess. King. What?

Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess: He, he, and you, my liege, and I, O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. Dum. Now the number is even. Biron.

True, true; we are four

Will these turtles be gone?

Hence, sirs; away. Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt CoST. and JAQ. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us embrace!

As true we are, as flesh and blood can be: The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; Young blood will not obey an old decree : We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands must we be forsworn. King. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?

Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary | When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme!

[Aside. Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb ?-


Dun.. On a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing, in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alack, my hand is sworn,
Neer to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,

That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom even Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop were;

And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.-

This will I send; and something else more plain,
That shall express my true love's fasting pain.
O would the King, Biron, and Longaville,
Were lovers too! Ill to example ill.
Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note;
For none offend, where all alike do dote.

Long. Dumain, Advancing.] thy love is far
from charity,

That in love's griet desir'st society:
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o'erheard, and taken napping so.

King. Come, sir, Advancing.] you blush; as
his your case is such;

You chide at him, offending twice as much:
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom, to keep down his heart?
I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion;
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
Ah me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
Cue, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
You would for paradise break faith and troth;
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
What will Biron say, when that he shall hear
A faith infring'd which such a zeal did swear?
How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that ever I did see,

I would not have him know so much by me.

Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.-
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me :
[Descends from the tree.
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
There is no certain princess that appears:
You'll not be perjur'd, 'tis a hateful 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 o'ershot?
You found his mote; the king your mote did see;
But I a beam do find in each of three.
( what a scene of foolery I have seen,

Of sighs, of groang, of sorrow, and of teen !
O me,
with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gigg,
And profound Solomon to tune a jigg,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Tinon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief. O tell me, good Dumain?
And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain!
And where my liege's? all about the breast:-
A candle, ho!

Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you;
I. that am honest; I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in!
I am betray'd, by keeping company
With moon-like men of strange inconstancy.


• Cynic.

Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, heavenly Rosaline,

At the first opening of the gorgeous east, Bows not his vassal head; and, strucken blind,

Kisses the base ground with obedient breast!
What peremptory eagle-sighted eye

Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
That is not blinded by her majesty?

King. What zeal, what fury hath inspired thee

My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon:

She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron:
O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty

Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek;
Where several worthies make one dignity;

Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues—

Fye, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not; To things of sale a seller's praise belongs;

She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot
A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,

Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,

And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
O, 'tis the sun, that maketh all things shine!
King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.

In trimming myself.

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Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to yourself,
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
Then, when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
Do we not likewise see our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forsworn our books;
For when would you, my hege, or you, or you
In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Or beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore finding barren practisers,
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil:
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But, with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their officers.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye;
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind,
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd;
Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible,
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails;
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste
For valor, is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet, and musical,
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And, when Love speaks, the voice or all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sigh;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
Froni women's eyes this doctrine 1 derive:
'They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world;
Else none at all in aught proves excellent:
Then fools you were these women to forswear;
Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove tools.
For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love;
Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men;"
Or for men's sake, the authors of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men:
Dum. Ay, marry, there, some flattery for this Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion to be thus forsworn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;

The street should see as she walk'd over head.
King. But what of this? Are we not all in love!
Buron. Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.
King. Then leave this chat: and, good Biron,
now prove
Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.


And who can sever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!

Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them,

Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd,
In conflict that you get the sun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?

O, who can give an oath! where is a book!
That I may swear, beauty doin beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair, that is not full so black.
King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell.
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night;
And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well.
Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resemoling spirits
of light.

0, if in brack my lady's brows be deckt,

it mourns, that painting, and usurping hair,
Should ravish co.ers with a false aspect;

And therefore is she born to make black fair.
Her lavor turns the fashion of the days;

For native blood is counted painting now;
And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
Paints itself black, to unitate her brow.
Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweepers

Long. And, since her time, are colliers counted

King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion


Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is

Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain.
For fear their colors should be wash d away.
King. 'Twere good, yours did: for, sir, to tell
you plain,

I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day.
Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day

King. No devil will fright thee then so much as


Dum. 1 never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
Long. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her
face see.
[Showing his shoe.
Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine

Her feet were much too dainty for such tread!
Dum. O vile! then as she goes, what upward

Long. O, some authority how to proceed;
Some tricks, some quiltets, how to cheat the devil.
Dam. Some salve for perjury.

O, 'tis more than need!-
Have at you then, affection's men at arms:
Consider, what you first did swear unto;-
To fast.-to study, and to see no woman;-
Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? your stoinachs are too young
And abstinence engenders maladies.
And where that you have vow d to study, lords,
In that each of you nath forsworn his book:
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From women's eyes this doctrine 1 derive:
They are the ground, the books, the academes,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, universal plodding prisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries;
As motion, and long-during action, tires
The sinewy vigor of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forsworn the use of eyes;
And study too, the causer of your vow:
For where is any author in the world,

• Law-chicane.


King. And win them too: therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents.

Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them

Then, homeward, every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon

We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Fore-run fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away! no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.
Biron. Allons! Allons!-Sow'd cockle reap'd

no corn;

And justice always whirls in equal measure: Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn, If so, our copper buys no better treasure.


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