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Enter the King, Longueville, Dumain, Biron, and Attendants.
King. Fair Princefs, 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 wide fields, too bafe to be mine.
King. You fhall be welcome, Madam, to my Court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady, I have fworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forfworn. King. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will. Prin. Why,Will fhall break its will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
Prin. Were my lord fo, his ignorance were wife, Where now his knowledge muft prove ignorance. I hear, your Grace hath fworn out houfe-keeping: 'Tis deadly fin to keep that oath, my Lord; *And fin to break it.
But pardon me, I am too fudden bold':
To teach a teacher ill befeemeth me.
King. Madam, I will, if fuddenly I may.
Rof. How needlefs was it then to ask the question? Biron. You must not be fo quick.
Rof. 'Tis long of you, that fpur me with fuch questions.
Sir T. Hanmer reads not fin to break it. I believe erroneoufly. The Princess fhews an
inconvenience very frequently attending rafh oaths, which, whether kept or broken, produce guilt. K 3
Biron. Your wit's too hot, it fpeeds too faft, 'twill tire.
Rof. The hour, that fools fhould afk.
King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
Being but th' one half of an entire fum,
But fay, that he, or we, as neither have,
Although not valu'd to the mony's worth:
Which we much rather had depart withal,
Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is.
Dear princefs, were not his requests so far
From reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make
And go well fatisfied to France again.
Prin. You do the King my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name,
In fo unfeeming to confefs receipt
Of that, which hath fo faithfully been paid.
Prin. We arrest your word:
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
King. Satisfy me fo.
Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: To-morrow you fhall have a fight of them.
King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,
Mean time, receive fuch welcome at my hand,
Prin. Sweet health and fair defires confort your
King. Thy own Wish wish I thee, in every place.
varre declares, he had rather re- than detain the Province mortceive the Refidue of his Debt, gag'd for Security of it. THEOB.
Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Rof. I pray you, do my commendations;
I would be glad to fee it.
Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Rof. Is the fool fick ?
Biron. Sick at the heart.
Biron. Would that do it good?
Rof. My phyfick fays, ay.
Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?
Rof. Non, poynt, with my knife.
[Exit. Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame? Boyet. The heir of Alanfon, Rofaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady; Monfieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you, a word: what is the in white? Boyet. A woman fometimes, if you faw her in the light.
Long. Perchance, light in the light; Idefire her name. Boyet. She hath but one for herfelf; to defire That, were a fhame.
Long. Pray you, Sir, whofe daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
She is an heir of Faulconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choller is ended:
She is a moft fweet lady.
Boyet. Not unlike, Sir; that may be. [Exit Long. Biron, What's her name in the cap?
Boyet. Catharine, by good hap
Biron. Is the wedded, or no?
That is, mayft thou have fenfe and ferioufnefs more proportionate to thy beard, the
length of which fuits ill with fuch idle catches of wit.
Biron. You are welcome, Sir: adieu!
Boyet. Farewel to me, Sir, and welcome to you.
[Exit Biron. Mar. That laft is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jeft.
Boyet. And every jeft 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 fheeps, marry.
Boyet. And wherefore not fhips?
No fheep, fweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You fheep, and I pafture; fhall that finish the jest?
Boyet. So you grant pafture for me.
Mar. Not fo, gentle beaft;
My lips are no common, though feveral they be".
Mar. To my fortunes and me.
Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,"
The civil war of wits were much better us'd
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abus'd.
Prin. With what?
Boyet. With that which we lovers intitle affected.
7 My lips are not common though Several they are.] Several is an inclosed field of a private proprietor; fo Maria fays, her lips are private property. Of a Lord that was newly married
one obferved that he grew fat;