SCENE II.

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.
Vouchsafe to read the purpofe of my Coming,
And fuddenly refolve me in my fuit.

King. Madam, I will, if fuddenly I may.
Prin. You will the fooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me ftay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ref. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know, you did.

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.

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it fpeeds too faft, 'twill tire.
Rof. Not 'till it leave the rider in the mire. 150
Biron. What time o'day?

Rof. The hour, that fools fhould afk.
Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Rof. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And fend you many lovers!
Rof. Amen, fo you be none!
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment
of a hundred thoufand crowns;

Being but th' one half of an entire fum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But fay, that he, or we, as neither have,
Receiv'd that fum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in furety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

t

Although not valu'd to the mony's worth:
If then the King your father will restore
But that one half which is unfatisfy'd,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his Majefty:
But that, it seems, he little purpofeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
An hundred thousand crowns, and not demands,
On payment of an hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

1

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,

Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is.

Dear princefs, were not his requests so far

From reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make
A yielding 'gainst fome reafon in my breaft;

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.
King. I do proteft, I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arrest your word:

Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For fuch a fum, from fpecial officers
Of Charles his father.

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,
All liberal reafon I will yield unto:

Mean time, receive fuch welcome at my hand,
As honour without breach of honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthiness.
You may not come, fair Princess, in my gates;
But here, without, you fhall be fo receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Tho' fo deny'd fair harbour in my houfe:
Your own good thoughts excufe me, and farewel;
To-morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair defires confort your
Grace!

King. Thy own Wish wish I thee, in every place.

[Exit.

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.
Rof. Alack, let it blood.

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.
Biron. Now God fave thy life!;
Rof. And yours from long living!
Biron. I can't ftay thanksgiving.

[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.
Long. God's bleffing on your beard!*
Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended.

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?
Boyet. To her will, Sir, or fo.

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".
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,"

agree.

The civil war of wits were much better us'd

On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abus'd.
Boyet. If my obfervation, which very feldom lies,
By the heart's ftill rhetorick, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers intitle affected.
Prin. Your reason?

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;
Yes, faid Sir Walter Raleigh, any
beaft will grow fat, if you take
him from the common and graze
him in the several.

Boyet.