Your oaths are past, and now fubfcribe your names ; If you are arm'd to do as fworn to do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep them too. Long. I am refolv'd; 'tis but a three years' fast: Biron. I can but fay their proteftation over, King. Your oath is past to pass away from these. What What is the end of study? let me know. King. Why, that to know which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense. King. Ay, that is ftudy's godlike recompence. Biron. Come on then, I will fwear to ftudy fo, To know the thing I am forbid to know: Study knows that which yet it doth not know : King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain To feek the light of truth, while truth the while Light, feeking light, doth light of light beguile; Who dazling fo, that eye fhall be his heed, And give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious fun, That will not be deep fearch'd with faucy looks; VOL. II. M } Have Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than thofe that walk, and wot not what they are. King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Biron. Fit in his place and time. Dum. In reason nothing. Biron. Something then in rhyme. Long. Biron is like an envious fneaping froft, That bites the firft-born infants of the spring. Biron. Well, fay, I am; why fhould proud fummer boast, Before the birds have any caufe to fing? Why fhould I joy in an abortive birth? At chriftmas I no more defire a rofe, Than wish a snow in may's newfangled earth: But like of each thing that in season grows. So you, to study now it is too late, Climb o'er the house t'unlock the little gate. King. Well, fit you out. Go home, Biron: adieu, And though I have for barbarism spoke more, Than for that angel knowledge you can fay, Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore, And bide the penance of each three years' day. Give me the paper, let me read the fame, And to the ftrict'ft decrees I'll write my name. King. How well this yielding refcues thee from shame! Biron. Item, That no woman fhall come within a mile of my court. Hath this been proclaimed? Long. Four days ago. Biron. Let's fee the penalty. [reading. On Long. Marry, that did I. [reading. Biron. Sweet lord, and why? Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. Item, [reading.] If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he fhall endure fuch publick shame as the rest of the court can poffibly devise. This article, my liege, yourself must break; For, well you know, here comes in embaffy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak," About furrender up of Aquitain To her decrepit, fick, and bedrid father: Therefore this article is made in vain, Or vainly comes th' admired princess hither. King. What fay you, lords? why, this was quite forgot. While it doth ftudy to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it fhould: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won, as towns with fire; fo won, fo loft. Biron. Neceffity will make us all forfworn Three thousand times within this three years' space: For every man with his affects is born: Not by might mafter'd, but by special grace. If I break faith, this word shall speak for me, I am forfworn on mere necessity. So to the laws at large I write my name; Suggestions are to others, as to me; M 2 But, But, I believe, although I seem so loath, I am the last that will last keep his oath. King. Ay, that there is; our court, you know, is haunted A man in all the world's new fashions planted, A man of compliments, whom right and wrong For interim to our studies, fhall relate Biron. Armado is a moft illuftrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. SCENE II. Enter Dull, and Coftard, with a letter. Dull. Which is the king's own person? Biron. This, fellow; what would'ft? Dull. I myself reprehend his own perfon, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would fee his own person in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he. Dull. Signior Arme, Arme, commends you. There's villany abroad; this letter will tell you more. Coft. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. |