Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff fo dear.

Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot in her face fee.
Biron. O, if the ftreets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for fuch tread.
Dum. O vile! then as fhe goes, what upward lies
The street should fee as the walk'd over-head.
King. But what of this, are we not all in love?
Biron. Nothing so fure, and thereby all forfworn.
King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now
prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.

Dum. Ay, marry, there; -some flattery for this evil.
Long. O, fome authority how to proceed;

Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil.
Dum. Some falve for perjury.

Biron. O, 'tis more than need.

Have at you then, Affection's men at arms;
Confider what you first did fwear unto:
To faft, to ftudy, and to fee no woman;
Flat treafon 'gainft the kingly ftate of youth.
Say, can you faft? your ftomachs are too young:
And abftinence ingenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to study, (Lords,)
In that each of you hath forfworn his book,

Can you ftill dream, and

pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my Lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of ftudy's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?

Why, univerfal plodding prifons up
The nimble fpirits in the arteries;
As motion and long-during action tires
The finewy vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forfworn the ufe of eyes;
And study too, the caufer of your vow.
For where is any author in the world
Teaches fuch duty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself;
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
Then, when ourselves we fee in ladies' eyes,
Do we not likewife fee our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, Lords;
Q 2

And

And in that vow we have forfworn our books:
For when would you, my Liege, or you, or you
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other flow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore finding barren practisers,
Scarce fhew a harvest of their heavy toik
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 offices.

It adds a precious feeing to the eye:

A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind! A lover's ear will hear the loweft found, • When the fufpicious head of theft is stopt. 'Love's feeling is more soft and fenfible, "Than are the tender horns of cockled fnails.'

Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus grofs in taste;
For valour, is not Love a Hercules,

Still climbing trees in the Hefperides?
Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical
As bright Apollo's lute, ftrung with his hair:
And when Love speaks the voice of all the gods,
Mark, heaven drowfy with the harmony!
Never durft poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with Love's fighs;
O then his lines would ravish favage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility,
From womens' eyes this doctrine I derive:
They fparkle ftill the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academies,
That fhew, contain, and nourish all the world;
Elfe none at all in aught proves excellent.
Then fools you were these women to forfwear:
Or, keeping what is fworn, you will prove fools.
For Wifdom's fake, (a word that all men love )
Or for Love's fake, (a word all women love;)
Or for mens' fake, (the author of these women;)
Or womens' fake, (by whom we men are men:)

Let

Let us once lofe our oaths to find ourselves;

Or elfe we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
It is religion to be thus forfworn,

For charity itself fulfils the law:

And who can fever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, foldiers, to the field! Biron. Advance your ftandards, and upon them, Lords; Pell-mell, down with them; but be first advis'd,

In conflict that you get the fun of them.

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

King. And win them too; therefore let us devife

Some entertainment for them in their tents.

Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them thither; Then homeward every man attach the hand.

Of his fair miftrefs; in the afternoon

We will with fome ftrange paftime folace them,
Such as the shortnefs of the time can shape:
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Forerun fair love, ftrewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away! no time fhall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.

Biron. Allons! Allons! fown cockle reap'd no corn;"
And juftice always whirls in equal measure:

Light wenches may prove plagues to men forfworn;
If fo, our copper buys no better treasure.

ACT V. SCENE E

The fireet:

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, and Dull.

Hol. SATIS, quod fufficit.

[Exeunt.

Nath. I praife God for you, Sir, your reafons at dinner have been fharp and fententious; pleafant without feurrility, witty without affectation, audacious about impudency, learned without opinion, and range wi herefy. I did converfe this quondam day with a co

nion of the King's, who is intitled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem, tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his difcourfe peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate majeftical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrafonical. He is too piqued, too fpruce, too affected, too odd, as it were; too peregrinate, as I may call it.

Nath. A moft fingular and choice epithet.

[Draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbofity finer than the ftaple of his argument. I abhor fuch fanatical phantafms, fuch infociable and point-devife companions, fuch rackers of orthography, as to fpeak, dout, fine, when he fhould fay, doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abbreviated ne. This is abominable, which we would call abhominable: it infinuateth me of infanity: Ne intelligis, Domine, to make frantic, lunatic?

Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo.

Hol. Bone?bone, for benè; Prifcian a little ferateh'd; 'twill ferve..

SCENE II. Enter Armado, Math, and Coftard..

Nath. Videfne quis venit?

Hol. Video, gaudeo..

Arm. Chirra.

Hol. Quare chirra, not firrah?

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd.

Hol. Molt military Sir, falutation.

Moth. They have been at a great feaft of languages, and ftole the fcraps.

Coft. O, they have liv'd long on the alms-bafket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not fo long by the head as honorif sabilitudinitatibust thou art eafier fwallow'd than a flapdragon.

Moth. Peace, the peal begins.

Arm. Monfieur, are you not letter'd??

Moth

Moth. Yes, yes, he teaches boys the horn-book: What is A B fpelt backward with a horn on his head? Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba, moft filly fheep, with a horn. You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou confonant?

Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, I.—

Math. The fheep; the other two concludes it, o, u. Arm. Now, by the falt wave of the Mediterraneum, a fweet touch, a quick venew of wit; fnip, fnap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect; true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man: which is: wit-old.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?

Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou difputest like an infant; go, whip thy gigg. Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will' whip about your infamy circùm circà, a gigg of a cuc kold's horn.

Coft. An I had but one penny in the world, thou fhouldft have it to buy ginger-bread; hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy mafter, thou halfpenny purfe of wit, thou pidgeon-egg of difcretion. O, that the heav'ns were fo pleafed, that thou wert but my baftard! what a joyful father wouldft thou make me? go to, thou haft it ad dunghill; at the finger's ends, ast they fay.

Hol. O, I fmell falfe Latin, dunghill for unguem.

Arm Arts-man, præambula; we will be fingled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the chargehoufe on the top of the mountain?

Hol. Or mons the hill.

Arm. At your fweet pleafure, for the mountain.'
Hol. I do, fans queftion.

Arm. Sir, it is the King's moft fweet pleafure and affection, to congratulate the Princess at her pavilion, in the pofteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol. The pofterior of the day, moft generous Sir, is. Hable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon :

the