Prin. And will they fo? the gallants fhall be tafk'd; Hold, Rofaline; this favour thou shalt wear, And change your favours too; fo fhall your loves Rof Come on then, wear the favours moft in fight. Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to’t? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot; Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the fpeaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part. Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, There's no fuch fport, as fport by fport o'erthrown, And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Sound. Boyet. The trumpet founds; be mask'd, the maskers come. SCENE V. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and attendants, difguis'd like Mufcovites; Moth with mufic, as for a mufquerade. Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth! VOL. II. Boget. Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffata. ́ Out [The ladies turn their backs to him. Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. Biron. True: out, indeed. Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold. Biron. Once to behold, rogue. Moth. Once to behold with your fun-beamed eyes— With your fun-beamed eyes Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. If they do fpeak our language, 'tis our will Boyet. What would you with the Princefs? Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation. Boyet. They fay, that they have meafur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grafs, Rof. It is not fo. Ask them, how many inches Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many, The measure then of one is easily told. Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles, Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. Rof. How many weary steps Of many weary miles you have o'ergone, Are number'd in the travel of one mile? Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you; Our duty is fo rich, fo infinite, That we may do it ftill without accompt. Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. Rof. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter; Thou now requeft'ft but moonshine in the water. King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change; Thou bid'ft me beg, this begging is not strange. Rof. Play, mufic, then; nay, you must do it foon, Not yet? no dance? thus change I, like the moon. King. Will you not dance? how come you thus efrang'd? Rof. You took the moon at full, but now she's chang'd. King. Yet ftill fhe is the moon, and I the man. The mufic plays, vouchsafe some motion to it. Rof. Our ears vouchsafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Rof. Since you are ftrangers, and come here by chance, We'll not be nice; take hands;—we will not dance. King. Why take you hands then! Rof. Only to part friends; Court'fy, fweet hearts, and fo the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. King. Prize yourfelves then; what buys your company? King. That can never be. Rof. Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you. King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. King. I am beft pleas'd with that. R 2 Biron. Biron. White-handed mistress, one fweet word with thee. Prin. Honey, and milk, and fugar, there is three. Biron. Nay then, two treys; and if you grow fo nice, Methegline, wort, and malmsey;- -well run, dice: There's half a dozen sweets. Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu; Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. Biron. One word in fecret. Prin. Let it not be sweet. Biron. Thou griev't my gall. Prin. Gall? bitter Biron. Therefore meet. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? Mar. Name it. Dum. Fair Lady, Mar. Say you fo? fair Lord: Take that for your fair Lady. Dum. Please it you; As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. Cath. What, was your visor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reafon, Lady, why you afk. Cath. O, for your reason! quickly, Sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mafk, And would afford my fpeechlefs vizor half. Cath. Veal, quoth the Dutch-man; is not veal a calf? Long. A calf, fair Lady? Cath. No, a fair Lord calf. Long. Let's part the word. Cath. No, I'll not be your half; Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these fharp mocks! Will you give horns, chafte Lady? do not fo. Cath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Above the fense of sensible, so sensible Seemetk Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, fwifter things. Rof. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure fcoff.— King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have fimple wits. [Exeunt King and Lords. SCENE VI. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Mufcovites. Are these the breed of wits fo wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are with your sweet breaths puff'd out. Rof. Well-liking wits they have; grofs, grofs; fat, fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor flout! Prin. Qualm, perhaps. Cath. Yes, in good faith. Prin. Go, fickness as thou art! Rof. Well, better wits have worn plain ftatute-caps. R 3 Prin. |