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Prin. And will they fo? the gallants shall be talk'd; For, Ladies, we will every one be mask'd: And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despight of fuit, to see a lady's face. Hold, Rosaline; this favour thou shalt wear, And then the King will court thee for his dear: Hold, take you this, my sweet, and give me thine; So shall Biron take me for Rosaline, And change your favours too; so shall your

loves Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Ros Come on then, wear the favours most in fight.
Cath. But in this changing, what is your intent?

Prin. Th'effect of my intent is to cross theirs ;
They do it but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several councils they unbofom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal,
Upon the next occasion that we meet,
With vifages display'd, to talk and greet.

Rof. But shall we dance, if they desire 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 speaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt,
The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out.
There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown,
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
So shall we stay, mocking intended game;
And they, well mock’d, depart away with shame.

[Sound. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be malk'd, the markers



Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and attendants,

disguis'd like Muscovites ; Moth with music, as for a masquerade. Moth. All bail, the richell beauties on the earth! Vol. II. R


Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffata. .'

Moth. A boly parcel of the faireft dames, That ever turn'd iheir backs to mortal views.

[The ladies turn their backs to him. Biron. Their


vilīain, their eyes. Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out

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 sun-beamed eyes With your sun-beamed eyes

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it daughter-beamed eyes.

Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue.
Rof. What would these strangers? know their minds,

If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the Princess?
Biron. Nothing, but peace and gentle visitation. .
Rof. What would they, say they?
Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation.

. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. Boyet. She says, you have it; and you may be gone.

King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with her on the grass.
Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a

To tread a measure with you on this grass,
Rof. It is not so. Ask them, how many

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,
And many miles; the Princess bids you tell,

inches doth fill up one mile?
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
Boyet. She hears herself.


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 so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it ftill without accompt.
Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of


face, That we (like favages) may worship it.

Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.

King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds remov'd) upon our watery eyne.

Rof. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter; Thou now request't 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, music, 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 e

ftrang'd? Rof. You took the moon at full, but now she's

chang'a. King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays, vouchsafe fome motion to it.

Rof. Our ears vouchfafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Rof. Since you are strangers, and come here hy chance, We'll not be nice; take hands ;-we will not dance.

King. Why take you hands then!

Rof. Only to part friends ;
Court'sy, sweet hearts, and so the measure ends.

King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rof. We can afford no more at such a price.
King. Prize yourfelves then; what buys your company?
Rof. Your absence only.
King. That can never be.

Ros. 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.
Rof. In private then.
King. I am best pleas’d with that.

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Birou. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with

Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar, there is three.

Biron. Nay then, two treys; and if you grow so 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 secret.
Prin. Let it not be sweet.
Biron. Thou griev'it 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 so? 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 reason, Lady, why you ask.
Cath. O, for your reason! quickly, Sir; I long.

Long. You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless 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

Will you give horns, chaste Lady? do not so.
Cath. Then die a calf, before

horny do

Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Cath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you cry.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge, invincible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen: Above the sense of fenfible, so fenfible


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Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter

things. Rof. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break

off. Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff. King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

[Exeunt King and Lords.


Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites. Are these the breed of wits fo wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are with your sweet breaths puff'd

out. Ros. Well-liking wits they have; grofs, grofs; fat,

fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor flout ! Will they not (think you) hang themselves to-night?

Or ever, but in vizors, shew their faces! This pert Biron was out of count'nance quite.

Ruf. O! they were all in lamentable cases. The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit.

Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No, point, quoth I; my fervant ftraight was mute.

Cath. Lord Longaville faid I came o'er his heart,
And trow you what he callid me?

Prin. Qualm, perhaps.
Catb. Yes, in good faith.
Prin. Go, fickness as thou art !

Rof. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will

you hear? the King is my love sworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me,
Cath. And Longaville was


service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.

Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistreffes, give ear;
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes; for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.


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