SCENE I-Navarre. A Park, with a Palace in it. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, Therefore, brave conquerors!-for so you are, And the huge army of the world's desires,- Your oaths are pass'd, and now subscribe your names; If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do, Biron. I can but say their protestation over, King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these And stay here in your court for three years' space. 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 study's god-like recompense. Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so To know the thing I am forbid to know: Or, study where to meet some mistress fine, I. e. the king, Biron, &c. :} King. These be the stops that hinder study quite, Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, To seek the light of truth; while truth the while Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile : Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed,† That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are, King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding. Dum. How follows that? Biron. Fit in his place and time. Dum. In reason nothing. Biron. Something then in rhyme. Long. Biron is like an envious sneapingt frost, That bites the first-born infants of the spring. Biron. Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast, Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in an abortive birth? At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new fangled shows;§ But like of each thing, that in season grows. So you, to study now it is too late, Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate. King. Well, sit you out:|| go home, Biron; adieu! Biron. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: And, though I have for barbarism spoke more, Than for that angel knowledge you can say, 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 same; King. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! + Direction, aim. Nipping. A term of the card-table: give up your place. Biron. [Reads.] Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court. And hath this been proclaim'd? Long. Four days ago. Biron. Let's see the penalty. [Reads]-On pain of losing her tongue. Who devised this ? Long. Marry, that did I. Biron. Sweet lord, and why? Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. Biron. A dangerous law against gentility.* [Reads.] Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.— This article, my liege, yourself must break; For, well you know, here comes in embassy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak,— About surrender-up of Aquitain To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Therefore this article is made in vain, Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot. While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, "Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost. King. We must, of force, dispense with this decree; She must liet here on mere necessity. Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years' space: For every man with his affects is born; Not by might master'd, but by special grace: If I break faith, this word shall speak for me, I am forsworn on mere necessity. So to the laws at large I write my name: And he that breaks them in the least degree, Stands in attainder of eternal shame: Suggestions are to others, as to me; But, I believe, although I seem so loath, [Subscribes King. Ay, that there is: our court, you know, is haunted A man in all the world's new fashion planted, This child of fancy* that Armado hight,t For interim to our studies, shall relate, In high-born words, the worth of many a knight Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight, } A man of fire-new§ words, fashion's own knight. And, so to study; three years is but short. Enter DULL, with a letter, and COSTARD. Dull. Which is the duke's own person? Biron. This, fellow; What wouldst ? Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see 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. Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words. Long. A high hope for a low having: God grant us patience! Biron. To hear ? or forbear hearing? Long. To hear meekly, Sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both. Biron. Well, Sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb to the merriness. Cost. The matter is to me, Sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. Biron. In what manner? Cost. In manner and form following, Sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is, in manner and form following. Now, Sir, for the manner,it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,— in some form. Biron. For the following, Sir? Cost. As it shall follow in my correction: And God defend the right. King. Will you hear this letter with attention? Biron. As we would hear an oracle. Cost. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh. King. [Reads.] "Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's God, and body's fostering patron,-" Cost. Not a word of Costard yet. * I. e. fanciful invention. As my minstrel, or story-teller. † Is called. Bran new. |