As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; And they thy glory through my grief will show : What, Longaville! and reading? listen, ear. [Steps aside. Biron. [Aside in the tree.] Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear! Long. Ay me! I am forsworn. Biron. [Aside.] Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. King. [Aside.] In love, I hope. Sweet fellowship in shame! Long. This same shall go. [He reads the sonnet. Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: If broken, then, it is no fault of mine. Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity; A green goose, a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. the way. Enter DUMAINE, with a paper. Long. By whom shall I send this?-Company! stay. [Steps aside. Biron. [Aside.] All hid, all hid; an old infant play. Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. Biron. [Aside.] O most profane coxcomb! Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber quoted. a good word? Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Biron. [Aside.] A fever in your blood? why, then incision Would let her out in saucers: sweet misprision! Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. Biron. [Aside.] Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. Dum. On a day, alack the day! Love, whose month is ever May, That I am forsworn for thee; Thou for whom great Jove would swear This will I send, and something else more plain, Long. [Advancing.] Dumaine, thy love is far from charity, That in love's grief desir'st society: You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, King. [Advancing.] Come, sir, blush you: as his your case is such; You chide at him, offending twice as much: Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear? I would not have him know so much by me. O me! with what strict patience have I sat, To see a king transformed to a gnat! And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, Where lies thy grief? O! tell me, good Dumaine : King. Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you: I am betray'd, by keeping company [Going. Soft! Whither away so fast? What, peasant, hast thou there? Jaq. Of Costard. King. Where had'st thou it? Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it? [Tearing it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. [Picking up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead! [To COSTARD.] you were born to do me shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess. Biron. That you three fools lack'd me, fool, to make up the mess. He, he, and you, and you my liege, and I, Biron. True, true; we are four. Hence, sirs; away! Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O! let us embrace. As true we are, as flesh and blood can be: The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; Young blood doth yet obey an old decree: We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands must we be forsworn. King. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine? Biron. Did they? quoth you. Who sees the heavenly Rosaline, That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, At the first opening of the gorgeous east, Bows not his vassal head; and, stricken blind, Kisses the base ground with obedient breast? What peremptory, eagle-sighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty? King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee now? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon, She, an attending star, scarce seen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. O! but for my love, day would turn to night. Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues, Fie, painted rhetoric! O! she needs it not: To things of sale a seller's praise belongs; She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot. A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. No face is fair, that is not full so black. O! if in black my lady's brows be deck'd, It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair, Should ravish doters with a false aspect; And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of these days; For native blood is counted painting now, And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black. Long. And since her time are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be wash'd away. King. "Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as she. Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see. Biron. O! if the streets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread. Dum. O vile! then, as she goes, what upward lies The street should see, as she walk'd over head. King. But what of this? Are we not all in love? Biron. O! nothing so sure; and thereby all for sworn. 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! some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some salve for perjury. Biron. And where that you have vow'd to study, lords, The nimble spirits in the arteries, Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil; And who can sever love from charity? King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field! Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, lords! Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd, Long. Now to plain-dealing: lay these glozes by. Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France? King. And win them too: therefore, let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents. Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them thither; Then, homeward, every man attach the hand ACT V. SCENE I.—Another part of the Same. Enter HOLOFERNES, Sir NATHANIEL, and DULL. Hol. Satis quod sufficit. Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado. Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: his humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography, as to speak | dout, fine, when he should say, 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 abhominable, (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth one of insania: ne intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic. Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo. Hol. Bone?-bone, for bene: Priscian a little scratch'd; 'twill serve. Enter ARMADO, Mотн, and COSTARD. Nath. Videsne quis venit? Hol. Video, et gaudeo. Arm. Chirrah! Hol. Quare Chirrah, not sirrah? Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd. will whip about your infamy circùm circà. A gig of a cuckold's horn! Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O! an the heavens were so pleased, that thou wert but my bastard, what a joyful father would'st thou make me. Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say. Hol. O! I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem. Arm. At your sweet pleasure for the mountain. Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion in the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. Hol. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon : the word is well cull'd, chose; sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir; I do assure. Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure you, my very good friend.-For what is inward between us, let it pass.-I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ;;-I beseech thee, apparel thy head-and among other important and most serious designs,-and of great import indeed, too,but let that pass;-for I must tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal finger, thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but, sweet [To MOTH. heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable: some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass.The very all of all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy, that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antick, or fire-work. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance. Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. Cost. O! they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as Aonorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. Moth. Peace! the peal begins. Arm. Monsieur, [To HoL.] are you not letter'd? Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine WorMoth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book.-thies.-Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainWhat is a, b, spelt backward with the horn on his head? Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. Moth. Ba! most silly sheep, with a horn.-You hear his learning. Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant? Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I. Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.— Hel. What is the figure? what is the figure? Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig. ment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance, the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the princess, I say, none so fit as to present the nine Worthies. Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them? Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabeus; this swain, (because of his great limb or joint,) shall pass for Pompey the great; the page, Hercules. Arm. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club. Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose. Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, "Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake!" that is the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it. Arm. For the rest of the Worthies? Hol. I will play three myself. Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antick, I beseech you, to follow. Hol. Via!-Goodman Dull, thou hast spoken no word all this while. Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir. Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay. Hol. Most dull, honest Dull. To our sport, away! SCENE II.-Another part of the Same. the Princess's Pavilion. [Exeunt. Before Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA, with presents. Prin. Beauteous as ink: a good conclusion. Kath. Fair as a text R in a copy-book. Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter: O, that your face were not so full of O's! Prin. Prin. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows! But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumaine? Kath. Madam, this glove. Did he not send you twain ? Kath. Yes, madam; and, moreover, Some thousand verses of a faithful lover: A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity. Mar. This, and these pearls to me sent Longaville: The letter is too long by half a mile. Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part. O! that I knew he were but in by the week! Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, And make him proud to make me proud that jests ! If fairings come thus plentifully in: A lady wall'd about with diamonds! Look you, what I have from the loving king. Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes; as much love in rhyme, As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, Writ on both sides the leaf, margin and all, That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name. Ros. That was the way to make his god-head wax; For he hath been five thousand years a boy. Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him: a' kill'd your sister. Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might a' been a grandam ere she died; And so may you, for a light heart lives long. Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark. Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument. Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark. Kath. So do not you, for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you, and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not?-O! that's you care not for me. Ros. Great reason; for, past cure is still past care. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it? So potently would I o'ersway his state, Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such excess, As gravity's revolt to wantonness. Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. her grace? Prin. Thy news, Boyet? Boyet. Prepare, madam, prepare! Arm, wenches, arm! encounterers mounted are Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd, Armed in arguments: you'll be surpris'd. Muster your wits; stand in your own defence, Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are they That charge the breach against us? say, scout, say. Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore, I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour, That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage : Presence majestical would put him out; "For," quoth the king, "an angel shalt thou see ; Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously." The boy replied, "An angel is not evil; |