Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

[Gives a paper.

King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant

once?

Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Biron. I know, you did.

Ros.

To ask the question!

Biron.

How needless was it then

You must not be so quick.

Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such

questions.

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill

tire.

Ros. Not till it leaves the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Ros. The hour that fools should ask.

Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.

Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate, The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;

Being but the one half of an entire sum,

Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say, that he, or we (as neither have),
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid

A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valued to the money's worth,
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
Aud hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid

A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart* withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far

From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast, go well satisfied to France again.

And

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name,

In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin.

We arrest your word:

Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

King.

Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialities are bound; To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.

Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell;
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your
grace!

* Part.

King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train.

Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own

heart.

Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.

Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physick says, I*.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poyntt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

[Retiring.

Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that

same?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline heame. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.

[Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the

white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an' you saw her in the light.

Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her

name.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire 'that, were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

* Aye, yes.

4

+ A French particle of negation.

Boyct. Not unlike, sir; that may be.

Biron. What's her name, in the cap?

Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

[Exit Long.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet.

And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his

word.

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to

board.

Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!

And wherefore not ships?

Boyet. No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Ma You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish

the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar.

[Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast;

My lips are no common though several* they be.
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar.

To my fortunes and me, Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles,

agree:

The civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. If my observation (which very seldom,
lies),

By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.

A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands,

Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their

retire

To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed,
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair :

Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in chrystal for sonie prince to buy ;
Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd-
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye
hath disclos'd:

I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.

Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.

Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim.

Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?