Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! Biron. And send you many lovers! Ros. Amen; so you be none. 130 Biron. Nay, then will I be gone. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; But say, that he, or we (as neither have) Although not valued to the money's worth. Which we much rather had depart withal, Dear princess, were not his requests so far 140 150 From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again. Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, And And wrong the reputation of your name, King. I do protest, I never heard of it; Prin. We arrest your word : Boyet, you can produce acquittances, King, Satisfy me so. 160 Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound; King. It shall suffice me; at which interview, Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, 170 180 Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. I 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 the heart. 190 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. Non poynt, with my knife. Biron. Now, God save thy life! ~~ Ros. And yours from long living! Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Exit. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word; What lady is that same? Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. 199 [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. Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard. Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. 219 [Exit LONGAVILLE. Biron. What's her name in the cap? Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu! Boyet. Farewel to me, sir, and welcome to you [Exit BIRON, 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. گ 221 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. Too hot sheeps, marry! Boyet. And wherefore not ships ? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. Not so, gentle beast; 239 My lips are no common, though several they be. Boyet 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? 240 Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their re tire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire : 250 Who, tendring their own worth, from whence they were glass'd, Did point out to buy them, along as you pass'd. |