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In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, heaven knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.

Boyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?

Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disguis'd: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder, what they were; and to what end Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd, And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us. Boyet. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt PRINCESS, Ros. KATH. and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN in their proper habits.

King. Fair sir, heaven save you! Where is the princess?

Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.

Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. [Exit.

Biron. This fellow picks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when Jove doth please: He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs; He can carve too, and lisp: Why, this is he, That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy ; This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms; nay, he can sing A mean 6 most meanly; and, in ushering, Mend him who can: the ladies call him, sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet: This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whales' bone 7: And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,

That put Armado's page out of his part!

Enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE,
MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants.
Biron. See where it comes! - Behaviour, what
wert thou,

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now?
King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul as I conceive.
King. Construe my speeches better, if you may.
Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave.
King. We came to visit you; and purpose now
To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then.
Features, countenances.

5 Rustic merry-meetings.
7 The tooth of the horse-whale

The tenor in musick.

Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your

VOW:

Nor heaven, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King Rebuke me not for that which you provoke; The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unsullied lily, I protest,

A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house's guest:
So much I hate a breaking-cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game;
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam? Russians?

Prin.

Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true: It is not so, my lord; My lady, (to the manner of the days 8,) In courtesy, gives undeserving praise. We four indeed, confronted here with four In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. Biron. This jest is dry to me Fair, gentle,

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And I will wish thee never more to dance,

Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend;

Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song: Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,

Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:

I do forswear them: and I here protest,

By this white glove, (how white the hand,
heaven knows!)

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes:
And, to begin, girl, - so heaven help me, la! -
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Ros. Sans SANS, I pray you.

Biron.

Yet I have a trick Of the old rage: - bear with me, I am sick; I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see ; — Write, heaven have mercy on us, on those three; They are infected, in their hearts it lies; They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes: These lords are visited; you are not free, For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.

Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us. Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us. Ros. It is not so: For how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? Biron. Peace; for I will not have to do with you. Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.

Biron. Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end. King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression

Some fair excuse.

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King. Madam, I was. Prin.

And were you well advis'd?
King. I was, fair madam.
Prin.
When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
King. That more than all the world I did respect her.
Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will
reject her.

King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin.

Peace, peace, forbear; Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will; and therefore keep it : - Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-sight; and did value me Above this world: adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die my lover.

Prin. Heaven give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth,

I never swore this lady such an oath.

Ros. By heaven you did; and to confirm it plain You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear: — What; will you have me, or your pearl again? Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain.Make no difficulty.

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That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,-
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change favours; and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn; in will, and error.
Much upon this it is: And might not you,
[To BOYET.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire 3,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

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Cost. O, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my man, - e'en one poor man; Pompion the great, sir. own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one

Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?

Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy: but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare,

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Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Die in the zeal of them which it presents,
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth;
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord.

Enter ARMADO.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. [ARMADO converses with the King, and de

livers him a paper. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch: for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain: But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement ! [Exit ARMADO. King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Ma

chabæus.

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Biron. There is five in the first show.

King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so. Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedgepriest, the fool, and the boy :

Abate a throw at novum 4; and the whole world again,

Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein. King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.

[Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Enter COSTARD arm'd for Pompey.

Cost. I Pompey am,

Boyet.

Yu lie, you are not he.

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My 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right.

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;· -

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Ali

sander.

Biron. Pompey the great,

Cost.

Your servant, and Costárd. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.

Cost. O, sir, [To NATH.] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires.] There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man ; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how 'tis ; — a little o'erparted : But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter HOLOFERNES arm'd, and MоTH arm'd, for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus ;

And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus
Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;
Ergo, I come with this apology.
Keep some state in thy erit, and vanish.

[Exit MOTH.

Hol. Judas I am, yeleped Machabæus.
Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas.
Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Biron. Because thou hast no face.

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Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Biron. False; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go.
[Exit HOLOFERNES.

Enter ARMADO arm'd, for Hector.
Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes
Hector in arms.

Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this. Boyet. But is this Hector?

Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd Long. His leg is too big for Hector.

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The armipotent Mars, of lances the mighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;

A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.

I am that flower,

Dum.

Long.

That mint.

That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector.

Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breath'd, he was a man. But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [To the Princess.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [BIRON whispers COSTARD. Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much de

lighted.

Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.

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Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,
Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone.
Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among poten-
tates? thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be hanged, for Pompey that is dead by him.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!

Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

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King. The extreme parts of time extremely form All causes to the purpose of his speed;

And often, at his very loose, decides

That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the morning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,
The holy suit which fain it would convince;
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost,
Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double.
Biroh. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of
grief;

And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected tine,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
As love is full of unbefitting strains;

All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain ;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great To every varied object in his glance:
Pompey! Pompey the huge!

More Ates, more

Dum. Hector trembles.
Biron. Pompey is mov'd:
Ates; stir them on! stir them on!
Dum. Hector will challenge him.
Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in
him than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword: - I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.

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Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both, -
fair ladies, you;
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.
Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
Your favours, the embassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time:
But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more
than jest.
Long. So did our looks.

Ros.

We did not quote 7 them so. King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves.

Prin.

A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in :
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much,

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Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this, -
If for my love (as there is no such cause)
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay, until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning;
If this austere insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;

If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation,

For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

King. If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.
Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to
me?

Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; You are attaint with faults and perjury; Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, But seek the weary beds of people sick.

Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Kath. A wife! A beard, fair health, and honesty;

With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?
Kath. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and a day
J'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say:
Come when the king doth to my lady come,
Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again.
Long. What says Maria?

Mar.

At the twelvemonth's end,
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me.
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there;
Impose some service on me for thy love.

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,
Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts;
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercy of your wit:

To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain;
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won,)
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?

8 Clothing.

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Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you, and that fault withal;
But, if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.

Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will befal,

I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord: and so I take my leave. [To the KING. King. No, madam: we will bring you on your

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