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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. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word.
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 laugh upon the apple of her eye?
King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my for him.
Is not nine.
Biron. Cost. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
For every one pursents three.
You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know. I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir, —
Biron. Go, bid them prepare.
Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take [Exit COSTARD. King. Biron, they will shame us, let them not approach.
Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis some policy
To have one show worse than the king's and his company.
King. I say, they shall not come.
Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you
That sport best pleases, that doth least know how :
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 delivers him a paper. Prin. Doth this man serve God? Biron. Why ask you ?
Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch for, I protest, the school master 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 Machabæus.
And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other five.
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; and the whole world again,
Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his
King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
[Seats brought for the KING, PRINCESS,
Enter NATHANIEL arm'd, for Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander; By east, west, north, and south, quering might : My 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right.
spread my con
Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tendersmelling knight.
Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, good Alexander.
Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's
Biron. Pompey the great,
Cost. O, sir, [to NATH.] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-ax sitting on a close stool, will be given to A-jax he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires.] There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild inan; 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.
Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas. Biron. A kissing traitor: How art thou prov'd
Hol. Judas, I am, —
Dum. The more shame for you, Judas. Hol. What mean you, sir?
Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.
Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Boyet. A cittern head.
Dum. The head of a bodkin.
Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.
Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer: And now, forward; for we have put thee in coun
Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so. Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go. And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay? Dum. For the latter end of his name.
Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him: -Jud-as, away.
Hol. This is not generous, not gentle; not humble Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark, he may stumble.
Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been baited !
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Dum. No, cloven,
Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty Gave Hector a gift,
Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
That columbine Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already; tis yours.
Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.
Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey that is dead by him.
Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Boyet. Renowned Pompey !
Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey, the huge!
Dum. Hector trembles.
Biron. Pompey is mov'd: — More Ates, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on!
Dum. Hector will challenge him.
Arm This Hector far surmounted Hannibal, Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue: gone; she is two months on her way.
Arm. What meanest thou?
Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly 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: you, let me borrow my arms again.
Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Dum. Most resolute Pompey!
Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole Lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation.
Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.
Dum. You may not deny it ; Pompey hath made the challenge.
Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.
Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour.
Mer. God save you, madam!
Prin. Welcome, Mercade;
But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring, Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father Prin. Dead, for my life. Mer. Even so; my tale is told.
I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies.
Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud. Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath:
King. How fares your majesty?
Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks
King. The extreme parts of time extremely forin
From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost,
Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are doub.e. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
And by these badges understand the king.
Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest. Long. So did our looks. Ros. We did not quote them so. King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves.
A ume, rethinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in : No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much, 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;
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 ho
nesty ; 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 I'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 fors worn again. Long. What says Maria?
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?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Biron. A twelvemonth? well, Lefa' what will befal,
When daisies pied, and violets blue,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks,