And though the mourning brow of progeny The holy suit which fain it would convince ;b From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost, As to rejoice at friends but newly found. Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of And by these badges understand the king. For your fair sakes have we neglected time, [grief; Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies, To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you : Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace. Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love; Your favours, the embassadors of love; b — which fain it would convince ;] I believe that the words which fain it would convince, mean what it would wish to succeed in obtaining.-M. MASON. c I understand you not; my griefs are double.] I suppose, she means, 1. On account of the death of her father; 2. On account of not understanding the king's meaning.—MALONE. d Suggested us-] That is, tempted us.-JOHNSON. And, in our maiden council, rated them your loves Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest. Long. So did our looks. Ros. King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. We did not quote them so. A time, methinks, too short Prin. Remote from all the pleasures of the world; Change not your offer made in heat of blood; Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts, For the remembrance of my father's death. King, If this, or more than this, I would deny, As bombast,] Bombast was a kind of loose texture not unlike what is now called wadding, used to give the dresses of that time bulk and protuberance, without much increase of weight.-JOHNSON. and last love:] Means, if to continue to be love. -STEEVENS. 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, Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. Mar. Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long. Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain; 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: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, And I will have you, and that fault withal; But, if they will not, throw away that spirit, 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 way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then 'twill end. Biron. That's too long for a play. Enter ARMADO. Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,— Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? it should have followed in the end of our show. King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so. Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD, and others. This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin. SONG. Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue, Do paint the meadows with delight, Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear, II. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear, III. Winter. When icicles hang by the wall, NARES. And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And milk comes frozen home in pail, cuckoo-buds-] i. e. Cowslip-buds, from the French herbe cocu. |