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Moth. A boly parcel of the fairest dames, That ever turn'd tbeir backs to mortal views.

{The ladies turn their backs to him. Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.

Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views. Out

Biron. True; out, indeed.

Motb. Out of your favours, beav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe Not to bebold

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes With your sun-beamed eyes

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithete; You were best call it daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark ine, and that brings me

out.
Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue.
Rof. What would these strangers? know their

minds, Boyet.
If they do speak our language, 'tis our Will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know, what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the Princess ?
Biron. Nothing, but peace and gentle visitation.
Rof. What would they, say they?
Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle visitation.
Rof. Why, That they have; and bid them so be gone.
Boyet. She says, you have it; and you may be

gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with her on the grass.
Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a

mile,
To tread a measure with you on this grass.

Rof. It is not fo. Ask them, how many inches
Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many,
The measure then of one is easily told.

Boyet. If to come hither you have measurid miles, And many miles; the Princess bids you tell,

How

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How many inches doth fill up one mile?

Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
Boyet. She hears herself,

Rós. How many weary steps
Of many weary miles, you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?

Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Qur duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to shew the fun-fhine of your face,
That we (like savages) may worship it.

Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.

King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. Vouchlafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds remov’d) upon our watery eyne.

Ros. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter ;
Thou now request'st but moon-fhine in the water.
King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one

change;
Thou bid'st me beg, this begging is not strange.

Rof. Play, musick, then; nay, you must do it soon.
Not yet? no dance? thus change I, like the moon.
King. Will you not dance ? how come you thus

estrang'd?
Rof. You took the moon at full, but now she's

chang'd.
King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
The musick plays, vouchsafe fome notion to it.

Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it.
King. But your legs should do it.
Ref. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance;
We'll not be nice; take hands ;-We will not dance.

King. Why take you hands then!

Rof. Only to part friends ;
Curt’sie, sweet hearts, and so the measure ends.

King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rof. We can afford no more at such a price.
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King.

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King. Prize your selves then ; what buys your com

pany?

Rof. Your absence only.
King. That can never be,

Rot. Then cannot we be bought; and fo adieu ; Twice to your visor, and half once to you.

King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
Rof. In private then.
King. I am best pleas'd with That.
Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with

thee. Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar, there is three. Biron. Nay then, two treys, ; and if you grow so

nice, Methegline, wort, and malmsey;-well run, dice: : There's half a dozen sweets.

Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu,
Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

Biron. One word in secret.
Prin. Let it not be sweet.
Biron. Thou griev'st my gall.
Prin. Gall? bitter-
Biron. Therefore meet.
Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a

word? Mar. Name it. Dum. Fair lady,

Mar. Say you so? fair lord:
Take that for your fair lady.

Dum. Please it you;
As much in private; and I'll bid adieu.

Catb. What, was your visor made without a tongue?
Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
Catb. O, for your reason! quickly, Sir; I long.

Long. You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless vizor half.
Catb. Veal, quoth the Dutch man; is not veal calf?

Long

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Lang: A calf, fair lady?
Cath. No, a fair lord calf,
Long. Let's part the word.

Cath. No, I'll not be your half;
Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox,
Long. Look, how you butt your self in these sharp

mocks!
Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not fo.

Catb. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Cath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you cry.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge, invincible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen:

Above the sense of sense, so sensible
Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings i
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter

things.
Ref. Not one word more, my maids; break off,

break off. Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff. King. Farewel, mad wenches; you have simple wits,

[Exeunt King and Lords. SCENE VI. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites. Are these the Breed of wits so wondred at? · Boyet. Tapers they are with your sweet breaths puft Rof. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross;

fat, fat.
Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor fout!
Will they not (think you) hang themselves to night?

Or ever, but in vizors, shew their faces?
This pert Biron was out of count'nance quite.

Rof. O! they were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping.ripe for a good word.

Prin.

out.

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Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit.

Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword : No, point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.

Catb. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And, trow you, what he call'd me?

Prin. Qualm, perhaps.
Cath. Yes, in good faith.
Prin. Go, sickness as thou art!

Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. But will you hear the King is my love sworn.

Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me. Catb. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.

Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be, They will digest this harsh indignity.

Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore, change Favours s and, when they repair, Blow, like sweet roses, in this summer air. Prin. How, blow? how, blow? speak to be un

derstood. Boyet. “Fair ladies, maskt, are roses in the bud; " Or angels veild in clouds: are roses blown, “ Dismaskt, their damask sweet Commixture shewn,

Prin, 6 Fair ladies, maskt, are roses in the bud; Difmaskt, their damask sweet commixture

fewn, Are ANGELS VEILING clouds, or roses blown.] This strange nonsense, made worse by the jumbling together and transpofing the lines, I directed Mr. Theobald to read thus,

Fair ladies masked are roles in the bud;
Or ANGELS VEIL'D IN clouds: are roses blown,

Difmaskt, their damask sweet commixture Jewn. But he willing to Inew how well he could improve a thought, would print it,

Or Angel-veiling Clouds,

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