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And shape to win grace, tho' he had no wit.
I faw him at the Duke Alenfon's once,

And much too little of that good I faw
Is my report to his
great worthiness.

Rofa. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, as I have heard o'truth;
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
His eye begets occafion for his wit;
For every object, that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jeft;
Which his fáir tongue (conceit's expofitor)
Delivers in fuch apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales;
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So fweet and voluble is his difcourfe.

Prin. God bless my ladies: are they all in love,
That every one her own hath garnished
With fuch bedecking ornaments of praise!
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance, Lord?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he and his competitors in oath

Were all addreft to meet you, gentle lady,

Before I came. Marry, thus much I've learnt,
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to befiege his Court,
Than seek a difpenfation for his oath,
To let you enter his unpeopled house.
Here comes Navarre.

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Enter the King, Longueville, Dumain, Biron, and Attendants.

King. Fair Princefs, welcome to the Court of Navarre, Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and welcome I have not yet: the roof of this Court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be mine.

King. You fhall be welcome, Madam, to my Court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady, I have fworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forfworn. King. Not for the world, fair Madam, by my will. Prin. Why, Will fhall break its will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my lord fo, his ignorance were wife, Where now his knowledge muft prove ignorance. I hear, your Grace hath fworn out houfe-keeping: 'Tis deadly fin to keep that oath, my Lord; *And fin to break it.

But pardon me, I am too fudden bold:

To teach a teacher ill befeemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my Coming,
And fuddenly refolve me in my fuit.

King. Madam, I will, if fuddenly I may.
Prin. You will the fooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Rof. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know, you did.

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Rof. How needlefs was it then to ask the question? Biron. You must not be fo quick.

Rof. 'Tis long of you, that fpur me with fuch questions.

Sir T. Hanmer reads not fin to break it. I believe erroneoufly. The Princefs fhews an inconve

nience very frequently attending rafh oaths, which, whether kept or broken, produce guilt. K 3

Biron,

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast,'twill tire,
Ref. Not 'till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o'day?

Rof. The hour, that fools fhould ask,
Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Rof. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And fend you many lovers!
Raf. Amen, so you be none !
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King, Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns ;
Being but th' one half of an entire fum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But fay, that he, or we, as neither have,
Receiv'd that fum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in furety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valu'd to the money's worth :
If then the King your father will restore
But that one half which is unfatisfy'd,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his Majesty:
But that, it seems, he little purpofeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
An hundred thoufand crowns, and not demands.
On payment of an hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which he much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,

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Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is.

Dear princefs, were not his requests so far
From reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make
A yielding 'gainft fome reason in my breast;
And go well fatisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the King my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name,

In fo unseeming to confefs receipt

Of that, which hath fo faithfully been paid.
King. I do proteft, I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arreft your word:

Bøyet, you can produce acquittances
For fuch a fum, from fpecial officers
Of Charles his father.

King. Satisfy me fo.

Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: To-morrow you fhall have a fight of them.

King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto:

Mean time, receive fuch welcome at my hand,
As honour without breach of honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthiness.
You may not come, fair Princess, in my gates;
But here, without, you shall be fo receiv'd,

As
you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Tho' fo deny'd fair harbour in my house:

Your own good thoughts excufe me, and farewel;
To-morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair defires confort your Grace!

King. Thy own Wish wish I thee, in every place.

[Exit.

varre declares, he had rather re- than detain the Province mortceive the Refidue of his Debt, gag'd for Security of it. THEOP

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Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart, Rof. I pray you, do my commendations;

I would be glad to fee it.

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Biron. I would, you heard it groan,
Rof. Is the fool fick ?

Biron. Sick at the heart.
Rof. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Rof. My phyfick fays, ay.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?
Rof. Non, poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now God fave thy life!

Rof. And yours from long living!
Biron. I can't stay thanksgiving.

[Exit.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame? Boyet. The heir of Alanfon, Rofaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady; Monfieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you, a word: what is fhe in white? Boyet. A woman fometimes, if you faw her in the light.

Long. Perchance, light in the light; I defire her name, Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to defire That, were a fhame,

Long. Pray you, Sir, whofe daughter?

Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.

Long. God's bleffing on your beard! *

Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended.

She is an heir of Faulconbridge.

Long. Nay, my choler is ended;

She is a moft fweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, Sir, that may be. [Exit Long.

Biron. What's her name in the cap?

Boyet. Catharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is the wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, Sir, or fo.

That is, mayft thou have fenfe and ferioufnefs more proportionate to thy beard, the

length of which fuits ill with fuch idle catches of wit.

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