Being but the one half of an entire sum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,)
Received that sum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much

wrong,

And wrong the reputation of your name,

In so unseeming to confess receipt

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

Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

King.

Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not

come,

Where that and other specialities are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them,

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto.

Meantime, receive such 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 so received,
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denièd farther harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow we shall visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort
your grace!

King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt KING and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.

Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would you heard it groan.

Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at the heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physic says, ay.

Biron. Will you prick't with

your eye?

Ros. No poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is

[Retiring.

that same?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.

[Exit.

Lang. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.

Long. Perchance, light in the light I desire

her name.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.

[Erit LONGAVILLE

Biron. What's her name, in the cap?

Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit BIRON.-Ladies unmask.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry madcap

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was

to board.

Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!

And wherefore not ships?

Boyet.

No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your

lips.

Mar. You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar.

[Offering to kiss her.

Not so, gentle beast;

My lips are no common, though several they be. Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar.

To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,

agree:

This civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.

Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies,)

By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.

Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their

retire

To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire : His heart, like an agate, with your print impress'd,

Proud with his form, in his eye pride express'd: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be; All senses to that sense did make their repair, To feel only looking on fairest of fair : Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye, As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy ;

VOL. III.

14

Who, tendering their own worth, from where they were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. His face's own margent did quote such amazes, That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes : I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,

An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed

Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclosed:

I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.

Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim.

Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?