Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied lily, I protest, A mess of Russians left us but of late. Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. We four, indeed, confronted here with four Biron. This jest is dry to me-Fair, gentle sweet, [greet Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye, By light we lose light: Your capacity le of that nature, that to your huge store Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor. Ros. This proves you wise and rich; for in my eye, Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty. Ros. But that you take what doth to you be long, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess. Ros. All the fool mine? Biron. I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this? Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now downright. Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad? Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. Can any face of brass hold longer out?Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; [rance; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignoCut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance, Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd, Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend ;+ Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's Taffata phrases, silken terms precise, [song: Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: • After the fashion of the times. + Mistress. I do forswear them: and I here protest, Biron. Yet I have a trick Of the old rage:-bear with me, I am sick; eyes: 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. King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth, 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. wear; And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear :-What; will you have me, or your pearl again? Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain. I see the trick on't;-Here was a consent,t (Knowing aforehand of our merriment,) To dash it like a Christmas comedy: [zany, Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight * Make no difficulty. + Conspiracy. ↑ Buffon. Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick, [trick You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye, Boyet. Full merrily Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done. Enter COSTARD. Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray. Cost. O Lord, Sir, they would know, [no. Whether the three worthies shall come in, or Biron. What, are there but three? Cost. No, Sir; but it is vara fine, For every one pursents three. Biron. And three times thrice is nine. Cost. Not so, Sir; under correction, Sir; I hope, it is not so: You cannot beg us, Sir, I can assure you, Sir; we know what we know: I hope, Sir, three times thrice, Sir, Biron. Is not nine. Cost. Under correction, Sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount. Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Cost. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir. Biron. How much is it? Cost. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the great, Sir. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies? Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy; but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare. Cost. We will turn it finely off, Sir; we will take some care. [Exit COSTARD !King. Birón, 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 Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord. Enter ARMADO. Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense 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? 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 schoolmaster 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. [Seats brought for the KING, PRINCESS, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies. Enter COSTARD arm'd, for Porney. Cost. I Pompey am,——— Boyet. You lie, you are not he. Boyet. With libbard's head on knee. Biron. Well said, old mocker; I must eas be friends with thee. Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam’d the big,— Dum. The great. Cost. It is great, Sir;-Pompey surnam'd the great; That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: And, travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance; And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France. If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, I had done. Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. Cost. "Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in, great. Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy. 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, I spread my conquering might: My'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right. Birou. Your nose smells, no, in this, most Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, Nath. When in the world I lw'd, I was the Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Biron. Pompey the great, Cost. Your servant, and Costárd. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander. Cost. O, Sir, [To NATH.] you have over- Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, ed canus; And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus: [Exit MOTH. Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas. prov'd Judas? Hol. Judas I am,— Dum. The more shame for you, Judas. Boyet. To make Judas hang himself. Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on Hol. I will not be put out of countenance. Hol. What is this? Boyet. A cittern head. Dum. The head of a bodkin. Biron. A death's face in a ring. Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen. Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion. Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth- And now, forward; for we have put thee in Hol. You have put me out of countenance. * A soldier's powder-horn. ✦ An ornamental buckle for fastening hat-bands, &c. Dum. For the latter end of his name. Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not Boyet. A light for Monsieur Judas; it grows dark, he may stumble. Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been baited! Enter ARMADO armed, for Hector. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms. Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry. King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this. Boyet. But is this Hector? Dum. I think, Hector was not so cleantimber'd. Long. His leg is too big for Hector. Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small. 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. Long. Stuck with cloves. Dum. No, cloven. Arm. Peace. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Aman so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea Dum. That mint. Long. That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector. Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rot- Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Dum. He may not by the yard. Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,— is gone; she is two months on her way. Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trothe child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours. jan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; Arm, Dost thou infamonize me among po tentates? 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! Pompey, Pompey the huge! Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Dum. Hector trembles. Biron. Pompey is mov'd:-More Ates,* more Ates; stir them on! stir them on! Dum. Hector will enallenge him. Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea. Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies, Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Even to the opposed end of our intents: Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a nor-And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,thern man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword:-As love is full of unbefitting strains; I pray you let me borrow my arms again. 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. Biron. What reason have you for't? 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. Enter MERCADE. Mer. God save you, madam! 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 fatherPrin. Dead, for my life. Mer. Even so; my tale is told. Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud. Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies. King. How fares your majesty? Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, King. The extreme parts of time extremely Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief; And by these badges understand the king. • A clown. All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain; Your favours, the ambassadors of love; 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. Prin. A time, methinks, 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: If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,‡ Nip not the gaudy blossoms of our love, 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 Kath. A wife!-A beard, fair health, and honesty; 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 I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. Long. What says Maria? Mar. 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: [brain; To weed this wormwood from your fruitful 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 With all the fierce* endeavour of your wit, [be, To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of It cannot be; it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. [death? 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 groans, Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, And I will have you, and that fault withal; But, if they will not, throw away that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation. Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. [befal, 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 Biron. That's too long for a play. + Immediate. Enter ARMADO. Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,— Prin. Was not that Hector? 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. Arm. Holla! approach. Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, MOTH, spring; the one maintained by the owl, the This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, 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, Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear, III. |