Hold, take you this, my fweet, and give me thine; So fhall Biron take me for Rofaline,

And change your Favours too; fo fhall your Loves Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Rof. Come on then, wear the Favours most in fight. Cath. But in this changing, what is your intent? Prin. Th' effect of my intent is to cross theirs; They do it but in mocking merriment, And mock for mock is only my intent. Their feveral councils they unbofom shall To loves miftook, and so be mockt withal, Upon the next occafion that we meet, With vifages display'd, to talk and greet.

Rof. But fhall we dance, if they defire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot; Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis fpoke, each turn away her face.

Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the Speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his Part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, The reft will ne'er come in, if he be out.

There's no fuch Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown, To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own; So fhall we stay, mocking intended game;

And they, well mockt, depart away with fhame. [Sound. Boyet. The trumpet founds; be mafkt, the mafkers.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and Attendants,difguis'd like Mufcovites; Moth with Mufic, as for a mafquerade.

Moth. A

LL hail, the richest beauties on the earth!.
Boyet, Beauties, no richer than rich taffata.

Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

That ever turn'd their 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.

Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nly Spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold.

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

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

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were beft call it daughter-beamed eyes.

Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me

out.

Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue. Rof. What would these ftrangers? know their minds, Boyet.

If they do fpeak our language, 'tis our Will
That fome plain man recount their purposes.
Know, what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the Princess?
Biron. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation.
Rof. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing, but peace and gentle vifitation. Rof. Why, That they have; and bid them fo be gone. Boyet. She fays, you have it; and you may be gone. King. Say to her, we have meafur'd many miles, To tread a measure with her on the grafs.

Boyet. They fay, that they have measur'd many a mile,

To tread a measure with you on this grafs.

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

Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles, And many miles; the Princefs bids you tell, How many inches doth fill up one mile?

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

Rof.

Ro. 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
Our duty is fo rich, fo infinite,

That we may do it fill without accompt.
Vouchfafe to fhew the fun-fhine of your face,
That we (like favages) may worship it.

you;

Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Bleffed are clouds, to do as fuch clouds do. Vouchfafe, bright moon, and these thy ftars, to shine (Those clouds remov'd) upon our watery eyne.

Ref. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter; Thou now request'ft but moon-shine in the water. King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change;

Thou bid ft me beg, this begging is not ftrange. Rof. Play, mufic, 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 eftrang'd? but now fhe's

Rof. You took the moon at full,

chang'd.

King. Yet ftill fhe is the moon, and I the man. The mufic plays, vouchsafe some motion to it. Rof. Our ears vouchfafe it.

King. But your legs fhould do it.

Rof. Since you are ftrangers, and come here by chance, We'll not be nice; take hands ;—we will not dance. King. Why take you hands then!

Ref. Only to part friends;

Curt'fy fweet hearts, and fo the measure ends.

King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rof. We can afford no more at fuch a price.
King. Prize yourselves then; what buys your com-
pany?

Rof. Your abfence only.
King. That can never be.

Rof.

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

Kong. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. Rof. In private then.

King. I am beft pleas'd with That.

Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

Prin. Honey, and milk, and fugar, there is three. Biron. Nay then, two treys; and if you grow fo nice,

Methegline, wort, and malmfey;well run, dice: There's half a dozen fweets.

Prin. Seventh fweet, adieu;

Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

Biron. One word in fecret.

Prin. Let it not be sweet.

Biron. Thou griev'st my gall.

Prin. Gall? bitter

Biron. Therefore meet.

Dum. Will you vouchfafe with me to change a word?

Mar. Name it.

Dum. Fair lady,

Mar. Say you fo? fair lord:

Take that for your fair lady.

Dum. Please it you;

As much in private; and I'll bid adieu.

Cath. What, was your vifor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reafon, lady, why you afk. Cath. O, for your reafon! quickly, Sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my fpeechlefs vifor half.

Cath. Veal, quoth the Dutch man; is not veal calf? Long. 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.

Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!

Will you give horns, chafte lady? do not fo.

Cath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Long. One word in private with you, ere I die. Cath. Bleat foftly 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 feen:

Above the sense of sense, so fenfible

Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, fwifter things.

Rof. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure fcoff.King. Farewel, mad wenches; you have fimple wits. [Exeunt King and Lords.

Prin. Are there the Breed of wits fo wondred at? WENTY adieus, my frozen Mufcovites.

Boyet. Tapers they are with your fweet breaths puft

out.

Rof. Well-liking wits they have; grofs, gross; fat, fat.

Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor flout!

Will they not (think you) hang themfelves to night? Or ever, but in vizors, fhew 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. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumain was at my fervice, and his sword: No, point, quoth I; my fervant ftraight was mute. Cath. Lord Longaville faid, I came o'er his heart; And, trow you, what he call'd me?