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Hold, take you this, my fweet, and give me thine;
Rof: Come on then, wear the Favours most in sight.
Prin. Th' effect of my intent is to cross theirs;
Rof. But shall we dance, if they desire 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 spoke, each turn away, her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the Speaker's
heart, And quite divorce his memory from his Parti
Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such Sport, as Sport by Sport o'erthrown, To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own; So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, wellmockt, depart away with shame. (Sound.
Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be malkt, the maskers
S CE N E V. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and
Attendants,disguis'd like Muscovites; Moth with Music,
as for a masquerade. Moth: ALL kail, the riches beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties, no richer than'rich taifata. 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 eyės 'to mortal views.
Biron. True ; out, indeed.
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 epithet;
Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me
Boyet. What would you with the Princess ?
gone. Boyet. She says, you have it; and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
Rof. It is not so. Ask them, how many inches
Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles,
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
Ro'. How many weary steps
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, 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'st me beg, this begging is not strange.
Ros. Play, music, 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'? Rof. You took the moon at full, but now she's
chang'd. King. Yet stilt she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays, vouchsafe fome motion to it.
Rof. Our ears vouchsafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Ros. 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;
King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rof. Your absence only.
Rof. Then cannot we be bought; and fo adieu ;
Kong. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu ;
can cog, I'll play no more with you.
Mar. Say you so ? fair lord :
Cath. What, was your visor made without a tongue?
Long. You have a doubletongue within your mask,
Cath. Veal, quoth the Dutch man; is not veal calf?
Cath. No, I'll not be your half;
Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp
mocks! Will you give horns, chaste 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 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; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter
things. Ros; 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.
S CE N E VI. Prin. To at?
TWENTY adieus, my frozen Mifcovites. Boyet. Tapers they are with your sweet breaths puft Rof. Well-liking wits they have; gross, grofs ;
fat, fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor llout! Will they not (think you) hang themselves to night?
Or eyer, 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. 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.
Cath. Lord Longaville faid, I came o'er his heart; And, trow you, what he call'd me?