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I, that am honeft; I, that hold it fin
To break the vow I am engaged in.
I am betray'd by keeping company
With vane-like men, of strange inconftancy.
When shall you fee me write a thing in rhime?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
In pruning me? when fhall you hear, that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a ftate, a brow, a breast, a waste,
A leg, a limb?

King. Soft, whither away fo faft?

A true man or a thief, that gallops so?

Biron. I poft from love; good lover, let me go.
Enter Jaquenetta and Coftard.

Jaq. God blefs the King!

King. What Prefent haft thou there?
Coft. Some certain Treafon.

King. What makes treafon here?
Goft. Nay, it makes nothing, Sir.
King. If it mar nothing neither,

The treafon and you go in peace away together. Jaq. I befeech your Grace, let this letter be read, Our Parfon mifdoubts it: it was treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over. [He reads the letter.

Where hadft thou it?

Jaq. Of Coftard.

King. Where hadft thou it?

Coft. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.

King. How now, what is in you? why doft thou tear it?

Biron. A toy, my Liege, a toy: your Grace needs not fear it.

Long. It did move him to paffion, and therefore

let's hear it.

Dum. It is Biron's writing and here is his name. Biron. Ah, you whorefon loggerhead, you were born to do me shame.

[To Coftard. Guilty,

Guilty, my lord, guilty: I confefs, I confefs.

King. What?

Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mefs.

He, he, and you; and you, my liege, and I

Are pick-purfes in love, and we deserve to die.
O, difmifs this Audience, and I fhall tell you more.
Dum. Now the number is even.

Biron. True, true; we are four:
Will these turtles begone?

King. Hence, Sirs, away.

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ftay.

Coft. Walk afide the true folk, and let the traitors [Exeunt Coft. and Jaquen. Biron, Sweet lords, fweet lovers, O, let us embrace: As true as we are, as flefh and blood can be. The fea will ebb and flow; heav'n will shew his face: Young blood doth not obey an old decree. We cannot crofs the cause why we were born, Therefore of all hands muft we be forfworn.

King. What did these rent lines fhew fome love

of thine ?

Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who fees the heavenly Rofaline,

That (like a rude and favage man of Inde,

At the firft opening of the gorgeous east) Bows not his vaffal head, and, ftrucken blind,

Kiffes the bafe ground with obedient breaft?

What peremptory eagle-fighted eye

Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,

That is not blinded by her Majefty?

King. What zeal, what fury, hath inspir'd thee now?

My love (her miftrefs) is a gracious moon ;.

She (an attending ftar) fcarce feen a light.

Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. O, but for my love, day would turn to night. Of all complexions the cull'd Sovereignty

Do meet, as at a Fair, in her fair cheek;

Where

Where feveral worthies make one dignity;
Where nothing wants, that want itself doth feek.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues;

Fie, painted rhetoric! O, fhe needs it not:
To things of fale a feller's praise belongs:

She paffes praife; the praife, too short, doth blot.
A wither'd hermit, fivefcore winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish Age, as if new-born,

And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy;
O'tis the fun, that maketh all things fhine.
King. By heav'n, thy love is black as ebony.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of fuch wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? where is a book,
That I may swear, Beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look ?

No face is fair, that is not full fo black?
King. O paradox, black is the badge of hell:

The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night; And beauty's crete becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils fooneft tempt, refembling fpirits of light:

O, if in black my lady's brow be deckt,

It mourns, that Painting and ufurping Hair Should ravish doters with a false afpect:

And therefore is fhe born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days,

For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black to imitate her brow.

Dum. To look like her, are chimney-fweepers black. Long. And fince her time, are colliers counted bright.

King. And Ethiops of their fweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is

light. VOL. II.

P

Biron.

Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be wash'd away. King. 'Twere good, yours did: for, Sir, to tell you plain,

I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to day.

Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till dooms-day here.

King. No devil will fright thee then so much as fhe. Dum. I never knew man hold vile ftuff fo dear. Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face fee.

Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine

eyes,

Her feet were much too dainty for fuch tread. Dum. O vile! then as fhe goes, what upward lies

The freet fhould fee as fhe walkt over head. King. But what of this, are we not all in love? Biron. Nothing so sure, and thereby all forfworn. King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, márry, there;fome flattery for this evil.

Long. O, fome Authority how to proceed; Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some falve for perjury.

Biron. O, 'tis more than need.

Have at you then, Affection's Men at arms;
Confider, what you firft did fwear unto:
To faft, to fludy, and to fee no woman;
Flat treafon 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you faft? your fomachs are too young:

And abftinence ingenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to ftudy, (Lords)
In that each of you hath forfworn his book.
Can you fill dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my Lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of Study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?

Why,

Why, univerfal plodding prifons up
The nimble fpirits in the arteries;
As motion and long-during Action tires
The finewy Vigour of the traveller.

Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in That forfworn the use of eyes;
And Study too, the caufer of
your vow.
For where is any author in the world,
* Teaches fuch duty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are, our Learning likewise is.
Then, when ourselves we see in ladies eyes,
Do we not likewise see our Learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forfworn our books:
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other flow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore finding barren practisers,
Scarce fhew a harveft of their heavy toil.
But love, firft learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain:
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as fwift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious Seeing to the eye:
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind!
A lover's ear will hear the lowest Sound,
When † the fufpicious head of theft is ftopt.

P 2

Love's

*Teaches fuch beauty as a woman's eye?] This Line is abfolute Nonsense. We should read duty, i. e. Ethics, or the Offices and Devoirs that belong to Man. A Woman's Eye, fays he, teaches Obfervance above all other Things.

+ the fufpicious head of theft is stopt.] i. e. a Lover in pursuit of his Mistress has his Sense of hearing quicker than a Thief (who fuf

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