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fool fent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, fweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in : Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan! [Gets up into a tree.
Enter the King, with a paper. King. Ah me!
Biron. [aside.] Shot, by heaven !_Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left
pap :l'faith secrets.-
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
Tbe night of dew that on my cheeks down flows :
Through the transparent bofom of the deep,
Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep :
And they thy glory through my grief will show :
queen of queens, bow far dost thou excel!
[Afide. Long. Ah me! I am forsworn.
Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
[Afide. King. In love, I hope ; Sweet fellowship in shame!
[Afide. Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name. [Aside. Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? [Aside. Biron. I could put thee in comfort; not by two, that I know:
[Aside. Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.
Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to move:
[Afide. Disfigure not his Nop.
Long. This same shall go. [He reads the fonnet.
('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,) Persuade my heart to this false perjury ?
Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore; but, I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee : My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is :
Then thou, fair fun, which on my earth doft shine, Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is :
If broken then, it is no fault of mine; If by me broke, What fool is not so wife,
To lose an oath to win a paradise ? [flesh a deity; Biron. [ Afide.] This is the liver vein, which makes A green goose, a goddess : pure, pure idolatry,
God amend us, God amend! we are much out o'the way.
Enter Dumain, with a paper. Long. By whom shall I send this ?_Company! stay.
[Stepping aside. Biron. [Aside.] All hid, all hid, an old infant play: Like a demi-god here fit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. More facks to the mill! O heavens, I have
my Dumain transform’d: four woodcocks in a dish!
Dum. O most divine Kate !
[Afide. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth, she is but corporal ; there you
[Afide. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. [Afde. Dum. As upright as the cedar.
Biron. Stoop, I say;
[Afide. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine.
[Afide. Dum. O that I had my wish! LONG. And I had mine!
[Aside. King. And I mine too, good Lord !
[Afide. Biron. Amen, so I had mine : Is not that a good word?
[Afide. Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be.
Biron. A fever in your blood! why, then incision Would let her out in faucers; Sweet misprision! [Aside.
Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. Biron. Oncemore I'llmark how love can vary wit. [Afide, Dum. On a day, (alack the day!)
Love, whose month is ever May,
Turning mortal for thy love.-
case is such ; You chide at him, offending twice as much:
You do not love Maria ; Longaville
you both, and for you both did blush. I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd
fashion ; Saw fighs reek from you, noted well your passion : Ah me! says one; O Jove! the other cries ; One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes : You would for paradife break faith and troth; [To Long. And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To DUMAIN, What will Birón say, when that he shall hear A faith infring'd, which such a zeal did swear? How will he scorn ? how will he spend his wit ? How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it? For all the wealth that ever I did see, I would not have him know so much by me.
Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me :
[Descends from the tree. Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove These worms for loving, that art most in love ? Your eyes
do make no coaches ; in your tears, ·