Than seek a dispensation for his oath,

To let you enter his unpeopled house.
Here comes Navarre.

[The ladies mask.

Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and at

tendants.

King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.

Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, wel come I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine.

King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my

court.

Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither.

King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else.

King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise.
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn out house-keeping:
'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it:

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold;
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.

Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

[Gives a paper.
King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant

once?

Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? (1) Whereas.

Biron. I know,
Ros.

you did.

How needless was it then

To ask the question!

You must not be so quick.

Biron.

Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions.

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.

Ros. Not till it leaves the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Ros. The hour that fools should ask.
Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.

Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate, The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say,

that he, or we (as neither have,)
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore.
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart1 withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far

(1) Part.

From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin.

We arrest your word:

Boyet, you can produce acquittances,

For such a sum, from special officers

Of Charles his father.

King.

Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not

come,

Where that and other specialities are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of thern.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto.

Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell;
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your

grace!

King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own

heart.

Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.

Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physic says, I.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?
Ros. No poynt,? with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

Ros. And yours from long living!

Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is

that same?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.

[Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in

the white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.

Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her

name.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:

She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.

[Exit Long.

Biron. What's her name, in the cap?

Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask.

(1) Aye, yes. (2) A French particle of negation

VOL. II.

M

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet.
And every jest but a word.
Prin. It was well done of you to take him at

his word.

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was tc

board.

Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!

Boyet.

And wherefore not ships?

No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish

the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar.

[Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast;

My lips are no common, though several they be.
Boyet. Belonging to
Mar.

whom?

To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles,

agree:

The civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. If my observation (which very seldom
lies,)

By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle,affected. Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their

retire

To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed,
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:

(1) A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands