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Remote from all the pleasures of the world; .
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what
to me? Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; You are attaint with faults and perjury; Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, But seek the weary beds of people sick.
Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Kath. A wife !-A beard, fair health, and hon
esty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Kath. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and a
day I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say : Come when the king doth to my lady come, Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
At the twelvemonth's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Long. I'll stay with patience ; but the time is
long. Mar. The liker you ; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me, Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there; Impose some service on me for thy love.
Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks; Full of comparisons and wounding flouts ; Which you on all estates will execute, That lie within the mercy of your wit: To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain ; And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, (Without the which I am not to be won,) You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fiercel endeavour of your wit, To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of
death? It cannot be; it is impossible : Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
befall, I'll jest a tvelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
"To the King. King. No, madam : we will bring you on your
way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a
day, And then 'twill end. Biron.
That's too long for a play.
Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo ? It should have followed in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Arm. Holla! approach.Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Moth, Costard, and
others. This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.—You, that way; we, this way.
[Exeunt. (1) Wild apples.
In this play, which all the editors have concur. red to censure, and some have rejected as unworthy of our poet, it must be confessed that there are many passages mean, childish, and vulgar : and some which ought not to have been exhibited, as we are told they were, to a maiden queen. But there are scattered through the whole many sparks of genius; nor is there any play that has more evident marks of the hand of Shakspeare.