Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many, Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur'd miles, Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. How many weary steps, Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you; Our duty is so rich, so infinite, That we may do it still without accompt. Ros. 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 wat❜ry eyne. Ros. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water. King. Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change: soon. Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then: nay, you must do it [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance:-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estrang'd? Ros. You took the moon at full; but now she's chang'd. King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. 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 we hands then? Ros. Only to part friends:Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your company? Ros. Your absence only. King. That can never be. Ros. Then cannot we be bought: and so adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you! King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. Ros. In private then. King. I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart. Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. Biron. Nay then, two treys (an if you grow so nice,) Metheglin, wort, and malmsey ;-Well run, dice! There's half a dozen sweets. Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu! Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. Biron. One word in secret. Prin. Let it not be sweet. Biron. Thou griev'st my gall. Prin. Biron. Gall? bitter. Therefore meet. [They converse apart. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? tongue ? Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. And would afford my speechless visor half. No, a fair lord calf. No, I'll not be your half: Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. cry. Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible, 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. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. [Exeunt King, Lords, Moth, music, and attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out. Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross fat, fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night? Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Bírón was out of countenance quite. Ros. O they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. Prin. Birón 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. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin. Kath. Yes, in good faith. Prin. Qualm, perhaps. Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statutecaps.' But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. Prin. And guick Birón hath plighted faith to me. Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mur. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here (3) Better wits may be found among citizens, In their own shapes; for it can never be, Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. Boyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels veiling clouds, or roses blown. Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Boyet. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt Princess, Ros. Kath. and Maria. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in their proper habits. King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. peas; And utters it again when God doth please: That put Armado's page out of his part! Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now? King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may, VOW: Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke ; The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should have spoke; For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. A world of torments though I should endure, I would not yield to be your house's guest; Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet eye, Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty. Biron. mand you this? Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now downright. Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad? Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Can any face of brass hold longer out?- Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; (5) The tooth of the horse-whale. And I will wish thee never more to dance, Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd, Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend;1 Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song: Taffata phrases, silken terms precise, Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: I do forswear them: and I here protest, By this white glove, (how white the hand, God Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us. her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will re- King. Upon mine honour, no. Peace, peace, forbear; Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will; and therefore keep it :-Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear? Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-sight; and did value me Above this world: adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die my lover. Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word. King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my] troth, I never swore this lady such an oath. Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, sir, again. King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear :What; will you have me, or your pearl again? Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain, (1) Mistress, (2) Make no difficulty. I see the trick on't ;-Here was a consent (Knowing aforehand of our merriment,) To dash it like a Christmas comedy: Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,* Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick [To Boyet. Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue? You put our page out: Go, you are allow'd; Biron. How much is it? Cost. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-c'en one poor man; Pompion the great, sir. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies? Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy: but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare. some care. Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take [Exit Costard. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not approach. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis some policy To have one show worse than the king's and his Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right. That sport best pleases, that doth least know how: My 'scutcheon plain declares, that 1 am Alisander. Enter Armado. Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. [Armado converses with the King, and delivers him a paper. Prin. Doth this man serve God? Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender-smelling knight. Prin. The conqueror. is dismay'd: Proceed, good Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander ;— Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Ali sander. Biron. Pompey the great,- Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. Cost. O, sir, [To Nath.] you have overthrown Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey Alisander the conqueror? You will be scraped out monarch: for, I protest, the school-master is exof the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds cecding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain : But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della his poll-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal A-jax, he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, couplement ! [Exit Armado. and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [Nath. retires.] There, an't shall please you King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas in sooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how 'tis ;-a little o'erparted:But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort. Machabæus. And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, other five. Biron. There is five in the first show. Abate a throw at novum; and the whole world Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein. King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. [Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies. arm'd, for Pompey. Cost. I Pompey am,- Cost. I Pompey am,- Enter Costard You lie, you are not he. With libbard's head on knee. Biron. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee. Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,-| Cost. It is great, sir;-Pompey surnam'd the That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: And, travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance; And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France. If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, 1 had done. Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in, great. Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy. Enter Nathaniel arm'd, for Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander; By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might: Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. Enter Holofernes arm'd, for Judas, and Moth Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.- Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas. Hol. Judas I am, Dum. The more shame for you, Judas. Boyet. To make Judas hang himself. Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all. Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him :- Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been baited! Enter Armado arm'd, for Hector. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms. Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, will now be merry. I King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this. Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd. Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small. Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.I Gave Hector a gift- Long. Stuck with cloves. Dum. No, cloven. Arm. Peace. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea I am that flower,— Dum. That mint. Pompey! Pompey the huge! Dum. Hector trembles. Biron. Pompey is mov'd:-More Ates, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on! Dum. Hector will challenge him. Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea. Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword :-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again. Dum. Room for the incensed worthies. Dum. Most resolute Pompey! Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation. Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me: I will not combat in my shirt. Dum. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge. Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will. Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jacquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour. Enter Mercade. Mer. God save you, madam! But that thou interrupt'st our merriment. Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring, Mer. Even so; my tale is told. Long. Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the Princess.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [Biron whispers Costard. Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted. Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Dum. He may not by the yard. Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way. Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies. King. How fares your majesty ? Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say.-I thank you, gracious lords, For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide, The liberal' opposition of our spirits: If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath, your gentleness Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue: Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain❜d. Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, King. The extreme parts of time extremely form the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the All causes to the purpose of his speed; child brags in her belly already; And often, at his very loose, decides Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among poten-That which long process could not arbitrate: tates? thou shalt die. And though the mourning brow of progeny Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jacque-Forbid the smiling courtesy of love, netta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pom- The holy suit which fain it would convince; pey that is dead by him. Arm. What meanest thou? Dum. Most rare Pompey! Boyet. Renowned Pompey! 'tis yours. Yet, since love's argument was first on foot, From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost, Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great, Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, (1) Lance-men. (2) Até was the goddess of discord. (3) A clown. (4) Clothed in wool, without linen, Free to excess, |