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Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows;

And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:
Therefore change favours; and, when they repair,
Blow like fweet rofes in this summer-air.

Prin. How, blow? how, blow? fpeak to be underflood, Boyet. Fair ladies mask'd, are roses in the bud, "Or angels veil'd in clouds: are roses blown, "Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture fhewn.” Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! what shall we do If they return in their own fhapes to woo?

Rof. Good Madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
Let's mock them ftill, as well known, as disguis'd;
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Difguis'd, like Mufcovites, in fhapelefs * gear;
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their fhallow fhows, and prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage fo ridiculous,
Should be prefented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw, the gallants are at hand.
Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er the land.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Before the Princess's pavilion.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in their own habits; Boyet meeting them.

King. Fair Sir, God fave you! Where's the Princefs?
Boyet. Gone to her tent.

Please it your Majefty, command me any service to her?
King. That the vouchfafe me audience for one word.
Boyet. I will; and fo will fhe, I know, my Lord [Exit.
Biron. This fellow pick up wit, as pigeons pease;
And utters it again, when Jove doth pleafe;
He is wit's pedlar, and retails his wares
At wakes and waffals, meetings, markets, fairs:
And we that fell by grofs, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.

* Uncouth.

This

This gallant pins the wenches on his fleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
He can carve too, and lifp: why, this is he
That kifs'd away his hand in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, Monfieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms: nay, he can fing
A mean most mainly; and, in ufhering,
Mend him who can; the ladies call him fweet;
The ftairs, as he treads on them, kifs his feet.
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To fhew his teeth as white as whale's bone.-
And confciences that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongu'd Boyet.
King. A blister on his fweet tongue with my heart.
That put Armado's page out of his part!

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Enter the Princefs, Rofaline, Maria, Catharine, Boyet, and attendants *

King. We come to vifit you, and purpose now
To lead you to our court; vouchfafe it then.
Prin. This field fhall hold me, and fo hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.

King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;
The virtue of your eye muft break my oath.
Prin. You nick-name virtue; vice you should have
fpoke.

For virtue's office never breaks mens' troth.
Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unfully'd lily, I proteft,

A world of torments though I should endure,

- attendants.

Biron. See, where it comes; behaviour, what wert thou,
Till this man fhew'd thee? and what art thou now?

King. All hail, fweet Madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair in all hail is foul, as I conceive.
King. Conftrue my speeches better, if you may.
Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave,
King. We come, &c.

I

I would not yield to be your house's gueft:
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heav'nly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in defolation here,
Unfeen, unvifited, much to our fhame.
Prin. Not fo, my Lord; it is not fo, I fwear:
We have had paftimes here, and pleasant game.
A mefs of Ruffians left us but of late.

King. How, Madam? Ruffians?

Prin. Ay, in truth, my Lord;

Trim gallants, full of courtfhip, and of state.

Rof. Madam, fpeak true. It is not fo, my Lord: My Lady (to the manner of the days)

In courtesy gives undeferving praife.

We four indeed, confronted were with four
In Ruffian habit: here they ftaid an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my Lord,
They did not blefs us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thirfty, fools would fain have drink.
Biron. This jeft is dry to me. Fair, gentle, fweet,
Your wit makes wife things foolish; when we greet
With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye,

By light we lofe light; your capacity

Is of that nature, as to your huge ftore

Wife things feem foolish, and rich things but poor.
Rof. This proves you wife and rich; for in my eye-
Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Rof. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to fnatch words from my tongue.
Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I poffefs.
Rof. All the fool mine?

Biron. I cannot give you lefs.

Rof. Which of the vizors was it that you wore?
Biron. Where? when? what vizor? why demand you

this?

Rof. There, then, that vizor, that fuperfluous cafe, That hid the worse, and fhew'd the better face.

King. We are defcried: they'll mock us now downright. Dum. Let us confefs, and turn it to a jeft.

Frin. Amaz'd, my Lord? why looks your Highness

fad!

Rof.

Rof. Help, hold his brows, he'll foon: why look you

pale?

Sea-fick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

Biron. Thus pour the flars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brafs hold longer out?

Here ftand I, Lady, dart thy skill at me;

Bruife me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
Thruft thy fharp wit quite through my ignorance;
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
And I will with thee never more to dance,

Nor never more in Ruffian habit wait.
O! never will I truft to fpeeches penn'd,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue;
Nor never come in vizor to my friend,

Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's fong.
Taffata-phrafes, filken terms precife,
Three pil'd hyperboles, fpruce affectation,
Figures pedantical, thefe fummer-flies,

Have blown me full of maggot oftentation:

I do forfwear them; and I here proteft,

By this white glove, (how white the hand, God

knows!

Henceforth my wooing mind fhall be exprefs'd
In ruffet Teas, and honeft kerfy Noes:
And to begin, wench, (fo God help me, law!)
My love to thee is found, fans crack or flaw.
Ref. Sans, fans, I pray you.

Biron. Yet I have a trick

Of the old rage: bear with me, I am fiek.
I'll leave it by degrees: foft. let us fee;
Write, Lord have mercy on us. on those three;
They are infected, in their hearts it lies;

They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
Thefe Lords are vifited, you are not free;
For the Lords tokens on you both I fee.

Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens to us
Biron. Our ftates are forfeit, feek not to undo us.
Rof. It is not fo; for how can this be true,
That

you ftand forfeit, being those that fue?

Biron. Peace, for I will not have to do with you..
Rof. Nor fhall not, if I do as I intend.

Biron, Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end.

King. Teach us, fweet Madam, for our rude tranfgref

Some fair excufe.

Prin. The faireft is confeffion.

Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?

King. Madam, I was.

Prin. And were you well advis'd?

King. I was, fair madam.

Prin. When you then were here,

What did you whisper in your lady's ear?

[fion

King. That more than all the world I did respect her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. King. Upon mine honour, no.

Prin. Peace, peace, forbear:

Your oath once broke, you force not to forfwear.
King. Defpife me when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will, and therefore keep it, Rofaline,
What did the Ruffian whisper in your ear?

Rof. Madam, he fwore that he did hold me dear
As precious eye-fight; 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
Moft honourably doth uphold his word

King. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my troth, I never fwore this lady fuch an oath.

Rof. By Heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, Sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, to th' Princefs I did give;

I knew her by this jewel on her fleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.
What? will you have me; or your pearl again?
Biron. Neither of either: I remit both twain.
I fee the trick on't; here was a confent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment,)
To dafh it, like a Christmas comedy.

Some carry-tale, fome please-man, fome flight zany,
Some mumble-news, fome trencher-knight, fome Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's difpos'd,
Told our intents before; which once difclos'd,
The ladies did change favours, and then we,

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