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O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remuneration.- What's the price of this inkle? a penny-No, I'll give you a remuneration: why, it carries it.-Remuneration!--why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word.

Enter Biron.

Biron. O, my good knave Costard exceedingly

well met.

Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation riband may a man buy for a remuneration?

Biron. What is a remuneration?

Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing.

Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk.
Cost. I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is.
Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave,
it is but this;

The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;


Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot.
For. Pardon, me, madam, for I meant not so.
Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say, no?
O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
For. Yea, madam, fair.
Nay, never paint me now;

Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
[Giving him Money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
Prin. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.-
But come, the bow:-Now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,'
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart:
As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford

When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her To any lady that subdues a lord.
And Rosaline they call her ask for her;
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd up counsel. There's thy guerdon

[Gives him Money.
Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than re-
muneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most sweet
gaerdon-I will do it, sir, in print.-Guerdon-remu-


Biron. O! And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have
been love's whip;

A very headle to a humorous sigh;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting paritors,-O my little heart!--
And I to be a corporal of his field,

And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;.
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes:
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan;
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit.


SCENE I. Another Part of the same.
Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine,

Boyet, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.
Prin. Was that the king, that sparr'd his horse so
Against the steep uprising of the hill? [hard

Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind.
Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murderer in?

For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot.

Enter Costard.

Prin. Here comes a member of the commonwealth. Cost. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.


Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin. The thickest, and the tallest.
Cost. The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; trath is
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.
Prin. What's your will, sir? what's your will?
Cost, I have a letter from monsieur Biron, to one

lady Rosaline.

Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend of Stand aside, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve; Break up this capon.


I am bound to serve.-
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

We will read it, I swear:
Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.
Boyet. [Reads] By heaven, that thou art fair is
most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth
itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair,
beautiful than beauteous; truer than truth itself,
have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The mag-
nanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye
upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelo-
phon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni,
vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (Ó
base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw,
and overcame: he came, one; saw, two; overcame,
three. Who came the king, Why did he come to
see; Why did he see? to overcome: To chom came
he? to the beggar; What saw he? the beggar; Who
overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory;
On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd;
On whose side? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a
nuptial; On whose side! the king's?-no, on both in
one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands
the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth
thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may:
Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat
thy love! I will. What shalt thou exchange for
rags robes; For tittles? titles; For thyself? me.
Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy
foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy
every part.

Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play:

But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.

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Thou, fellow, a word:

Who gave thee this letter?
I told you; my lord.
Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it?
From my lord to my lady.
Prin. From which lord, to which lady?
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline. [away.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords,
Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princess end Train.
Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?
Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.
Why, she that bears the bow.
Finely put off!
Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou
Hang me by the neck, if horus that year miscarry.
Finely put on!


Ros. Well then, I am the shooter. Boyet. And who is your deer? Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come near. Finely put on, indeed!

Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow. [now? Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, [Singing.
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can.

[Exeunt Ros. and Kath. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant! how both did fit it!

Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it. [says my lady! Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, Let the mark have a prick in't to mete at, if it may be. Mar. Wide o'the bow hand! I'faith your hand is out. Cost. Indeed, a'must shoot nearer, or he'il ne'er

hit the clout.

[is in. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the


Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow

foul. [her to bowl. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night my good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria, Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O'my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit.

Armatho o'the one side,-O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan!
To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly
a'will swear!-

And his page o't'other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!

Sola, Sola! [Shouting within. Exit Costard, running.
SCENE II. The same.

Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull. Nath. Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,-blood; ripe as a pome water, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cœlo, the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithe's are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of in

sinuation, as it were, in via, in way of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his inclination,--after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, -to insert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus 1-0 thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!

Nath. Sir, he bath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts;

And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be (Which we of taste and feeling are,) for those parts that do fructify in us more than he. [a fool, For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school:

But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind. Dull. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your wit, [weeks old as yet? What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dietynna, good man Dull. Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam was [score. And raught not to five weeks, when he came to fiveThe allusion holds in the exchange.

no more;

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess kill'ď.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the ignoraut, I have call'd the deer the princess kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility. The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket; [with shooting. The dogs did yell; put I to sore, then sorel jumps Some say, a sore, but not a sore, till now made sore from thicket; [hooting.

If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; O Or pricket, sore, or else sorel: the people fall a

sore L!

[more L.

of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one

Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you you are a good member of the commonwealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us.

Enter Jaquenetta and Costard. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person. Hol. Master person,-quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one?

Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho I beseech you read it.

Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub


Ruminat,--and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice: Vinegia, Vinegia,

kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; 1'faith, will not. O, but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o'my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it sweet clown, sweeter 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.

Chi non le vede, ei non te pregia. Old Mantuan old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not.-Ut, re, sol, la, mi, Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or, rather, as Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses? Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, domine.

Nath. [Reads] If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?

Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice; Well learned is that tongue, that well can the com


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Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. Celestial, as thou art, Oh pardon, love, this wrong, That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue! Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent let me surpervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man and why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But damosella virgin, was this directed to you? Jaq. Ay, sir, from one monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snowwhite hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written


Your ladyship's in all desired employment, BIRON. Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.-Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu! Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save your life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl. Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religionsly; and, as a certain father saith

Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; Did they please you, Sir Nathaniel!

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society.

Nath. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text,) is the happiness of life.

Hol. Aud, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir, [To Dull.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Another Part of the same.
Enter Biron, with a Paper.

Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am Coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; detile! a foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it

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Biron. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven !-Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap-I'faith secrets.


King. Reads So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light No drop but as a coach doth carry thee, Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:

So ridest thou triumphing in my woe;
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through thy grief will show
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.

queen of queens, how far dost thou excel! No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he come here? [Steps aside.

Enter Longaville, with a Paper. What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear. Biron. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool, appear! [Aside. Long. Ah me! I am forsworn. Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. [Aside. King. In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in shame! [Aside. Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name.

by two, that I know:


[Aside. Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not 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 O sweet Maria, empress of my love! These numbers will I tear, and write in prose. Biron. [Aside.] O, rhymes are guards on wanton Disfigure not his slop. [Cupid's hose: Long. This same shall go. [He reads the Sonnet. Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye ('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,) Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment. A woman I forstore; 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 sun, which on my earth doth 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 wise, To lose an oath to win a paradise?

Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity;

A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend! we are much out o'the


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 sit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish, Dumain transform'd four woodcocks in a dish! Dum. O most divine Kate!


Dum. As upright as the cedar. Biron.

O most profane coxcomb! [Aside. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth she is but corporal; there you lie. [Aside. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. [Aside. Stoop, I say; Aside. As fair as day. Biron, Ay, as some days; but then no sau must [Aside. And I had mine! [Aside. King. And I mine too, good lord! [Aside. Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word? [Aside.

Her shoulder is with child.


Dum. O that I had my wish! Long.

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 saucers; Sweet misprision! [Aside. Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. [Aside.

Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.

Dum. On a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air;
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would might triumph so!
But alack, my hand is sworn,
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it in in me,
That I am forsworn for thee:

Thou for whom even Jove would swear,
Juno but an Ethiop were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

This will I send; and something else more plain,
That shall express my true love's fasting pain.
O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville,
Were lovers too! ill, to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note;
For none offend, where all alike do dote.

Long. Dumain, [Advancing.] thy love is far from That in love's grief desir'st society:


You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o'erheard, and taken napping so.
King. Come, sir, [Advancing.] you blush; as his
your case is such

You chide at him, offending twice as much :
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom, to keep down his heart.

I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion;
Saw signs 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 paradise break faith and troth; [To Long.
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To Dumain.
What will Biron 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,
There is no certain princess that appears:
You'll not be perjur'd, 'tis a bateful thing;
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?"

You found his mote; the king your mote did see;
But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of foolery I have seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat !
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tane a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumain?
And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege's all about the breast:-
A caudle, ho!
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you;
I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in ;
I am betray'd, by keeping company
With moon-like men, of strange inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb?—
Soft; Whither away so fast?
A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
Biron. I post from love; good lover, let me go.
Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.

Jaq. God bless the king!

What present hast thou there?

Cost. Some certain treason.


What makes treason here?

Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir.

If it mar nothing neither, The treason, and you, go in peace away together. Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read; Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over. [Giving him the Letter. Where hadst thou it?

Jaq. Of Costard.

King. Where hadst thou it?

Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou [not fear it.

tear it?

Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it.

Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. [Picks up the Pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [To Costard.] you were born to do me shame.Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess. King. What?

Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make He, he, and you, my liege, and I, [up the mess : Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. Dum. Now the number is even. Biron.

True, true; we are four :

Will these turtles be gone? King.

Hence, sirs; away.

Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Cost, and Jaq. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us embrace! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be: The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; Young blood will not obey an old decree : We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands must we be forsworn, [thine? King, What, did these rent lines show some love of Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, [Rosaline, At the first opening of the gorgeous east. Bows not his vassal head; and, strucken blind, Kisses the base ground with obedient breast! What peremptory eagle-sighted eye


Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
That is not blinded by her majesty ?
King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron :
O, but for my love, day would turn to night!

Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty
Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek;
Where several worthies make one dignity;
Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek.

Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,--
Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not:
To things of sale a seller's praise belongs;

She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot. A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,

Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,

And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
O, 'tis the sun, that maketh all things shine!
King. By heaven, thy love black as ebony.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair, that is not full so black.
King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night;
And beauty's erest becomes the heavens well.
Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of
O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt, [light.

It mourns, that painting, and usarping hair,
Should ravish doters with a false aspect;
And therefore is she born to make black fair.
Her favour turns the fashion of the days;

For native blood is counted painting now;
And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,


Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her,are chimney-sweepers black. Long. And, since her time, are colliers counted bright. King, And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be wash'd away. King. "Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. [plain, Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as she. Dum. I never knew man hold wild stuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face [Showing his Shoe. Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread! Dum. O vile! then as she goes, what upward lies The street should see as she walk'd overhead. King. But what of this? Are we not all in love? Biron. O,nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn. King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. [prove Dum. Ay, marry, there;-some flattery for this evil. Long. O, some authority how to proceed: Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some salve for perjury. Biron. O, tis more than need! Have at you then, affection's men at arms: Consider, what you first did swear unto :To fast,-to study, and to see no woman;Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth. Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young; And abstinence engenders maladies.

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And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you hath forsworn his book:
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive;
They are the ground, the books, the academes,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, universal plodding prisons up.
The nimble spirits in the arteries;
As motion, and long during action, tires,

The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forsworn the use of eyes;
And study too, the causer of your yow:
For where is any author in the world, A
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
Then, when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
Do we not likewise see our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forsworn our books;
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beanteous tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore finding barren practisers.

Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil:
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye;
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind;
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd;
Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible,
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails;
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
For valour, is not love a Hercules,

Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as sphinx; as sweet, and musical,
As bright Apollo's lute strung with his hair;
And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs; \
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world;
Else, none at all in aught proves excellent:
Then fools you were these women to forswear;
Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love;
Or, for love's sake, a word that loves all men;
Or, for men's sake, the authors of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men ;
Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion to be thus forsworn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;
And who can sever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!
Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them,
Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd,
In conflict that you get the sun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by: Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France? King. And win them too: therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents. [thither; Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them Then, homeward, every man attach the hand Of his fair mistress; in the afternoon We will with some strange pastime solace them, Such as the shortness of the time can shape; For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours, Fore-run fair love, strewing her way with flowers, King, Away, away! no time shall be omitted, That will be time, and may by us be fitted. Biron, Allons! allons!-Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn; And justice always whirls in equal measure: Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; If so, our copper buys no better treasure.



SCENE I. Another Part of the same. Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.

Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious: pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.

Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Takes out his Table-Book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography, as to speak, dout, fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t: he

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