too, but let that pass;-for I must tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal finger, thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable: some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass.The very all of all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secresy, that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antick, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance. Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine Worthies.-Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess, I say, none so fit as to present the nine Worthies. Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them? Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabeus; this swain, (because of his great limb or joint,) shall pass Pompey the great; the page, Hercules. Arm. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club. Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose. Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, "Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake!" that is the way to grace to do it. Arm. For the rest of the Worthies? Hol. I will play three myself. Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman! Arm. Shall I tell you a thing? Hol. We attend. Hol. Allons! we will employ thee. dance the hay. Hol. Most dull, honest Dull. To our sport, away! [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another part of the Same. Before the PRINCESS'S Pavilion. Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA. Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in: A lady wall'd about with diamonds! Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will Look you, what I have from the loving king. Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes; as much love in rhyme, As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, Ros. That was the way to make his god-head wax; For he hath been five thousand years a boy. Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him: a' kill'd your sister. Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might a' been a grandam ere she died; And so may you, for a light heart lives long. Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark. Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument. Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark. Kath. So do not you, for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you, and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not?—O! that's you care not for me. Ros. Great reason; for, past cure is still past care. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it? Ros. The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too, Ros. Much, in the letters, nothing in the praise. Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter: Prin. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows! But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumaine? Kath. Madam, this glove. Prin. Did he not send you twain? Kath. Yes, madam; and, moreover, Some thousand verses of a faithful lover: A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity. O! that I knew he were but in by the week! Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd, excess, As gravity's revolt to wantonness. Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote; Since all the power thereof it doth apply, To prove by wit worth in simplicity. Enter BOYET. Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Prepare, madam, prepare! they, That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say. I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour, I stole into a neighbour thicket by, That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage: I should have feared her, had she been a devil." shoulder, Making the bold wag by their praises bolder. Mar. This, and these pearls to me sent Longa- Cry'd "Via! we will do't, come what will come :" ville: The letter is too long by half a mile. Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart, The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part. Prin. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. That same Biron I'll torture ere I go. The third he caper'd, and cried, "All goes well:" Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess, Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance; Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd; For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd, Hold, Rosaline; this favour thou shalt wear, And change you favours, too; so shall your loves Ros. Come on then: wear the favours most in sight. Kath. But in this changing what is your intent? Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs : They do it but in mockery, merriment; And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal, Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages display'd, to talk, and greet. Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part. Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds: be mask'd, the [The Ladies mask. maskers come. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DvMAINE, in Russian habits, and masked; Moтн, Musicians, and Attendants. Moth. "All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!" Biron. Beauties no richer than rich taffata. Moth. "A holy parcel of the fairest dames, [The Ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views!" Biron. Their eyes," villain, "their eyes." Moth. "That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal Out" views! Boyet. True; "out," indeed. Moth. "Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold”— Biron. "Once to behold," rogue. Moth. "Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes, -with your sun-beamed eyes"— Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue. Ros. What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet. If they do speak our language, 'tis our will That some plain man recount their purposes. Boyet. What would you with the princess? Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be gone. King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles, To tread a measure with her on this grass. Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass. Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches Is in one mile? if they have measur'd many, The measure then of one is easily told. Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur'd miles, And many miles, the princess bids you tell, How many weary steps, Of many weary miles you have o'ergone, 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 removed) upon our watery 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. Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then! nay, you must do it soon. [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance :-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? Dum. Fair lady, Say you so? Fair lord. Take that for your fair lady. Please it you, As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. [They converse apart. Kath. What, was your visor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. Kath. O, for your reason! quickly, sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless visor half. Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman.-Is not veal a calf? Long. A calf, fair lady? Kath. No, a fair lord calf. 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, MoтH, 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 Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros. They were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumaine 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 statute caps. But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. 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 sweet roses in this summer air. 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 vailing clouds, or roses blown. Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo? Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well, known, as disguis'd. Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder, what they were, and to what end Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd, And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us. Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt PRINCESS, Ros., KATH., and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE, in their proper habits. King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the princess? Boyet. Gone to her tent: please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. [Exit. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas, At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; That put Armado's page out of his part! 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. Prin. Then wish me better: I will give you leave. King. We came to visit you, and purpose now To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it, then. 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, Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true.-It is not so, my lord: My lady (to the manner of the days) In courtesy gives undeserving praise. We four, indeed, confronted were with four In Russian habit; here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. Biron. This jest is dry to me.--Fair, gentle sweet, Is of that nature, that to your huge store 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 look you pale?— Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. Can any face of brass hold longer out?— Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; 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; |