Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,-thy rance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing P'envoy; begin. but this: Bear this significant to the country-maid Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [Giving him in the mail, sír: Ó, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, reno l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain! warding my dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit. Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs adieu. provokes me to ridiculous smiling: Ô, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve?

Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?

Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain

Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.

I will example it:

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. There's the moral: Now the l'envoy.

Moth. I will add the l'envoy: Say the moral again.

Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding four.

Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow
with my l'envoy.

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three: Arm. Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four.

Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; Would you desire more?

Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat:

Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.

To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and loose:

Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?

Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.

Then call'd you for the l'envoy.

Cost. True, and I for a plantain; Thus came your argument in;

Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;

And he ended the market.

Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin?

Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy :

I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost. Till there be no more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances:-I smell
some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.

Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony? Jew![Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! 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 ribbon 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
morning.

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;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her

name,

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; go.
[Gives him money.

Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than
remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most
sweet guerdon!-I will do it, sir, in print.^-Guer-
don-remuneration.
[Exit.

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

A very beadle to a humourous sigh;
A critie; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
This whimpled, 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,

Cost. True, true; and now you will be my pur-And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop! gation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from du

(1) An old French term for concluding verses, which served either to convey the moral, or to address the poem to some person. (2) Delightful. (3) Reward.

What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,

(4) With the utmost exactness.
(5) Hooded, veiled. (6) Petticoats.

(7) The officers of the spiritual courts who serve citations.

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.

ACT IV.

Against the steep uprising of the hill?

[Exit.

Enter

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.
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?

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; truth
is truth.

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 mine:

SCENE I-Another part of the same. Stand aside, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve ; the Princess, Rosaline, María, Katharine, Boyet, Break up this capon.2 Boyet. I am bound to serve.Lords, attendants, and a Forester. This letter is mistook, it importeth none here; Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse It is writ to Jaquenetta. so hard Prin. 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 magnanimous and most illustrate3 king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenélophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar (O 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 whom 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 enriched; 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 A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.-rags? robes; For tittles, tilles: For thyself, me.

O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for wo!
For. Yea, madam, fair.
Prin.
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!

But come, the bow:-Now mercy goes to kill,
A 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,'

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,
Don Adriano de Armado.

That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill. Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar

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-sove-
reignty

Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord.

(1) God give you good even.

(2) Open this letter. (3) Illustrious.

'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.

Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited
this letter?

What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?

Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember

the style.

Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile.

(4) Just now.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it here in court;

were, so fit.

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport Armatho o' the one side,-O, a most dainty man!

To the prince, and his book-mates.
Prin.

To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan!

Thou, fellow, a word: To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will swear!

[Shouting within. [Exit Costard, running.

Enter Holofernes, Sir

Nathaniel, and Dull.

Who gave thee this letter?
Cost.
I told you; my lord. And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit!
Prin. To whom should'st thou give it?
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
Cost.
From my lord to my lady. Sola, sola!
Prin. From which lord, to which lady?
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, SCENE II.-The same.
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come,
lords, away.
Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another
day.
[Exit Princess and Train.
Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor ?
Ros.
Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.
Ros.
Why, she that bears the bow.

Finely put off!
Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou
marry,

Hang me by the neck, if horns 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.

Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her now?

a

Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was 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.

Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, says my lady!

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'll ne'er hit the clout.

Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike your

hand is in.

Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving

the pin.

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

Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her to bowl." 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 (1) A species of apple.

(2) A low fellow.

Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,blood; ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of calo,-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 epithets 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 insinuation, 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, uncon firmed 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 !-0 thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath 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.
For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet,
or a fool,

So, were there a patch2 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,

What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, 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

and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the prin- Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful cess kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour

prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.

the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the princess Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine

kill'd, a pricket.

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

eyes;

Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall sufargues facility.

The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket;

fice;

Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend:

Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without won

sore with shooting..

The dogs did yell; put L to sore, then sorel jumps|

from thicket;

der;

(Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;)

Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his

hooting. If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; 0 sore L!

Of one sore I a hundred make, by adding but

one more L.

Nath. A rare talent! Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here him with a talent. are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy,

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovia foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, dius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired deilver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the horse his rider.-But damosella virgin, was this gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am directed to you?

thankful for it.

Jaq. Ay, sir, from one monsieur Biron, one of

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so the strange queen's lords. may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the by you, and their daughters profit very greatly un-snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosader you: you are a good member of the common-line. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto:

wealth.

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 parson,-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 gelidâ quando pecus omne
sub umbrâ.

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

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, Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.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, very religiously; and, as a certain father saithNath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God,

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.

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

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

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

domine.

Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall

swear to love?

I

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

cludes it.-Sir, [To Dull.] I do invite you too; you Hol. And certes, the text most infallibly conAh, never faith could hold, if not to beauty gentles are at their game, and we will to our shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the recreation.

vowed!

[Exeunt.

(1) Horse adorned with ribbands.

(2) In truth.

SCENE III-Another part of the same. Enter These numbers will I tear, and write in prose. Biron. [Aside.] O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose:

Biron, with a paper.

This same shall go.

[He reads the sonnet.

('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,) Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

A

Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am Disfigure not his slop. coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am Long. toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; defile!' a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so, they Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye 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 kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i'faith, I 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 here 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. Enter the King, with a paper.

King. Ah me!

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 not

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;
Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee,

So ridest thou triumphing in my wo:
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 will keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel!
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.—
How shall she know my grief? I'll drop the paper;
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes 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, wear

Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment.
woman I forswore; but, I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee;
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gained, 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 way.

Enter Dumain, with a paper.

stay.

Long. By whom shall I send this?-Company!
[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!

Biron. O most profane coxcomb! [Aside.
Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye!
Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you
[Aside.

lie.

Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted.1

Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted,
[Aside.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.
Biron.

Her shoulder is with child.

Stoop, I say; [Aside. As fair as day.

Dum.
Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must
shine.
[Aside.
Dum. O that I had my wish!
Long.
And I had mine! [Aside.
King. And I mine too, good Lord!
Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good

Aside.

[Aside.

word? Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Aside. Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Biron. A fever in your blood, why, then inci sion Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision!

ing papers. King. In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in [Aside. Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name? [Aside.

shame!

Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not by two, that I know:

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

move:

O sweet Maria, empress of my love!

(1) Outstripped, surpassed.

[Aside,

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

Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary
wit.
[Aside.

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.

Y