The Works of William Shakespeare

sir, is liable, congruent and measurable for the afternoon: the word is well culled, chose, sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure ye, very good friend: for what is inward between us, let it pass. I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy; I beseech ; thee, apparel thy head: and among other important and most serious designs, and of great import indeed, 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 secrecy,-that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antique, 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, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistants, at 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.

130

Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself and this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; 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 make an offence gracious, though few have the 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.

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!
Look you what I have from the loving king.
Ros. Madame, 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,
Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
Ros. That was the way to make his godhead

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 cister.

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 ha' 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. 20
Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

Ros.
I would you
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron:
The numbers true; and, were the numbering too,
150 I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
Prin. Any thing like?

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antique. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken

no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir. Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

Ros. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion. 41
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
Ros. 'Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your
debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter:

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or IO that your face were not so full of O's!

will play

160

On the tabor to the Worthies, and let them

dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away!

[Exeunt.

Kath. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows.

Prin. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?

Kath. Madam, this glove.

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

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 compiled, profound simplicity.

Mar. This and these pearls to me sent Lon-
gaville:

The letter is too long by half a mile.

[ACT V.

For,' quoth the king, 'an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.'
The boy replied, 'An angel is not evil;

I should have fear'd her had she been a devil.'
With that, all laugh'd and clapp'd him on the
shoulder,

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder:
One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and swore

Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in A better speech was never spoke before;
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 mock-
ing so.

That same Biron I'll torture ere I go:

O that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn and beg and seek
And wait the season and observe the times
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes
And shape his service wholly to my hests
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So perttaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
That he should be my fool and I his fate.
Prin. None are so surely caught, when they
are catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd, 70
Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such

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.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his
face.

Enter BOYEt.

Boyet. O,I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's
her grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.

80 Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are Prepare, madam, prepare! Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised,

Armed in arguments; you'll be surprised:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are
they

That charge their breath against us? say, scout,

say.

Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sysamore
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
When, lo! to interrupt my purposed rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguised they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action and accent did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak,' and 'thus thy body bear :'
And ever and anon they made a doubt
Presence majestical would put him out;

ΙΟΙ

110

Another, with his finger and his thumb,
Cried, 'Via! we will do't, come what will come;'
The third he caper'd, and cried, 'All goes well;'
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.

Prin.

But what, but what, come they to visit

us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparell'a
thus,

Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance;
Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
And every one his love-feat will advance
By favours several which they did bestow.
Unto his several mistress, which they'll know

120

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be
task'd;

For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
And not a man of them shall have the grace,

Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, 130
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
And then the king will court thee for his dear:
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.

And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.

Ros. Come on, then; wear the favours most
in sight.

140

Kath. But in this changing what is your intent?
They do it but in mocking merriment;
Prin. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs:
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
With visages display'd, to talk and greet.
Upon the next occasion that we meet,

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. 150
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.
Boyet. The trumpet sounds: be mask'd; the
(Trumpets sound within.
maskers come.
[The Ladies mask.

Enter Blackamoors with music; MOTH; the
King, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in
Russian habits, and masked.

Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the
earth!-

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman. 'veal' a calf?

Long, A calf, fair lady!

Kath.

Is not

No, a fair lord calf.

Long. Let's part the word.
Kath.

No, I'll not be your half:
Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.
Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these
250
sharp mocks!

Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.
Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do

grow.

Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Kath. Bleat softly then; the butcher hears
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are
[They converse apart.

you cry.

as keen

As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than

Above the sense of sense; so sensible may be seen, Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings

260

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.

Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. [Exeunt King, Lords, and Blackamoors. Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with breaths puff'd out. your sweet 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 tonight? 270

Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros. O, 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. 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 called me?
Prin.

Kath. Yes, in good faith.
Prin.

Qualm, perhaps. Go, sickness as thou art! 280 Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.

But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith

to me.

Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give

ear:

Immediately they will again be here

In their own shapes; for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity,
Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows, 290 And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:

[ACT V.

Boyet. Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud; Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,

+Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

If they return in their own shapes to woo?
Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do,

Let's mock them still, as well known as disguised:
Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advised,
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
And wonder what they were and to what end
Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
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 o'er land. [Exeunt Princess, Rosaline, Katharine, and Maria.

Re-enter the King, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and
DUMAIN, in their proper habits.

King Fair sir, God save you! Where's the
princess?
Please it your

Boyet. Gone to her tent. majesty

And utters it again when God doth please:
He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve;
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he
That kiss'd his hand away
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
In honourable terms: nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly; and in ushering
Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet;
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
To show his teeth as white as whale's bone;
And consciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.
King. A blister on his sweet tongue,
That put Armado's page out of his part!
heart,
Biron. See where it comes! Behaviour, what

Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou
now?

Re-enter the Princess, ushered by BOYET; ROSA-
King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of
LINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE.
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. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your

Vow:

Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke:

The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unsullied lily, I protest,

351

A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house's guest;
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have lived in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
We have had pastimes here and pleasant game:
A mess of Russians left us but of late. 361
King. How, madam! Russians!
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.

370

Biron. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle

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 igno

rance;

400

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 schoolboy's tongue, Nor never come in vizard to my friend, Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song! Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,

Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:

410

I do forswear them; and I here protest,
By this white glove,-how white the hand,
God knows!-

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas and honest kersey noes:
And, to begin, wench,--so God help me, la !—
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Ros. Sans sans, I pray you.
Biron.
Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick;
I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see:
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

420

Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens

When you then were here,

What did you whisper in your lady's ear? 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 forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of

mine.

441

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The Works of William Shakespeare, Band 1