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Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark | And gives to every power a double power,

is light.

Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain,

For fear their colours should be wash'd


King. Twere good, yours did; for, Sir, to tell you plain,

I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. 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 vile stuff so
my foot and her
[Showing his shoe.
were paved with

Long. Look, here's thy love
face see.
Biron. Oh! if the streets
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 over head.

King. But what of this? Are we not all in love?

Biron. Oh! nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.

King. Then leave this chat; and, good Birón now prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there;-some flattery for this evil.

Long. Oh! some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.

Dam. Some salve for perjury.

Biron. Oh! '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.

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

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 vow:
For where is any author in the world,
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?
Oh! 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

In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
Of beauteous 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;


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


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

Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs;
Oh! then his lines would ravish savage ears,
Aud 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 academnes,
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

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 wo-

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 fors worn:
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 lords;

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


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. Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them thither;

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

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 mea

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andacions without impudency, learned without pleased, that thou wert but my bastard! what a opinion, and strange without heresy. I did joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to; converse this quondam day with a companion thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or they say. called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tamquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filled, 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 perigrinate as I may call it.

Nath. A most singular and choice epithet.

Hol. Oh! I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.

Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be singled from the barbarons. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain ?

Hol. Or, mons, the bill.

Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.

Hol. I do, sans question.

[Takes out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbo- Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure sity finer than the staple of his argument I and affection, to congratulate the princess at her abhor such fanatical phantasms, such unsociable pavilion, in the posteriors of this day; which the and point-devise companions; such rackers of rude multitude call the afternoon. orthography, as to speak, dout, fine, when he Hol. The posterior of the day, most geneshould say, doubt; det, when he should pro-rous Sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable nounce, debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t: he clepeth for the afternoon: the word is well cull'd, chose; a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour, vocatur, sweet and apt, I do assure you, Sir, I do asnebour, neigh, abbreviated, ne: This is abhomi- sure. nable, (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne intelligis domine ? to make frantic, lunatic.

Nath. Laus deo, bone intelligo.

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Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend: -For what is inward between us, let it pass : -I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ;

Hol. Bone?-bone, for bene: Priscian a I beseech thee, apparel thy head;-and among

little scratch'd; 'twill serve.


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Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd.
Hol. Most military Sir, salutation.
Moth. They have been at a great feast of lan-
guages, and stolen the scraps.

[TO COSTARD aside.
Cost. Oh! they have lived long in the alms-
basket of words! I marvel, thy master hath not
eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long
by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou
art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
Moth. Peace: the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur, [To HoL.] are you not let

ter'd ?

Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook:

What is a, b, spelt backward with a horn on his


Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. Moth. Ba, most silly sheep, with a You hear his learning.

other importunate 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 antick, or fire-work. 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, horn:-illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant? Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, l.—

Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it; o, u.

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

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallaut gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pom

Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Miditerra-pey the great; the page, Hercules. neum, a sweet touch, ¶ a quick venew ** of wit: snip, snap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect; true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure ?
Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and will whip about your infamy circum circà; A gig of a cuckold's horn!


Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I bad of thy master, thou half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeonegg of discretion. Oh! an the heavens were so

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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.

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

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Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

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

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another part of the same.-Before the PRINCESS' Pavilion.


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. Madain, came nothing else along with
that ?

Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in ryhme,

As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and ail:
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
Ros. That was the way to make his god-head

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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-Oh! 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. I would, you knew:

An if my face were but as fair as your's,
My favour were as great; he witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Birón:
The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring

I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
Oh! he hath drawn my picture in his letter !
Prin. Any thing like?

Ros. Much, in the letters; nothing in the praise.

Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die
your debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter:
Oh! that your face were not so full of O's!
Kath. A pox of that just; and beshrew all
shrows !

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

Kath. Madain, 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.

Mar. This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville;

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


Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.

That same Birón I'll torture ere I go.
Oh! that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and

And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes:
And shape his service wholly to my bebests;
And make him proud to make me proud that

So portent-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, 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


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 ;
Eince 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.

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

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?

Boyet. Prepare, madam, prepare !Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,

Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd: Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly bence.

Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are they,

That charge their breath against us? say, scout,


Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,

I thought to close mine eyes some half au bour:

When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold address'd
The king and his companions: warily

I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty Lnavish page,
That well by heart hath coun'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body

And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Presence majestical would put him out:
For, quoth the king, an angel shalt thou


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


Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus ; and fleer'd and swore,
A better speech was never spoke before:
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 that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter so profound,
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 apparel'd


Like Moscovites, or Russians as I guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance :
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several, which they did bestow.
Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be
task'd :-

For ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
And not a man of them shall have the grace
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.-
Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear;
And then the king will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me

So shall Birón take me for Rosaline.-
And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

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


They do it but in mocking 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'er

thrown ;

To make their's our's, and our's none but our


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 maskers come. [The ladies mask.

Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in Russian habits, and masked; MOTH, Musicians, and Attendants.

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

Boyet. 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-bucks-to mortal views!

Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. Moth. That ever turned their eyes to mortal views! Out

Boyet. True; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe

Not to behold

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

Moth. Once to behold your sun-beamed eyes, -with your sun-beamed eyesBoyet. 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:
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess? Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace and gentle vistation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.

Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be


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

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


And many miles; the princess bids you tell,
How many inches do fill up one mile.
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary

Boyet. She hears herself.

Ros. How many weary steps,

Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for

Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.

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 sbine

(Those clouds remov❜d,) upon our wat'ry 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 [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance :-thus change I like the



King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estrang'd?

Ros. You took the moon at full; but now she's chang'd.

King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it.

King. But your legs should do it.

Ros. Since you are strangers and come here by chance,

We'll not be nice: take hands ;-we will not dance.

King. Why take we hands then?
Ros. Only to part friends :-

Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure


King. More measure of this measure; be not


Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your


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Will they not, think you, hang themselves to night?

Or ever, but in visors, show their faces ? This pert Birón was out of countenance quite. Ros. Oh! 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; and my servant straight was mute.

Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;

And trow you, what he call'd me?
Prin. Qualm, perhaps.

Kath. Yes, in good faith.
Prin. Go, sickness as thou art !

Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. +

Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. But will you hear the king is my love sworn.

Biron. One word in secret.

Prin. Let it not be sweet.

Biron. Thou griev'st my gall. Prin. Gall? bitter.

Biron. Therefore meet.

[They converse apart.

Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?

Mar. Name it.

Dum. Fair lady,

Mar. Say you so? Fair lord,

Take that for your fair lady.

Dum. 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. Oh! 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.
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 sharp mocks !

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


Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.

Kath. Bleat softly hen, the butcher hears you cry. [They converse apart. 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.

Prin. And quick Birón hath plighted faith to


Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on


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; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:

Therefore change favours ; and when they repair,

Blow like sweet roses in the summer air. Prin. How blow? how blow speak to be un derstood.

Boyet. Fair ladies mask'd, are roses in their bud:

Dismask'd, their damask sweet conmixture shown,

Are angels veiling 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 ý gear;
And wonder, what they were; and to what end
Their shailow 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 band.

Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land.

[Exeunt PRIN. ROS. KATH. and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits. King. Fair Sir, God save you! Where is the princess?

Boyet. Cone 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

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[Exeunt KING, Lords, MOTH, Music and Attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.-At 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!

Falsify dice, lie.

wakes, and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs,

And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know Have not the grace to grace it with such show.

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