The Plays of William Shakespeare

ACT II.

SCENE I-Another part of the same. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other

Attendants.

Boyet.

NOW, madam, summon up your dearest spirits :
Consider who the king your father sends;
To whom he sends; and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem;
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain; a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker,-Good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame,
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor:
Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Importunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humble visag'd suitors his high will.

Beyet, Proud of employment, willingly I go. [Exit. Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?

1 Lord. Longaville is one.

Pris.

Know you the man? Mar, I know him, madam; at a marriage feast, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge solemnized, In Normandy, saw 1 this Longaville: A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms : Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, (If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,) Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will; Whose edge hath power to eut, whose will still wills It should none spare that come within his power.

Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Mar. They say so most, that most his humours know. Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest?

Kath. The young Dumain, a well accomplish'd youth,

Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd:
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit, to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alencon's once;

And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report, to his great worthiness.

Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: if I have heard a truth,
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every obiect that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love;

That every one her own hath garnished
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Re-enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance, lord?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he, and his competitors in oath,

Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt,
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
(Like one that comes here to besiege his court,)
Than seek a dispensation for his oath,
To let you enter his unpeopled house.
Here comes Navarre.

[The ladies mask. Enter King. Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and Attend

ents.

King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Na

varre.

Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine.

King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing

else.

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold;
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit. [Gives a paper.

King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
Prin. You will the sooner that I were away;
For you'll prove periur'd, if you make me stay.

Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Biron. I know, you did.

We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;
Which we much rather had depart withal,
And bave the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.

King. I do protest, I never heard of it;

And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,

Or yield up Aquitain.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come,
Where that and other specialties are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace!

King. Thy own wish wish I thee, in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train.

Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart, Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that

were a shame.

Lon. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?

Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.

Lon. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:

She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Lon. Nay, my choler is ended.

She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Biron. What's her name, in the cap? Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

[Erit Lon

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.

[Erit Biron.-Ladies unmask.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet

And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board.
Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!
Boyet.

And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finisk the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed, Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be; All senses to that sense did make their repair, To feel only looking on fairest of fair: Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye,

As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
Moth. A man, if I live: and this, by, in, and without,
Who tend'ring their own worth, from where they upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'td.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,

An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd-
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye
hath disclos'd:

I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.

Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully.

Mer. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of

him.

Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.
Beyet.

heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot en joy her.

Arm. I am all these three.

Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.

Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter.

Moth. A message well sympathised; a horse to be embassador for an ass!

Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?

Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the

horse, for he is very slow-gajted: But I go.

Arm. The way is but short; away.

Moth. As swift as lead, sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?

Moth. Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.

You are too bard for me. (Exeunt. Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun ?

ACT III.

SCENE L-Another part of the same. Enter Armado

and Moth.
Armado.

Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!

He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:-
I shoot thee at the swain.

Moth.

Thump then, and 1 flee. [Erit. Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace!

By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:

WARBLE, child; make passionate my sense of Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. hearing.

Moth. Concolinel

[Singing. Arm. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to

my love.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French bruwi?

Arm. How mean'st thou? brawling in French? Mah. No, my complete master: but to jig off a time at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin beldoublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours these betay nice wenches-that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Moth. By my penny of observation.

Arm. But O, but 0,

Moth. -The hobby-horse is forgot.

Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse?

Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and

your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almost I had.

Math. Negligent student! learn her by heart.

Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.

My herald is return'd.

Re-enter Moth and Costard.

Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,-thy len

voy;-begin.

Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no Penvoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain!

Arm. By virtue, thou enforeest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen: the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, 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;

Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I Would you desire more?

will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

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

Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.- || And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
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 ar
gument begin?

And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.

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.

[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.-Guerdon [Erit.

-remuneration.

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

A very beadle 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;

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; 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 more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances;-1 smell some
Penvoy, 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. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: Bear this significant to the country-maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [Giving him money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit.

Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, adien. Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my in-cony Jew! [Exit Moth.]-Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remunerationWhat'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, trou 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 morn-

ing.

Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Leige 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.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-Another part of the same. Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.

Princess.

WAS that the king, that spurr'd his horse so hard
Against the steep uprising of the hill?

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 sboot,
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?

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
it is but this;-

The princess comes to hunt here in the park,

And in her train there is a gentle lady;

For. Yes, madam, fair.
Prin.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.

When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;

name,

[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 air, 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;

I wounding, then it was to shew 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:

rags? robes; Fortittles, titles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy ffet, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry.

Don Adriano de Armado.

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.

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

What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever hear

better?

Prin. Here comes a member of the common-wealth. 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 maid's 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:

Stand aside, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve;
Break up this capon.
Boyet.

I am bound to serve.

This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.
Prin.

We will read it, I swear : Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. Boyrt. [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 bemteous; truer than truth itself, have commistrmien on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and maat illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernirous and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatemise in the vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicit, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one;

w, 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 begger; Who overcame he? the beggar: The concission 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? -na on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witmesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I say: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entred thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
To the prince and his book-mates.
Prin.

Who gave thee this letter?
Cost.

Thou, fellow, a word :

I told you; my lord.

From my lord to my lady.

Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it?

Cost.

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.

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.

Finely put off!

Why, she that bears the bow.

Boyct. 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?

Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a 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, 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; Amark, 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.

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The Plays of William Shakespeare, Band 1