And so she died: had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might have 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
dark word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.
Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

out.

Kath. You'll mar the light, by taking it in snuff † ; Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark. Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not,-O, that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too:

Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros.

I would, you knew :
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 Birón:

The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground;
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, 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:
O, that

your face were not so full of O's!

Kath. A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows! Prin. But what was sent to you from fair Du

main ?

* Formerly a term of endearment.

+ In anger.

Kath. Madam, this glove.

Prin.

Did he not send you twain?

Kath. Yes, madam; and moreover,

Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:

A huge translation of hypocrisy,

Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.

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 so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. That same Birón 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 behests;
And make him proud, to make me proud that jests!
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 excess,

As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note,
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

Enter Boyet.

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

Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! 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 hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are
they,

That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour:
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd 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, disguis'd 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 :
For, quoth the king, an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.
The boy reply'd, An angel is not evil;

I should have feared 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,
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd, Via! we will do't, come what will come ;
The third he caper'd, and cry'd, All goes well :
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell,