Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: By fixing it upon a fairer eye; That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks: Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are. Too much to know is to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are a breeding. Dum. How follows that? Biron. Dum. In reason nothing. Biron. Fit in his place and time. Something, then, in rhyme. King. Biron is like an envious sneaping frost, That bites the first-born infants of the spring. Biron. Well, say I am: why should proud summer boast, Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in any abortive birth? Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows; King. Well, set you out: go home, Biron: adieu! with you: And, though I have for barbarism spoke more, And bide the penance of each three years' day. Biron. [Reads.] Item, "That no woman shall come within a mile of my court."- -Hath this been proclaim'd? Long. Four days ago. Biron. Let's see the penalty. [Reads.] "On pain of losing her tongue."-Who devis'd this penalty? Long. Marry, that did I. Biron. Sweet lord, and why? Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. Biron. A dangerous law against garrulity! [Reads.] Item, "If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise." This article, my liege, yourself must break; For, well you know, here comes in embassy The French king's daughter with yourself to speak,A maid of grace, and complete majesty,About surrender up of Aquitain To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Therefore, this article is made in vain, Or vainly comes th' admired princess rather. Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn For every man with his affects is born, Not by might master'd, but by special grace. If I break faith, this word shall plead for me, I am forsworn on mere necessity. So to the laws at large I write my name; [Subscribes, Suggestions are to others, as to me; haunted With a refined traveller of Spain; A man in all the world-new fashions flaunted, For interim to our studies, shall relate In high-born words the worth of many a knight And I will use him for my minstrelsy. Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. Enter DULL, with a letter, and COSTARD. Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough; but I would see his own person in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he. Dull. Signior Arm-Arm-commends you. There's villainy abroad: this letter will tell you more. Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words. Long. A high hope for a low hearing: God grant us patience! Biron. To hear, or forbear hearing? Long. To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both. Biron. Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to chime in in the merriness. Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. Biron. In what manner? Cost. In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is, in manner and form following. Now, sir, for the manner, it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman; for the form,-in some form. Biron. For the following, sir? Cost. As it shall follow in my correction; and God defend the right! King. Will you hear this letter with attention? Cost. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh. King. [Reads.] "Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's God, and body's fostering patron,—" Cost. Not a word of Costard yet. King. "So it is,-" Cost. It may be so; but if he say it is so, he is, in telling true, but so, King. Peace! King. Did you hear the proclamation? Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it. King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench. Cost. I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damsel. King. Well, it was proclaimed damsel. Cost. This was no damsel neither, sir: she was a virgin. King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. Cost. -be to me, and every man that dares not fight. My lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er: Cost. of other men's secrets, I beseech you. Cost. Me. King."-with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I (as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Antony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation." Dull. Me, an't shall please you: I am Antony Dull. King. "For Jaquenetta, (so is the weaker vessel called) which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain, I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all complements of devoted and heart burnng heat of duty, "DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO." Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. And go we, lords, to put in practice that [Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE. Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir: for true it is, I was SCENE II.-ARMADO'S House in the Park. Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Moth. No, no; O lord! sir, no. Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty, and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my say- Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers. Thou heatest my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. [Aside.] He speaks the mere contrary : King. Ay, the best for the worst.-But, sirrah, what crosses love not him? say you to this? Cost. Sir, I confess the wench. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now, here is three studied ere you'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. [Aside.] To prove you a cypher. Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love; and, as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks, I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master. Arm. Most sweet Hercules!-More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back, like a porter, and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! Moth. A woman, master. Arm. Of what complexion? Who was Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since, but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune. Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. Moth. [Aside.] To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. Arm. Sing, boy: my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. Forbear, till this company be past. Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.—Maid. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Arm. I know where it is situate. [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or for they are but lightly rewarded. one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion. Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir. Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so, sir, for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and poetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known; For still her cheeks possess the same, Arm. Take away this villain: shut him up. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall seeMoth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt MоTH and COSTARD. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood) if I love; and how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel bu love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had a excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too har for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will no A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duell white and red. he regards not his disgrace is to be called boy, bu his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your armiger is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonnet-maker. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.—Another part of the Park. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the PRINCESS of France, ROSALINE, MARIA, Consider whom the king your father sends, Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, Tell him, the daughter of the king of France, Boyet. 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? In Normandy, saw I this Longaville. A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Kath. The young Dumaine, a well-accomplished youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Ros. Another of these students at that time Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love, Prin. Re-enter BOYET. 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, [The ladies mask. Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAINE, BIRON, and Attendants. 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 wide fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold: Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Biron. Now fair befal your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! Biron. And send you many lovers! King. Madam, your father here doth intimate But say, that he, or we, (as neither have) A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, 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 have 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 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. Prin. We arrest your word. Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum from special officers Of Charles his father. Satisfy me so. King. King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, You may not come, fair princess, within my gates; 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 mine 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? Ros. Alack! let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? [Stands back. What lady is that same? [Coming forward. Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well. Long. I beseech you a word. the white? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an light. [Exit. What is she in [Coming forward. you saw her in the Long. Perchance, light in the light. I desire her |