Prin. With what?

I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his, Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. Prin. Your reason ?

Prin. Come to our pavilion : Boyet is dispos'dBoyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire :

hath disclos'd. His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed, I only have made a mouth of his eye, Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed : By adding a tongue, which I know will not lie. His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be; skilfully. All senses to that sense did make their repair,

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of To feel only looking on fairest of fair.

him. Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye, Ros. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy ;

is but grim. Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? glass'd,


No. Did point you to buy them, along as you pass’d. Boyet.

What then, do you see? His face's own margin did quote such amazes,

Ros. Ay, our way to be gone. | That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes. Boyet.

You are too hard for me. [Exeunt.


SCENE I.-Another part of the Same.

you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy

Enter ARMADO and Moth.

Arm. I am all these three.
Song, See, my love.

Moth. And three times as much more, and yet Arm. Warble, child: make passionate my sense of nothing at all. hearing.

Arm. Fetch hither the swain : he must carry me a Moth, Concolinel (Amato bene.) [Singing. letter.

Arm. Sweet air!–Go, tenderness of years: take this Moth. A messenger well sympathised : a horse to key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festi- be ambassador for an ass. nately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou ? Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the brawl?

horse, for he is very slow-gaited: but I go. Arm. How meanest thou ? brawling in French? Arm. The way is but short. Away!

Moth. No, my complete master; but to jig off a Moth. As swift as lead, sir. tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ? humour it with turning up your eye-lids ; sigh a note, Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you Moth. Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no. swallowed love with singing love; sometime through Arm. I say, lead is slow. the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; Moth.

You are too swift sir, to say so: with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun? eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly's doub- Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric! let

, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he :like a man after the old painting; and keep not too I shoot thee at the swain. loog in one tune, but a snip and away. These are Moth.

Thump then, and I flee. (Exit. complements, these are humours; these betray nice Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and fair of wenches, that would be betrayed without these, and grace! make them men of note, (do you note, men ?) that most By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face : are affected to these.

Moist-eyed melancholy, valour gives thee place. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience ? My herald is return'd. Moth. By my pain of observation.

Re-enter Moth with Costard. Arm. But 0,—but 0,

Moth. A wonder, master! here's a Costard broken Moth. The hobby-horse is forgot.

in a shin. Arm. Callest thou my love hobby-horse ?

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,—thy l'envoy; Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and —begin. Four love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy! no salve in your love?

them all, sir : 0, sir, plantain, a plain plantain ! no Arm. Almost I had.

l'envoy, no l'envoy: no salve, sir, but a plantain. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.

thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars !

Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the Arm. What wilt thou prove ?

word l'envoy for a salve? Moth. A man, if I live : and this, by, in, and without, Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy upon the instant: by heart you love her, because your a salve ? heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her, Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue, or discourse, to because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart

make plain

will prove:

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Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.

Enter Biron. I will example it :

Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,

well met. Were still at odds, being but three.

Cost, Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may There's the moral: now the l'envoy.

a man buy for a remuneration ? Moth. I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.

Biron. What is a remuneration ? Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,

Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing. Showing it. Were still at odds, being but three.

Biron. O! why then, three-farthing-worth of silk. Moth. Until the goose came out of door,

Cost. I thank your worship. God be wi' you.
And stay'd the odds by making four.

Biron. O, stay, slave! I must employ thee : Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave, my l'envoy.

Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,

Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Were still at odds, being but three.

Biron. O! this afternoon.
Arm. Until the goose came out of door,

Cost. Well, I will do it, sir. Fare you well.
Staying the odds by making four.

Biron. 0! thou knowest not what it is.
A good l'envoy.

Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it. Moth. Ending in the goose ; would you desire more? Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first. Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose,

Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning. that's flat.

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat. It is but this.To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose : The princess comes to hunt here in the park, Let me see, a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.

And in her train there is a gentle lady; Arm. Come hither, come hither. How did this When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name, argument begin?

And Rosaline they call her : ask for her,
Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin. And to her white hand see thou do commend
Then call'd

for the l'envoy.

This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon“: go.
Cost. True, and I for a plantain : thus came your

[Gives him money. argument in;

Cost. Guerdon.—0, sweet guerdon! better than Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought, remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better. Most And he ended the market.

sweet guerdon !—I will do it, sir, in print.-Guerdon Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken -remuneration !

[Exit. in a shin?

Biron. 0!—And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

been love's whip; Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak A very beadle to a humorous sigh; that l'envoy.

A critic, nay, a night-watch constable, I, Costard, running out, that was safely within, A domineering pedant o'er the boy, Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Than whom no mortal so magnificent! Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.

This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy; Cost. Till there be more matter in the shin.

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Arm. Sirrah Costard, marry, I will enfranchise thee. Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,

Cost. O! marry me to one Frances ?-I smell some Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at Dread prince of plackets, king of cod-pieces, liberty, enfreedoming thy person : thou wert immured, Sole imperator, and great general restrained, captivated, bound.

Of trotting paritors, (O my little heart!) Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, And I to be a corporal of his field, and let me be loose.

And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop! Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee free from What? I love! I sue ! I seek a wife ! durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing A woman, that is like a German clock, but this : bear this significant [Giving a letter.) to the Still a repairing, ever out of frame, country maid Jaquenetta. There is remuneration ; for And never going aright; being a watch, the best ard of mine honour is rewarding my depen- But being watch'd it may still go right? dents. Moth, follow.

[Exit. Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all ; Moth. Like the sequel, 1.-Signior Costard, adieu. And, among three, to love the worst of all;

[Exit. A witty wanton with a velvet brow, Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes; Jew!

Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed, Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard : 0! that's the Latin word for three farthings: three And I to sigh for her! to watch for her! farthings, remuneration.—“What's the price of this To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague inkle ? A penny.—No, I'll give you a remuneration :” That Cupid will impose for my neglect why, it carries it.-Remuneration !-why, it is a fairer of his almighty dreadful little might. name than French crown. I will never buy and sell Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan: out of this word.

Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit.

SCENE I.- Another part of the Same.

This letter is mistook; it importeth none here:

It is writ to Jaquenetta. Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, KATHARINE,


We will read it, I swear. Boyer, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.

Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse so hard Boyet. [Reads.] “By heaven, that thou art fair, is Against the steep uprising of the hill ?

most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he. itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, Prin. Whoe'er a' was, a' show'd a mounting mind. beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch; commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnaniOn Saturday we will return to France.

mous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,

the pernicious and indubitate beggar Penelophon; That we must stand and play the murderer in? and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici ;

For. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (O base and A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw,

and overPrin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, came: he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot. Who came? the king; Why did he come? to see ;

For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. Why did he see? to overcome : To whom came he?

Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say, no? to the beggar; What saw he ? the beggar; Whom O, short-liv'd pride! Not fair ? alack for woe! overcame he ? the beggar. The conclusion is victory : For. Yes, madam, fair.

on whose side? the king's: the captive is enriched : Prin.

Nay, never paint me now: on whose side? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. nuptial : on whose side? the king's ?—no, on both in Here, good my glass, take this for telling true. one, or one in both. I am the king, for so stands the

[Giving him money. comparison ; thou the beggar, for so witnesseth thy Pair payment for foul words is more than due. lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall | For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. I enforce thy love? I could. Shall I entreat thy

Prin. See, see! my beauty will be sav'd by merit. love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags ? O heresy in faith, fit for these days !

robes; for tittles ? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.— expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my But come, the bow :-now mercy goes to kill, eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. And shooting well is then accounted ill.

Thine, in the dearest design of industry, Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:

“ Don ADRIANO DE ARMADO." Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;

“ Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar If wounding, then it was to show my skill,

'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his

prey; That more for praise than purpose meant to kill. Submissive fall his princely feet before, And, out of question, so it is sometimes:

And he from forage will incline to play: Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,

But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, Food for his rage, repasture for his den." We bend to that the working of the heart;

Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited As I for praise alone now seek to spill

this letter? The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill. What vane? what weather-cock ? did you ever hear

Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty better? Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be

Boyet. I am much deceiv'd, but I remember the style. Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er iterewhile. Prin. Only for praise ; and praise we may afford Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here To any lady that subdues a lord.

in court; Enter CostaRD.

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport Prin. Here comes a member of the commonwealth. To the prince, and his book-mates. Cast. God dig-you-den all. Pray you, which is the Prin.

Thou, fellow, a word. bead dy?

Who gave thee this letter ? | Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that Cost.

I told you; my lord. bave no heads.

Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it? Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?


From my lord to my lady. Prin. The thickest, and the tallest.

Prin. From which lord, to which lady? Cast. The thickest, and the tallest? it is so; truth Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, is truth.

To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline. An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. ---Come, lords, One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit. away.-Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here. Here, sweet, put up this : 'twill be thine another day. Pria. What's your will, sir ? what's your will ?

[Exeunt Princess and Train. Cat. I have a letter, from monsieur Biron to one Boyet. Who is the suitor ? who is the suitor ? lady Rosaline. [Giving it. Ros.

Shall I teach you to know? Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter! he's a good friend Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. of mine.


Why, she that bears the bow. Stand aside, good bearer.—Boyet, you can carve; Finely put off! Break up this capon.

(Handing it to him. Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but if thou Boyet. I am bound to serve.


may be.

Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket.
Finely put on!

Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of Ros. Well then, I am the shooter.

insinuation, as it were, in via, in way of explication ; Boyet. And who is your deer? facere, as it were, replication, or, rather

, ostentare, to Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come show, as it were, his inclination,-after his undressed, not near.

unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather Finely put on, indeed !

unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion,—to inMar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she sert again my haud credo for a deer. strikes at the brow.


. I said, the deer was not a haud credo : 'twas Boyet. But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit a pricket. her now?


. 'Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus ! Ros. Shall come upon thee with an old saying, 0, thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou that was a man when king Pepin of France was a look! little boy, as touching the hit it?

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that bred in a book; was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: little wench, as touching the hit it.

His intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,

not to think, Thou canst not hit it, my good man. Only sensible in the duller parts; and such barren Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,

plants An I cannot, another can.

Are set before us, that we thankful should be [Exeunt Ros. and Kath. Which we, having taste and feeling, are for those Cost. By my troth, most pleasant : how both did parts that do fructify in us more than he : fit it!

For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both or a fool, did hit it.

So, were there a patch set on learning, to set him in Boyet. A mark! O! mark but that mark: a mark, a school : says my lady.

But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.

Dúll. You two are book men : can you tell by your Mar. Wide o' the bow hand : i'faith, your hand is out. wit, Cost. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five hit the clout.

weeks old as yet? Boyet. An if my hand be out, then belike your Hol. Doctissimè, good man Dull; Dictynna, good hand is in.

man Dull. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin. Dull. What is Dictynna? Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips Nath. A title to Phæbe, to Luna, to the moon.

Hol. The moon was a month old when Adam was Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir : chal- no more ; lenge her to bowl.

And raught not to five weeks, when he came to fiveBoyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my score. good owl.

[Exeunt Boyet and Maria. The allusion holds in the exchange. Cost. By my soul, a swain ! a most simple clown! Dull. 'Tis true indeed : the collusion holds in the Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down ! exchange. O’my troth, most sweet jests ! most incony vulgar wit ! Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the alluWhen it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it sion holds in the exchange. were, so fit.

Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the exArmado o' the one side,—0, a most dainty man! change, for the moon is never but a month old; and To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan! I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess kill’a. To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal

epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the Looking babies in her eyes, his passion to declare. ignorant, I have call’d the deer the princess kill'd, a And his page o' t' other side, that handful of small wit! pricket. Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!

Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge ; so it Sola, sola!

[Shouting within. shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

[Exit Costard. Hol. I will something affect the letter, for it argues SCENE II.-The Same. facility.

[Reads. Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.

The preyful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing

pricket; Nath. Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore testimony of a good conscience.

with shooting Hol

. The deer was, as you know, sanguis, -—in The dogs did yell ; put 1 to sore, then sorel jumps from blood; ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth like thicket; a jewel in the ear of cælo,—the sky, the welkin, the Or pricket sore

, or else sorel; the people fall a hooting. heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of If sore be sore, then I to sore makes fifty sores; O sore 2! terra,—the soil, the land, the earth.

Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one more l. Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are Nath. A rare talent! sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: but, sir, I Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him assure ye, it was a buck of the first head.

with a talent.

[Aside. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple ;

grow foul.

will swear;

your life!

foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, Hol. I will overglance the superscript. "To the objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions : snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline." these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the nomination of the party writing to the person written mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in those unto: “Your ladyship's, in all desired employment, in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Biron." Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a my parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: by the way of progression, hath miscarried.—Trip and you are a good member of the commonwealth. go, my sweet : deliver this paper into the royal hand

Hol. Mehercle ! if their sons be ingenious, they of the king; it may concern much. Stay not thy shall want no instruction : if their daughters be capa- compliment; I forgive thy duty: adieu. ble, I will put it to them ; but, vir sapit, qui pauca Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.—Sir, God save loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth us. Enter JAQUENETTA and CostaRD.

Cost. Have with thee, my girl. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person.

[Exeunt Cost. and JAQ. Hól. Master person,-quasi pers-on.

An if one Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, should be pierced, which is the one?

very religiously; and, as a certain father saithCost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father; I do fear colourto a hogshead.

able colours. But, to return to the verses : did they Hoł. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of con- please you, sir Nathaniel ? ceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain Jag. Good master parson, be so good as read me pupil of mine ; where, if before repast it shall please this letter : it was given me by Costard, and sent me you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my from Don Armado : I beseech you, read it.

privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will umbrá

prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savourRuminat,--and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I ing of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice: society. -Venegia, Venegia,

Nath. And thank you too; for society (saith the Chi non te vede, non te pregia.

text) is the happiness of life. Old Mantuan ! old Mantuan! Who understandeth Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes thee not, loves thee not.—Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.- it.—Sir, [To Dull] I do invite you too: you shall Under pardon, sir, what are the contents ? or, rather, not say me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are as Horace says in his—What, my soul, verses ? at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt.

Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned.
Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse: lege,

SCENE III.- Another part of the Same. donine.

Enter Biron, with a paper. Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursto love?

ing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! a pitch-pitch that defiles. Defile ? a foul word. Though to myself forsworn, to thee Il faithful prove ; Well, set thee down, sorrow ! for so, they say, the fool Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! bowed.

By the lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; Study his bias leares, and makes his book thine eyes, it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved again o' my side ! Where all those pleasures live, that art would com- | I will not love; if I do, hang me: i'faith, I will not. prehend:

0! but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice. would not love her! yes, for her two eyes. Well, I Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee com- do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. mend;

By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rhyme, All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder; and to be melancholy; and here is part


my rhyme, Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire. and here my melancholy. Well, she bath one o' my Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful sonnets already: the clown bore it, the fool sent it, thunder,

and the lady bath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin, Celestial, as thou art, 0! pardon, love, this wrong, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly paper : God give him grace to groan ! tongue !

[Gets up into a tree. Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the

Enter the King, with a paper. Xcent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only King. Ay me! numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and Biron. [ Aside.] Shot, by heaven !—Proceed, sweet zolden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was Cupid : thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt the man: and why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling out under the left pap.— In faith, secrets ! the cdoriferous wers of fancy, the jerks of inven- King. [Reads.) So sweet a kiss golden sun gives not ton? Imitating is nothing: so doth the hound his To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, master, the ape his keeper, the trained horse his rider. As thine eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote | Bat damosella, virgin, was this directed to you? The dew of night that on my cheeks down flows :

Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright stange queen's lords.

Through the transparent bosom of the deep,


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