תמונות בעמוד

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 befall your mask !
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers !
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns ;
Being but the one half of an entire sum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.
But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,)
Receiv'd that sum ; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more ; in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
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 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
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,


depart withal,] To depart and to part were anciently synonymous.


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.

We arrest your

Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

Satisfy me so.
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 received, 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 the heart.
Ros. Alack, let it blood.
Biron. Would that do it good ?

Ros. My physick says, I.
Biron. Will you prick’t with your eye?
Ros. No poynt“, with my knife.
Biron. Now, God save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living !
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring.
Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word; What lady is that

same ?
Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Ecit.
Long. I beseech you a word ; What is she in the

white ? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the

light. Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her


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

were a shame.
Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard !

Boyet. Good sir, be not offended :
She is an heir of Falconbridge.

Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.
Boyet. Not unlike, sir ; that


[Exit Long.
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 !
Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit BIRON.Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord ; Not a word with him but a jest.

* No poynt,] A negation borrowed from the French.


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 finish the

jest ? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

[Offering to kiss her. Mar.

Not so, gentle beast ; My lips are no common, though several they be!

Boyet. Belonging to whom ?


fortunes and me.
Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree.
The civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his book-men ; for here 'tis abused.

Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies) By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what ?
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;

My lips are no common, though several they be.] A play on the word several, which, besides its ordinary signification of separate, distinct, likewise signifies, in uninclosed lands, a certain portion of ground appropriated to either corn or meadow, adjoining the common field.

His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,] Although the expression in the text is extremely odd, I take the sense of it to be that his tongue envied the quickness of his eyes, and strove to be as rapid in its utterance, as they in their perception. Steevens.

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 cye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy ;
Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
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’dBoyet. 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 skil

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

him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father

is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? Mar.

No. Boyet.

What then, do you see? Ros. Ay, our way to be gone. Boyet.

You are too hard for me.



SCENE I. - Another Part of the same.

Enter ARMADO and Moth.

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of


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