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. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,) Although not valued to the money's worth. Which we much rather had depart withal', Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make 3 Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, depart withal,] To depart and to part were anciently synonymous. VOL. II. с с And wrong the reputation of your name, Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers King. Satisfy me so. Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: 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. And yours from long living! [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word; What lady is that same ? Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. white? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name. 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. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit LONG. 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. Boyet. Boyet. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. [Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though several they be3. Mar. To my 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. Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire 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, Methought all his senses were lock'd in his cye, Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were glass'd, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. 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? Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. |