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Scene II The same.

	[Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA]
PRINCESS	Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in: A lady wall'd about with diamonds! Look you what I have from the loving king.
ROSALINE	Madame, came nothing else along with that?
PRINCESS	Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all, That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
ROSALINE	That was the way to make his godhead wax, For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
KATHARINE	Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
ROSALINE	You'll ne'er be friends with him; a' kill'd your sister.
KATHARINE	He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might ha' been a grandam ere she died: And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
ROSALINE	What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?
KATHARINE	A light condition in a beauty dark.
ROSALINE	We need more light to find your meaning out.
KATHARINE	You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.
ROSALINE	Look what you do, you do it still i' the dark.
KATHARINE	So do not you, for you are a light wench.
ROSALINE	Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.
KATHARINE	You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.
ROSALINE	Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'
PRINCESS	Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it?
ROSALINE	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 Biron: The numbers true; and, were the numbering too, I were the fairest goddess on the ground: I am compared to twenty thousand fairs. O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
PRINCESS	Any thing like?
ROSALINE	Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
PRINCESS	Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
KATHARINE	Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
ROSALINE	'Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter: O, that your face were not so full of O's!
KATHARINE	A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows.
PRINCESS	But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?
KATHARINE	Madam, this glove.
PRINCESS	Did he not send you twain?
KATHARINE	Yes, madam, and moreover Some thousand verses of a faithful lover, A huge translation of hypocrisy, Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.
MARIA	This and these pearls to me sent Longaville: The letter is too long by half a mile.
PRINCESS	I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart The chain were longer and the letter short?
MARIA	Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
PRINCESS	We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
ROSALINE	They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. That same Biron 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 hests And make him proud to make me proud that jests! So perttaunt-like would I o'ersway his state That he should be my fool and I his fate.
PRINCESS	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.
ROSALINE	The blood of youth burns not with such excess As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
MARIA	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.
PRINCESS	Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
	[Enter BOYET]
BOYET	O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?
PRINCESS	Thy news Boyet?
BOYET	Prepare, madam, prepare! Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised, Armed in arguments; you'll be surprised: Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
PRINCESS	Saint Denis 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 purposed 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, disguised 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 replied, 'An angel is not evil; I should have fear'd 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, Cried, 'Via! we will do't, come what will come;' The third he caper'd, and cried, 'All goes well;' The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell. With that, they all did tumble on the ground, With such a zealous laughter, so profound, That in this spleen ridiculous appears, To cheque their folly, passion's solemn tears.
PRINCESS	But what, but what, come they to visit us?
BOYET	They do, they do: and are apparell'd thus. Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess. Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance; And every one his love-feat will advance Unto his several mistress, which they'll know By favours several which they did bestow.
PRINCESS	And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd; For, ladies, we shall every one be mask'd; And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despite of suit, to see a lady's face. Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, And then the king will court thee for his dear; Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine, So shall Biron take me for Rosaline. And change your favours too; so shall your loves Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.
ROSALINE	Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight.
KATHARINE	But in this changing what is your intent?
PRINCESS	The effect of my intent is to cross theirs: They do it but in mocking merriment; And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages displayed, to talk and greet.
ROSALINE	But shall we dance, if they desire to't?
PRINCESS	No, to the death, we will not move a foot; Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace, But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.
BOYET	Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part.
PRINCESS	Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown, To make theirs ours and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game, And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame.
	[Trumpets sound within]
BOYET	The trumpet sounds: be mask'd; the maskers come.
	[The Ladies mask]
	[Enter Blackamoors with music; MOTH; FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in Russian habits, and masked]
MOTH	All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!--
BOYET	Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
MOTH	A holy parcel of the fairest dames.
	[The Ladies turn their backs to him]
	That ever turn'd their--backs--to mortal views!
BIRON	[Aside to MOTH] Their eyes, villain, their eyes!
MOTH	That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!--Out--
BOYET	True; out indeed.
MOTH	Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold--
BIRON	[Aside to MOTH] Once to behold, rogue.
MOTH	Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes, --with your sun-beamed eyes--
BOYET	They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.'
MOTH	They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
BIRON	Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue!
	[Exit MOTH]
ROSALINE	What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet: If they do speak our language, 'tis our will: That some plain man recount their purposes Know what they would.
BOYET	What would you with the princess?
BIRON	Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE	What would they, say they?
BOYET	Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE	Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
BOYET	She says, you have it, and you may be gone.
FERDINAND	Say to her, we have measured many miles To tread a measure with her on this grass.
BOYET	They say, that they have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass.
ROSALINE	It is not so. Ask them how many inches Is in one mile: if they have measured many, The measure then of one is easily told.
BOYET	If to come hither you have measured miles, And many miles, the princess bids you tell How many inches doth fill up one mile.
BIRON	Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
BOYET	She hears herself.
ROSALINE	How many weary steps, Of many weary miles you have o'ergone, Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
BIRON	We number nothing that we spend for you: Our duty is so rich, so infinite, That we may do it still without accompt. Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face, That we, like savages, may worship it.
ROSALINE	My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
FERDINAND	Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine, Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
ROSALINE	O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water.
FERDINAND	Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change. Thou bid'st me beg: this begging is not strange.
ROSALINE	Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.
	[Music plays]
	Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon.
FERDINAND	Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
ROSALINE	You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.
FERDINAND	Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
ROSALINE	Our ears vouchsafe it.
FERDINAND	But your legs should do it.
ROSALINE	Since you are strangers and come here by chance, We'll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance.
FERDINAND	Why take we hands, then?
ROSALINE	Only to part friends: Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
FERDINAND	More measure of this measure; be not nice.
ROSALINE	We can afford no more at such a price.
FERDINAND	Prize you yourselves: what buys your company?
ROSALINE	Your absence only.
FERDINAND	That can never be.
ROSALINE	Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you.
FERDINAND	If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
ROSALINE	In private, then.
FERDINAND	I am best pleased with that.
	[They converse apart]
BIRON	White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
PRINCESS	Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
BIRON	Nay then, two treys, and if you grow so nice, Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice! There's half-a-dozen sweets.
PRINCESS	Seventh sweet, adieu: Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.
BIRON	One word in secret.
PRINCESS	Let it not be sweet.
BIRON	Thou grievest my gall.
PRINCESS	Gall! bitter.
BIRON	Therefore meet.
	[They converse apart]
DUMAIN	Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
MARIA	Name it.
DUMAIN	Fair lady,--
MARIA	Say you so? Fair lord,-- Take that for your fair lady.
DUMAIN	Please it you, As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
	[They converse apart]
KATHARINE	What, was your vizard made without a tongue?
LONGAVILLE	I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
KATHARINE	O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long.
LONGAVILLE	You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless vizard half.
KATHARINE	Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf?
LONGAVILLE	A calf, fair lady!
KATHARINE	No, a fair lord calf.
LONGAVILLE	Let's part the word.
KATHARINE	No, I'll not be your half Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.
LONGAVILLE	Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks! Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.
KATHARINE	Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
LONGAVILLE	One word in private with you, ere I die.
KATHARINE	Bleat softly then; the butcher hears you cry.
	[They converse apart]
BOYET	The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen, Above the sense of sense; so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
ROSALINE	Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
BIRON	By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
FERDINAND	Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
PRINCESS	Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
	[Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors]
	Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?
BOYET	Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.
ROSALINE	Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
PRINCESS	O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight? Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.
ROSALINE	O, they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.
PRINCESS	Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
MARIA	Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
KATHARINE	Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you what he called me?
PRINCESS	Qualm, perhaps.
KATHARINE	Yes, in good faith.
PRINCESS	Go, sickness as thou art!
ROSALINE	Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.
PRINCESS	And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
KATHARINE	And Longaville was for my service born.
MARIA	Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
BOYET	Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be They will digest this harsh indignity.
PRINCESS	Will they return?
BOYET	They will, they will, God knows, And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore change favours; and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
PRINCESS	How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.
BOYET	Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud; Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
PRINCESS	Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?
ROSALINE	Good madam, if by me you'll be advised, Let's, mock them still, as well known as disguised: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder what they were and to what end Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us.
BOYET	Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand.
PRINCESS	Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.
	[Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA]
	[Re-enter FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits]
FERDINAND	Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess?
BOYET	Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty Command me any service to her thither?
FERDINAND	That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
BOYET	I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.
	[Exit]
BIRON	This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease, And utters it again when God doth please: He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve; A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy; This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms: nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and in ushering Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet: This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whale's bone; And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.
FERDINAND	A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado's page out of his part!
BIRON	See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now?
	[Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE]
FERDINAND	All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
PRINCESS	'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive.
FERDINAND	Construe my speeches better, if you may.
PRINCESS	Then wish me better; I will give you leave.
FERDINAND	We came to visit you, and purpose now To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.
PRINCESS	This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow: Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men.
FERDINAND	Rebuke me not for that which you provoke: The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
PRINCESS	You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke; For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied lily, I protest, A world of torments though I should endure, I would not yield to be your house's guest; So much I hate a breaking cause to be Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
FERDINAND	O, you have lived in desolation here, Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
PRINCESS	Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear; We have had pastimes here and pleasant game: A mess of Russians left us but of late.
FERDINAND	How, madam! Russians!
PRINCESS	Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
ROSALINE	Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord: My lady, to the manner of the days, In courtesy gives undeserving praise. We four indeed confronted were with four In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
BIRON	This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet, Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet, With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye, By light we lose light: your capacity Is of that nature that to your huge store Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
ROSALINE	This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,--
BIRON	I am a fool, and full of poverty.
ROSALINE	But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
BIRON	O, I am yours, and all that I possess!
ROSALINE	All the fool mine?
BIRON	I cannot give you less.
ROSALINE	Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
BIRON	Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this?
ROSALINE	There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case That hid the worse and show'd the better face.
FERDINAND	We are descried; they'll mock us now downright.
DUMAIN	Let us confess and turn it to a jest.
PRINCESS	Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad?
ROSALINE	Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale? Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
BIRON	Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. Can any face of brass hold longer out? Here stand I lady, dart thy skill at me; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance, Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd, Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue, Nor never come in vizard to my friend, Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song! Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: I do forswear them; and I here protest, By this white glove;--how white the hand, God knows!-- Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd In russet yeas and honest kersey noes: And, to begin, wench,--so God help me, la!-- My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
ROSALINE	Sans sans, I pray you.
BIRON	Yet I have a trick Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick; I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see: Write, 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three; They are infected; in their hearts it lies; They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes; These lords are visited; you are not free, For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.
PRINCESS	No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
BIRON	Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us.
ROSALINE	It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
BIRON	Peace! for I will not have to do with you.
ROSALINE	Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
BIRON	Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end.
FERDINAND	Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression Some fair excuse.
PRINCESS	The fairest is confession. Were not you here but even now disguised?
FERDINAND	Madam, I was.
PRINCESS	And were you well advised?
FERDINAND	I was, fair madam.
PRINCESS	When you then were here, What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
FERDINAND	That more than all the world I did respect her.
PRINCESS	When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
FERDINAND	Upon mine honour, no.
PRINCESS	Peace, peace! forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
FERDINAND	Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.
PRINCESS	I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
ROSALINE	Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear As precious eyesight, and did value me Above this world; adding thereto moreover That he would wed me, or else die my lover.
PRINCESS	God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth unhold his word.
FERDINAND	What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth, I never swore this lady such an oath.
ROSALINE	By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.
FERDINAND	My faith and this the princess I did give: I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
PRINCESS	Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear. What, will you have me, or your pearl again?
BIRON	Neither of either; I remit both twain. I see the trick on't: here was a consent, Knowing aforehand of our merriment, To dash it like a Christmas comedy: Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany, Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick, That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick To make my lady laugh when she's disposed, Told our intents before; which once disclosed, The ladies did change favours: and then we, Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she. Now, to our perjury to add more terror, We are again forsworn, in will and error. Much upon this it is: and might not you
	[To BOYET]
	Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue? Do not you know my lady's foot by the squier, And laugh upon the apple of her eye? And stand between her back, sir, and the fire, Holding a trencher, jesting merrily? You put our page out: go, you are allow'd; Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud. You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye Wounds like a leaden sword.
BOYET	Full merrily Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
BIRON	Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done.
	[Enter COSTARD]
	Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.
COSTARD	O Lord, sir, they would know Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.
BIRON	What, are there but three?
COSTARD	No, sir; but it is vara fine, For every one pursents three.
BIRON	And three times thrice is nine.
COSTARD	Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope it is not so. You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir we know what we know: I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,--
BIRON	Is not nine.
COSTARD	Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
BIRON	By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
COSTARD	O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir.
BIRON	How much is it?
COSTARD	O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir.
BIRON	Art thou one of the Worthies?
COSTARD	It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion the Great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.
BIRON	Go, bid them prepare.
COSTARD	We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care.
	[Exit]
FERDINAND	Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach.
BIRON	We are shame-proof, my lord: and tis some policy To have one show worse than the king's and his company.
FERDINAND	I say they shall not come.
PRINCESS	Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now: That sport best pleases that doth least know how: Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Dies in the zeal of that which it presents: Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, When great things labouring perish in their birth.
BIRON	A right description of our sport, my lord.
	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO]
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.
	[Converses apart with FERDINAND, and delivers him a paper]
PRINCESS	Doth this man serve God?
BIRON	Why ask you?
PRINCESS	He speaks not like a man of God's making.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain, too too vain: but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!
	[Exit]
FERDINAND	Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus: And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other five.
BIRON	There is five in the first show.
FERDINAND	You are deceived; 'tis not so.
BIRON	The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool and the boy:-- Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
FERDINAND	The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
	[Enter COSTARD, for Pompey]
COSTARD	I Pompey am,--
BOYET	You lie, you are not he.
COSTARD	I Pompey am,--
BOYET	With libbard's head on knee.
BIRON	Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee.
COSTARD	I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big--
DUMAIN	The Great.
COSTARD	It is, 'Great,' sir:-- Pompey surnamed the Great; That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance, And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France, If your ladyship would say, 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.
PRINCESS	Great thanks, great Pompey.
COSTARD	'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect: I made a little fault in 'Great.'
BIRON	My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.
	[Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander]
SIR NATHANIEL	When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander; By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might: My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander,--
BOYET	Your nose says, no, you are not for it stands too right.
BIRON	Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling knight.
PRINCESS	The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.
SIR NATHANIEL	When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander,--
BOYET	Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.
BIRON	Pompey the Great,--
COSTARD	Your servant, and Costard.
BIRON	Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
COSTARD	[To SIR NATHANIEL] O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax: he will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander.
	[SIR NATHANIEL retires]
	There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander,--alas, you see how 'tis,--a little o'erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
	[Enter HOLOFERNES, for Judas; and MOTH, for Hercules]
HOLOFERNES	Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canis; And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus. Quoniam he seemeth in minority, Ergo I come with this apology. Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
	[MOTH retires]
	Judas I am,--
DUMAIN	A Judas!
HOLOFERNES	Not Iscariot, sir. Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus.
DUMAIN	Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas.
BIRON	A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas?
HOLOFERNES	Judas I am,--
DUMAIN	The more shame for you, Judas.
HOLOFERNES	What mean you, sir?
BOYET	To make Judas hang himself.
HOLOFERNES	Begin, sir; you are my elder.
BIRON	Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.
HOLOFERNES	I will not be put out of countenance.
BIRON	Because thou hast no face.
HOLOFERNES	What is this?
BOYET	A cittern-head.
DUMAIN	The head of a bodkin.
BIRON	A Death's face in a ring.
LONGAVILLE	The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
BOYET	The pommel of Caesar's falchion.
DUMAIN	The carved-bone face on a flask.
BIRON	Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.
DUMAIN	Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
BIRON	Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance.
HOLOFERNES	You have put me out of countenance.
BIRON	False; we have given thee faces.
HOLOFERNES	But you have out-faced them all.
BIRON	An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
BOYET	Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go. And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?
DUMAIN	For the latter end of his name.
BIRON	For the ass to the Jude; give it him:--Jud-as, away!
HOLOFERNES	This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
BOYET	A light for Monsieur Judas! it grows dark, he may stumble.
	[HOLOFERNES retires]
PRINCESS	Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!
	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, for Hector]
BIRON	Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms.
DUMAIN	Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
FERDINAND	Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
BOYET	But is this Hector?
FERDINAND	I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.
LONGAVILLE	His leg is too big for Hector's.
DUMAIN	More calf, certain.
BOYET	No; he is best endued in the small.
BIRON	This cannot be Hector.
DUMAIN	He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift,--
DUMAIN	A gilt nutmeg.
BIRON	A lemon.
LONGAVILLE	Stuck with cloves.
DUMAIN	No, cloven.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Peace!-- The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion; A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea From morn till night, out of his pavilion. I am that flower,--
DUMAIN	That mint.
LONGAVILLE	That columbine.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
LONGAVILLE	I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.
DUMAIN	Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my device.
	[To the PRINCESS]
	Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.
PRINCESS	Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
BOYET	[Aside to DUMAIN] Loves her by the foot,--
DUMAIN	[Aside to BOYET] He may not by the yard.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,--
COSTARD	The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	What meanest thou?
COSTARD	Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already: tis yours.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.
COSTARD	Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him.
DUMAIN	Most rare Pompey!
BOYET	Renowned Pompey!
BIRON	Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the Huge!
DUMAIN	Hector trembles.
BIRON	Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them on! stir them on!
DUMAIN	Hector will challenge him.
BIRON	Ay, if a' have no man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
COSTARD	I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.
DUMAIN	Room for the incensed Worthies!
COSTARD	I'll do it in my shirt.
DUMAIN	Most resolute Pompey!
MOTH	Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? You will lose your reputation.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.
DUMAIN	You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BIRON	What reason have you for't?
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.
BOYET	True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that a' wears next his heart for a favour.
	[Enter MERCADE]
MERCADE	God save you, madam!
PRINCESS	Welcome, Mercade; But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
MERCADE	I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father--
PRINCESS	Dead, for my life!
MERCADE	Even so; my tale is told.
BIRON	Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.
	[Exeunt Worthies]
FERDINAND	How fares your majesty?
PRINCESS	Boyet, prepare; I will away tonight.
FERDINAND	Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.
PRINCESS	Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords, For all your fair endeavors; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide The liberal opposition of our spirits, If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath: your gentleness Was guilty of it. Farewell worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue: Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
FERDINAND	The extreme parts of time extremely forms All causes to the purpose of his speed, And often at his very loose decides That which long process could not arbitrate: And though the mourning brow of progeny Forbid the smiling courtesy of love The holy suit which fain it would convince, Yet, since love's argument was first on foot, Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost Is not by much so wholesome-profitable As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
PRINCESS	I understand you not: my griefs are double.
BIRON	Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief; And by these badges understand the king. For your fair sakes have we neglected time, Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty, ladies, Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours Even to the opposed end of our intents: And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-- As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance: Which parti-coated presence of loose love Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes, Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities, Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults, Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies, Our love being yours, the error that love makes Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false, By being once false for ever to be true To those that make us both,--fair ladies, you: And even that falsehood, in itself a sin, Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
PRINCESS	We have received your letters full of love; Your favours, the ambassadors of love; And, in our maiden council, rated them At courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy, As bombast and as lining to the time: But more devout than this in our respects Have we not been; and therefore met your loves In their own fashion, like a merriment.
DUMAIN	Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
LONGAVILLE	So did our looks.
ROSALINE	We did not quote them so.
FERDINAND	Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves.
PRINCESS	A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in. No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much, Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this: If for my love, as there is no such cause, You will do aught, this shall you do for me: Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Remote from all the pleasures of the world; There stay until the twelve celestial signs Have brought about the annual reckoning. If this austere insociable life Change not your offer made in heat of blood; If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love, But that it bear this trial and last love; Then, at the expiration of the year, Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts, And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine I will be thine; and till that instant shut My woeful self up in a mourning house, Raining the tears of lamentation For the remembrance of my father's death. If this thou do deny, let our hands part, Neither entitled in the other's heart.
FERDINAND	If this, or more than this, I would deny, To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye! Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.
BIRON	[And what to me, my love? and what to me?
ROSALINE	You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd, You are attaint with faults and perjury: Therefore if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, But seek the weary beds of people sick]
DUMAIN	But what to me, my love? but what to me? A wife?
KATHARINE	A beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
DUMAIN	O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?
KATHARINE	Not so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say: Come when the king doth to my lady come; Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
DUMAIN	I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
KATHARINE	Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.
LONGAVILLE	What says Maria?
MARIA	At the twelvemonth's end I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
LONGAVILLE	I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
MARIA	The liker you; few taller are so young.
BIRON	Studies my lady? mistress, look on me; Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there: Impose some service on me for thy love.
ROSALINE	Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron, Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks, Full of comparisons and wounding flouts, Which you on all estates will execute That lie within the mercy of your wit. To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, And therewithal to win me, if you please, Without the which I am not to be won, You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavor of your wit To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
BIRON	To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be; it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
ROSALINE	Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans, Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, And I will have you and that fault withal; But if they will not, throw away that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation.
BIRON	A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
PRINCESS	[To FERDINAND] Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
FERDINAND	No, madam; we will bring you on your way.
BIRON	Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy.
FERDINAND	Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then 'twill end.
BIRON	That's too long for a play.
	[Re-enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO]
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,--
PRINCESS	Was not that Hector?
DUMAIN	The worthy knight of Troy.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the end of our show.
FERDINAND	Call them forth quickly; we will do so.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Holla! approach.
	[Re-enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD, and others]
	This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
	[THE SONG]
	SPRING. When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!
	When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!
	WINTER. When icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
	When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way: we this way.
	[Exeunt]