NeXTSTEP 3.2 for Intel/NeXTSTEP 3.2 for Intel.iso/NextLibrary/Literature/Shakespeare/Plays/Loves_Labours_Lost/5.2

Text File | 1993-02-01 | 55.6 KB | 1,297 lines

{\rtf0\ansi{\fonttbl{\f0\froman Times Roman;}{\f1\fmodern Courier;}}
{\pard\f0\fs28{\fs48 Love's Labour's Lost
}\
\
{\b\fs36 5.2}
\
{\i         Enter the Princess and her ladies: Rosaline, Maria,\
        and Catherine\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Sweethearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,\
       If fairings come thus plentifully in.\
       A lady walled about with diamonds\'b1\'b1\
       Look you what I have from the loving King.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Madam, came nothing else along with that?        {\fs20   5}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Nothing but this?\'b1\'b1yes, as much love in rhyme\
       As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper\
       Writ o' both sides the leaf, margin and all,\
       That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       That was the way to make his godhead wax,        {\fs20  10}\
       For he hath been five thousand year a boy.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows, too.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       You'll ne'er be friends with him, a killed your sister.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy,\
       And so she died. Had she been light like you,        {\fs20  15}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light\
            word?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       A light condition in a beauty dark.            {\fs20  20}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       We need more light to find your meaning out.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff,\
       Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Look what you do, you do it still i'th' dark.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       So do not you, for you are a light wench.        {\fs20  25}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Great reason, for past care is still past cure.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Well bandied, both; a set of wit well played.\
       But Rosaline, you have a favour, too.            {\fs20  30}\
       Who sent it? And what is it?\
{\b \fs24 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 numb'ring, too,        {\fs20  35}\
       I were the fairest goddess on the ground.\
       I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.\
       O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}    Anything like?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Much in the letters, nothing in the praise.        {\fs20  40}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Beauteous as ink\'b1\'b1a good conclusion.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Fair as a text B in a copy-book.\
{\b \fs24 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!        {\fs20  45}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       A pox of that jest; I beshrew all shrews.\
       But Catherine, what was sent to you from fair\
            Dumaine?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Madam, this glove.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}        Did he not send you twain?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE}    Yes, madam; and moreover,\
       Some thousand verses of a faithful lover.        {\fs20  50}\
       A huge translation of hypocrisy\
       Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       This and these pearls to me sent Longueville.\
       The letter is too long by half a mile.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart        {\fs20  55}\
       The chain were longer and the letter short?\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       Ay, or I would these hands might never part.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.\
       That same Biron I'll torture ere I go.            {\fs20  60}\
       O that I knew he were but in by th' week!\'b1\'b1\
       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,        {\fs20  65}\
       And make him proud to make me proud that jests!\
       So pursuivant-like would I o'ersway his state\
       That he should be my fool, and I his fate.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       None are so surely caught when they are catched\
       As wit turned fool. Folly in wisdom hatched        {\fs20  70}\
       Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school,\
       And wit's own grace, to grace a learne\'c1d fool.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       The blood of youth burns not with such excess\
       As gravity's revolt to wantonness.\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       Folly in fools bears not so strong a note        {\fs20  75}\
       As fool'ry in the wise when wit doth dote,\
       Since all the power thereof it doth apply\
       To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.\
{\i         Enter Boyet\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       O, I am stabbed with laughter! Where's her grace?    {\fs20  80}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Thy news, Boyet?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}          Prepare, madam, prepare.\
       Arm, wenches, arm. Encounters mounted are\
       Against your peace. Love doth approach disguised,\
       Arme\'c1d in arguments. You'll be surprised.\
       Muster your wits, stand in your own defence,        {\fs20  85}\
       Or hide your heads like cowards and fly hence.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they\
       That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Under the cool shade of a sycamore\
       I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour        {\fs20  90}\
       When lo, to interrupt my purposed rest\
       Toward that shade I might behold addressed\
       The King and his companions. Warily\
       I stole into a neighbour thicket by\
       And overheard what you shall overhear:            {\fs20  95}\
       That by and by disguised they will be here.\
       Their herald is a pretty knavish page\
       That well by heart hath conned his embassage.\
       Action and accent did they teach him there.\
       `Thus must thou speak', and `thus thy body bear'.    {\fs20 100}\
       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.            {\fs20 105}\
       I should have feared her had she been a devil.'\
       With that all laughed and clapped him on the\
            shoulder,\
       Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.\
       One rubbed his elbow thus, and fleered, and swore\
       A better speech was never spoke before.            {\fs20 110}\
       Another with his finger and his thumb\
       Cried `{\i Via}, we will do't, come what will come!'\
       The third he capered and cried `All goes well!'\
       The fourth turned on the toe and down he fell.\
       With that they all did tumble on the ground        {\fs20 115}\
       With such a zealous laughter, so profound,\
       That in this spleen ridiculous appears,\
       To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       But what, but what\'b1\'b1come they to visit us?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       They do, they do, and are apparelled thus        {\fs20 120}\
       []\
       Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.\
       Their purpose is to parley, to court and dance,\
       And every one his love-suit will advance\
       Unto his several mistress, which they'll know        {\fs20 125}\
       By favours several which they did bestow.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       And will they so? The gallants shall be tasked,\
       For, ladies, we will every one be masked,\
       And not a man of them shall have the grace,\
       Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.            {\fs20 130}\
{\i      (To Rosaline)}    Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give\
            me thine.\
       So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.\
{\i         She changes favours with Rosaline\
         (To Catherine and Maria)\
}       And change you favours, too. So shall your loves\
       Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.\
{\i         Catherine and Maria change favours\
}{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.        {\fs20 135}\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       But in this changing what is your intent?\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.\
       They do it but in mockery-merriment,\
       And mock for mock is only my intent.\
       Their several counsels they unbosom shall        {\fs20 140}\
       To loves mistook, and so be mocked withal\
       Upon the next occasion that we meet\
       With visages displayed to talk and greet.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       But shall we dance if they desire us to't?\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       No, to the death we will not move a foot,        {\fs20 145}\
       Nor to their penned speech render we no grace,\
       But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,\
       And quite divorce his memory from his part.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt            {\fs20 150}\
       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 mocked depart away with shame.        {\fs20 155}\
{\i         A trumpet sounds\
}{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       The trumpet sounds, be masked, the masquers come.\
{\i         The ladies mask.\
        Enter blackamoors with music; the boy Mote with\
        a speech; the King and his lords, disguised as\
        Russians\
}{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (aside)\
}       Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.\
{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       A holy parcel of the fairest dames\'b1\'b1\
{\i         The ladies turn their backs to him\
}       That ever turned their\'b1\'b1backs to mortal views.    {\fs20 160}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    `Their eyes', villain, `their eyes'!\
{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       That ever turned their eyes to mortal views.\
       Out . . .\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    True, out indeed!\
{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe    {\fs20 165}\
       Not to behold\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    `Once to behold', rogue!\
{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       Once to behold with your sun-beame\'c1d eyes\'b1\'b1\
       With your sun-beame\'c1d eyes\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       They will not answer to that epithet.            {\fs20 170}\
       You were best call it `daughter-beame\'c1d' eyes.\
{\b \fs24 MOTE\
}       They do not mark me, and that brings me out.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue!\
{\i         Exit Mote\
}{\b \fs24 ROSALINE}{\i   (as the Princess)\
}       What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.\
       If they do speak our language, 'tis our will        {\fs20 175}\
       That some plain man recount their purposes.\
       Know what they would.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}                    What would you with the Princess?\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE}    What would they, say they?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.        {\fs20 180}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Why, that they have, and bid them so be gone.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       She says you have it, and you may be gone.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Say to her we have measured many miles\
       To tread a measure with her on this grass.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       They say that they have measured many a mile        {\fs20 185}\
       To tread a measure with you on this grass.\
{\b \fs24 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.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       If to come hither you have measured miles,        {\fs20 190}\
       And many miles, the Princess bids you tell\
       How many inches doth fill up one mile.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Tell her we measure them by weary steps.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       She hears herself.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE}        How many weary steps\
       Of many weary miles you have o'ergone            {\fs20 195}\
       Are numbered in the travel of one mile?\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       We number nothing that we spend for you.\
       Our duty is so rich, so infinite,\
       That we may do it still without account.\
       Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face        {\fs20 200}\
       That we, like savages, may worship it.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       My face is but a moon, and clouded, too.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       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.        {\fs20 205}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter.\
       Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.\
       Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Play, music, then.\
{\i         [Music plays]\
}                                           Nay, you must do it soon.        {\fs20 210}\
       Not yet?\'b1\'b1no dance! Thus change I like the moon.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.\
       []                            {\fs20 215}\
       The music plays, vouchsafe some motion to it.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Our ears vouchsafe it.\
{\b \fs24 KING}                        But your legs should do it.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Since you are strangers and come here by chance\
       We'll not be nice. Take hands. We will not dance.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Why take we hands, then?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE}                    Only to part friends.        {\fs20 220}\
       Curtsy, sweethearts, and so the measure ends.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       More measure of this measure, be not nice.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       We can afford no more at such a price.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Price you yourselves. What buys your company?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Your absence only.\
{\b \fs24 KING}                That can never be.            {\fs20 225}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Then cannot we be bought, and so adieu\'b1\'b1\
       Twice to your visor, and half once to you.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       In private, then.\
{\b \fs24 KING}              I am best pleased with that.\
{\i         The King and Rosaline talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (to the Princess, taking her for Rosaline)\
}       White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.    {\fs20 230}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Honey and milk and sugar\'b1\'b1there is three.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice\'b1\'b1\
       Metheglin, wort, and malmsey\'b1\'b1well run, dice!\
       There's half-a-dozen sweets.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}                            Seventh sweet, adieu.\
       Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.        {\fs20 235}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       One word in secret.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}          Let it not be sweet.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Thou griev'st my gall.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}                Gall\'b1\'b1bitter!\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}                                                            Therefore meet.\
{\i         Biron and the Princess talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}{\i   (to Maria, taking her for Catherine)\
}       Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       Name it.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Fair lady\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 MARIA}                                          Say you so? Fair lord\'b1\'b1\
       Take that for your `fair lady'.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}                                    Please it you,        {\fs20 240}\
       As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.\
{\i         Dumaine and Maria talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       What, was your visor made without a tongue?\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}{\i   (taking Catherine for Maria)\
}       I know the reason, lady, why you ask.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       O, for your reason! Quickly, sir, I long.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       You have a double tongue within your mask,        {\fs20 245}\
       And would afford my speechless visor half.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       `Veal', quoth the Dutchman. Is not veal a calf?\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       A calf, fair lady?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE}      No, a fair lord calf.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       Let's part the word.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE}          No, I'll not be your half.\
       Take all and wean it, it may prove an ox.        {\fs20 250}\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!\
       Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Then die a calf before your horns do grow.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       One word in private with you ere I die.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Bleat softly, then. The butcher hears you cry.        {\fs20 255}\
{\i         Longueville and Catherine talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 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    {\fs20 260}\
       Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter\
            things.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Not one word more, my maids. Break off, break off.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Farewell, mad wenches, you have simple wits.\
{\i         Exeunt the King, lords, and blackamoors\
        [The ladies unmask]\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.            {\fs20 265}\
       Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puffed\
            out.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!\
       Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight,    {\fs20 270}\
       Or ever but in visors show their faces?\
       This pert Biron was out of count'nance quite.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Ah, they were all in lamentable cases.\
       The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Biron did swear himself out of all suit.        {\fs20 275}\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       Dumaine was at my service, and his sword.\
       `{\i Non point},' quoth I. My servant straight was mute.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Lord Longueville said I came o'er his heart,\
       And trow you what he called me?\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}                                                                `Qualm', perhaps.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Yes, in good faith.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}          Go, sickness as thou art.        {\fs20 280}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.\
       But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       And Longueville was for my service born.\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       Dumaine is mine, as sure as bark on tree.        {\fs20 285}\
{\b \fs24 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.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Will they return?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}            They will, they will, God knows,    {\fs20 290}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       How `blow'? How `blow'? Speak to be understood.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud;        {\fs20 295}\
       Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown,\
       Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do\
       If they return in their own shapes to woo?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Good madam, if by me you'll be advised,            {\fs20 300}\
       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 penned,    {\fs20 305}\
       And their rough carriage so ridiculous,\
       Should be presented at our tent to us.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Ladies, withdraw. The gallants are at hand.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Whip, to our tents, as roes run over land!\
{\i         Exeunt the ladies\
        Enter the King, Biron, Dumaine, and Longueville, as\
        themselves\
}{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Fair sir, God save you. Where's the Princess?        {\fs20 310}\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty\
       Command me any service to her thither?\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       I will, and so will she, I know, my lord.\
{\i         Exit\
}{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons peas,        {\fs20 315}\
       And utters it again when God doth please.\
       He is wit's pedlar, 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.        {\fs20 320}\
       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 kissed his hand away in courtesy.\
       This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,        {\fs20 325}\
       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.        {\fs20 330}\
       This is the flower that smiles on everyone\
       To show his teeth as white as whale\'c8s bone,\
       And consciences that will not die in debt\
       Pay him the due of `honey-tongued' Boyet.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       A blister on his sweet tongue with my heart,        {\fs20 335}\
       That put Armado's page out of his part!\
{\i         Enter the ladies and Boyet\
}{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       See where it comes. Behaviour, what wert thou\
       Till this madman showed thee, and what art thou\
            now?\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       `Fair' in `all hail' is foul, as I conceive.        {\fs20 340}\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Construe my speeches better, if you may.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Then wish me better. I will give you leave.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       We came to visit you, and purpose now\
       To lead you to our court. Vouchsafe it, then.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow.        {\fs20 345}\
       Nor God nor I delights in perjured men.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.\
       The virtue of your eye must break my oath.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       You nickname virtue. `Vice' you should have spoke,\
       For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.        {\fs20 350}\
       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            {\fs20 355}\
       Of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       O, you have lived in desolation here,\
       Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Not so, my lord. It is not so, I swear.\
       We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game.        {\fs20 360}\
       A mess of Russians left us but of late.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       How, madam? Russians?\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}              Ay, in truth, my lord.\
       Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Madam, speak true.\'b1\'b1It is not so, my lord.\
       My lady, to the manner of the days,            {\fs20 365}\
       In courtesy gives undeserving praise.\
       We four indeed confronted were with four\
       In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour,\
       And talked apace, and in that hour, my lord,\
       They did not bless us with one happy word.        {\fs20 370}\
       I dare not call them fools, but this I think:\
       When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet,\
       Your wits makes wise things foolish. When we greet,\
       With eyes' best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,        {\fs20 375}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       I am a fool, and full of poverty.            {\fs20 380}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       But that you take what doth to you belong\
       It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       O, I am yours, and all that I possess.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       All the fool mine!\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}              I cannot give you less.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Which of the visors was it that you wore?        {\fs20 385}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Where? When? What visor? Why demand you this?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       There, then, that visor, that superfluous case,\
       That hid the worse and showed the better face.\
{\b \fs24 KING}{\i   (aside to the lords)\
}       We were descried. They'll mock us now, downright.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}{\i   (aside to the King)\
}       Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.            {\fs20 390}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Amazed, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Help, hold his brows, he'll swoon. Why look you\
            pale?\
       Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.\
       Can any face of brass hold longer out?            {\fs20 395}\
       Here stand I, lady. Dart thy skill at me\'b1\'b1\
       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 nevermore to dance,        {\fs20 400}\
       Nor nevermore in Russian habit wait.\
       O, never will I trust to speeches penned,\
       Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue,\
       Nor never come in visor to my friend,\
       Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song.        {\fs20 405}\
       Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,\
       Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,\
       Figures pedantical\'b1\'b1these summer flies\
       Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.\
       I do forswear them, and I here protest,            {\fs20 410}\
       By this white glove\'b1\'b1how white the hand, God\
            knows!\'b1\'b1\
       Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed\
       In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.\
       And to begin, wench, so God help me, law!\
       My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.        {\fs20 415}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Sans `sans', I pray you.\
{\b \fs24 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.        {\fs20 420}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Our states are forfeit. Seek not to undo us.        {\fs20 425}\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       It is not so, for how can this be true,\
       That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Peace, for I will not have to do with you.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (to the lords)\
}       Speak for yourselves. My wit is at an end.        {\fs20 430}\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression\
       Some fair excuse.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}      The fairest is confession.\
       Were not you here but even now disguised?\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Madam, I was.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}    And were you well advised?\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       I was, fair madam.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}        When you then were here,        {\fs20 435}\
       What did you whisper in your lady's ear?\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       That more than all the world I did respect her.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Upon mine honour, no.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}              Peace, peace, forbear.\
       Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.    {\fs20 440}\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Despise me when I break this oath of mine.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       I will, and therefore keep it. Rosaline,\
       What did the Russian whisper in your ear?\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear\
       As precious eyesight, and did value me            {\fs20 445}\
       Above this world, adding thereto moreover\
       That he would wed me, or else die my lover.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       God give thee joy of him! The noble lord\
       Most honourably doth uphold his word.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth,        {\fs20 450}\
       I never swore this lady such an oath.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       By heaven, you did, and to confirm it plain,\
       You gave me this. But take it, sir, again.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       My faith and this the Princess I did give.\
       I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.            {\fs20 455}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Pardon me, sir, {\i this} jewel did she wear,\
       And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.\
{\i      (To Biron)}    What, will you have me, or your pearl\
            again?\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Neither of either. I remit both twain.\
       I see the trick on't. Here was a consent,        {\fs20 460}\
       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    {\fs20 465}\
       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, wooed but the sign of she.\
       Now, to our perjury to add more terror,            {\fs20 470}\
       We are again forsworn, in will and error.\
       Much upon this 'tis,{\i   (to Boyet)}    and might not you\
       Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?\
       Do not you know my lady's foot by th' square,\
       And laugh upon the apple of her eye,            {\fs20 475}\
       And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,\
       Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?\
       You put our page out. Go, you are allowed.\
       Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.\
       You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye        {\fs20 480}\
       Wounds like a leaden sword.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}                                Full merrily\
       Hath this brave mane\'c1ge, this career been run.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Lo, he is tilting straight. Peace, I have done.\
{\i         Enter Costard the clown\
}       Welcome, pure wit. Thou partest a fair fray.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD\
}       O Lord, sir, they would know                {\fs20 485}\
       Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       What, are there but three?\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}                          No, sir, but it is vara fine,\
       For everyone pursents three.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}                                  And three times thrice is nine.\
{\b \fs24 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.                {\fs20 490}\
       I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}                                                                  Is not nine?\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it\
       doth amount.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your {\fs20 495}\
       living by reck'ning, sir.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    How much is it?\
{\b \fs24 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    {\fs20 500}\
       in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Art thou one of the Worthies?\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey\
       the Great. For mine own part, I know not the degree\
       of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.        {\fs20 505}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Go, bid them prepare.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD\
}       We will turn it finely off, sir. We will take some care.\
{\i         Exit\
}{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Biron, they will shame us. Let them not approach.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       We are shame-proof, my lord, and 'tis some policy\
       To have one show worse than the King's and his\
            company.                    {\fs20 510}\
{\b \fs24 KING}    I say they shall not come.\
{\b \fs24 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,        {\fs20 515}\
       There form confounded makes most form in mirth,\
       When great things labouring perish in their birth.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       A right description of our sport, my lord.\
{\i         Enter Armado the braggart\
}{\b \fs24 ARMADO}{\i   (to the King)}    Anointed, I implore so much expense\
       of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace of words. {\fs20 520}\
{\i         [Armado and the King speak apart]\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}    Doth this man serve God?\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Why ask you?\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       A speaks not like a man of God his making.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    That is all one, my fair sweet honey monarch,\
       for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical, {\fs20 525}\
       too-too vain, too-too vain. But we will put it, as they\
       say, to {\i fortuna de la guerra}. I wish you the peace of\
       mind, most royal couplement.\
{\i         Exit\
}{\b \fs24 KING}    Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He\
       presents Hector of Troy, the swain Pompey the Great,    {\fs20 530}\
       the parish curate Alexander, Armado's page Hercules,\
       the pedant Judas Maccabeus,\
       And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive,\
       These four will change habits and present the other\
            five.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       There is five in the first show.            {\fs20 535}\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       You are deceived, 'tis not so.\
{\b \fs24 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.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.    {\fs20 540}\
{\i         Enter Costard the clown as Pompey\
}{\b \fs24 COSTARD}{\i   (as Pompey)\
}       I Pompey am\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}                You lie, you are not he.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}{\i   (as Pompey)\
}       I Pompey am\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}                With leopard's head on knee.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with\
            thee.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}{\i   (as Pompey)\
}       I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    `The Great'.                {\fs20 545}\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    It is `Great', sir\'b1\'b1\
{\i      (As Pompey)}    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.\'b1\'b1                    {\fs20 550}\
       If your ladyship would say `Thanks, Pompey', I had\
       done.\
{\b \fs24 [PRINCESS]}    Great thanks, great Pompey.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    'Tis not so much worth, but I hope I was perfect.\
       I made a little fault in `great'.            {\fs20 555}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    My hat to a halfpenny Pompey proves the best\
       Worthy.\
{\i         Costard stands aside.\
        Enter Nathaniel the curate as Alexander\
}{\b \fs24 NATHANIEL}{\i   (as Alexander)\
}       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.    {\fs20 560}\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Your nose says no, you are not, for it stands too\
            right.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (to Boyet)\
}       Your nose smells `no' in this, most tender-smelling\
            knight.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       The conqueror is dismayed. Proceed, good Alexander.\
{\b \fs24 NATHANIEL}{\i   (as Alexander)\
}       When in the world I lived I was the world's\
            commander.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Most true, 'tis right, you were so, Alisander.        {\fs20 565}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (to Costard)}    Pompey the Great.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    Your servant, and Costard.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}{\i   (to Nathaniel)}    O, sir, you have overthrown\
       Alisander the Conqueror. You will be scraped out of    {\fs20 570}\
       the painted cloth for this. Your lion that holds his pole-\
       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.\
{\i         [Exit Nathaniel the curate]\
}       There, an't shall please you, a foolish mild man, an    {\fs20 575}\
       honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a\
       marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good\
       bowler, but for Alisander\'b1\'b1alas, you see how 'tis\'b1\'b1a\
       little o'erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming will\
       speak their mind in some other sort.            {\fs20 580}\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}    Stand aside, good Pompey.\
{\i         Enter Holofernes the pedant as Judas, and the boy\
        Mote as Hercules\
}{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES\
}       Great Hercules is presented by this imp,\
       Whose club killed Cerberus, that three-headed\
{\i canus},\
       And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,\
       Thus did he strangle serpents in his {\i manus}.    {\fs20 585}\
       {\i Quoniam} he seemeth in minority,\
       {\i Ergo} I come with this apology.\
{\i      (To Mote)}    Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.\
{\i         Exit Mote\
}{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}{\i   (as Judas)\
}       Judas I am\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    A Judas?                    {\fs20 590}\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    Not Iscariot, sir.\
{\i      (As Judas)}    Judas I am, yclept Maccabeus.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Judas Maccabeus clipped is plain Judas.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas?\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}{\i   (as Judas)\
}       Judas I am\'b1\'b1                    {\fs20 595}\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    The more shame for you, Judas.\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    What mean you, sir?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    To make Judas hang himself.\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    Begin, sir. You are my elder.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Well followed\'b1\'b1Judas was hanged on an elder. {\fs20 600}\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    I will not be put out of countenance.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Because thou hast no face.\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    What is this?\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    A cittern-head.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    The head of a bodkin.            {\fs20 605}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    A death's face in a ring.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}    The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    The pommel of Caesar's falchion.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    The carved-bone face on a flask.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.    {\fs20 610}\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Ay, and in a brooch of lead.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. And\
       now forward, for we have put thee in countenance.\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    You have put me out of countenance.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    False, we have given thee faces.        {\fs20 615}\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES}    But you have outfaced them all.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       An thou wert a lion, we would do so.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.\
       And so adieu, sweet Jude. Nay, why dost thou stay?\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    For the latter end of his name.        {\fs20 620}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       For the ass to the Jude. Give it him. Jud-as, away.\
{\b \fs24 HOLOFERNES\
}       This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET\
}       A light for Monsieur Judas. It grows dark, he may\
            stumble.\
{\i         Exit Holofernes\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}    Alas, poor Maccabeus, how hath he been baited!\
{\i         Enter Armado the braggart as Hector\
}{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector in {\fs20 625}\
       arms.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Though my mocks come home by me, I will\
       now be merry.\
{\b \fs24 KING}    Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    But is this Hector?            {\fs20 630}\
{\b \fs24 KING}    I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}    His leg is too big for Hector's.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    More calf, certain.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    No, he is best endowed in the small.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    This cannot be Hector.            {\fs20 635}\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    He's a god, or a painter, for he makes faces.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}{\i   (as Hector)\
}       The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,\
       Gave Hector a gift\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    A gilt nutmeg.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    A lemon.                    {\fs20 640}\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}    Stuck with cloves.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    No, cloven.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    Peace!\
{\i      (As Hector)}    The armipotent Mars, of lances the\
            almighty,\
       Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion,            {\fs20 645}\
       A man so breathe\'c1d that certain he would fight, yea,\
       From morn till night, out of his pavilion.\
       I am that flower\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}                      That mint.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}                                  That colombine.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    Sweet Lord Longueville, rein thy tongue.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE}    I must rather give it the rein, for it runs {\fs20 650}\
       against Hector.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.\
{\b \fs24 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    {\fs20 655}\
       device.{\i   (To the Princess)}    Sweet royalty, bestow on me\
       the sense of hearing.\
{\i         Biron steps forth\
}{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Speak, brave Hector, we are much delighted.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    Loves her by the foot.            {\fs20 660}\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    He may not by the yard.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}{\i   (as Hector)\
}       This Hector far surmounted Hannibal.\
{\b \fs24 [}    ]\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    The party is gone.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    Fellow Hector, she is gone, she is two months {\fs20 665}\
       on her way.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    What meanest thou?\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan the\
       poor wench is cast away. She's quick. The child brags\
       in her belly already. 'Tis yours.            {\fs20 670}\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?\
       Thou shalt die.\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta\
       that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is\
       dead by him.                        {\fs20 675}\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Most rare Pompey!\
{\b \fs24 BOYET}    Renowned Pompey!\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Greater than great\'b1\'b1great, great, great Pompey,\
       Pompey the Huge.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Hector trembles.                {\fs20 680}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates\'b1\'b1stir them\
       on, stir them on!\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Hector will challenge him.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    Ay, if a have no more man's blood in his belly\
       than will sup a flea.                    {\fs20 685}\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    By the North Pole, I do challenge thee.\
{\b \fs24 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.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Room for the incensed Worthies.        {\fs20 690}\
{\b \fs24 COSTARD}    I'll do it in my shirt.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    Most resolute Pompey.\
{\b \fs24 MOTE}{\i   (aside to Armado)}    Master, let me take you a button-\
       hole lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the\
       combat? What mean you? You will lose your        {\fs20 695}\
       reputation.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me. I will not\
       combat in my shirt.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the\
       challenge.                        {\fs20 700}\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    Sweet bloods, I both may and will.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}    What reason have you for't?\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. I go\
       woolward for penance.\
{\b \fs24 [MOTE]}    True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want {\fs20 705}\
       of linen, since when I'll be sworn he wore none but a\
       dish-clout of Jaquenetta's, and that a wears next his\
       heart, for a favour.\
{\i         Enter a messenger, Monsieur Mercade\'c2\
}{\b \fs24 MERCADE\'c2\
}       God save you, madam.\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS}            Welcome, Mercade\'c2,\
       But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.        {\fs20 710}\
{\b \fs24 MERCADE\'c2\
}       I am sorry, madam, for the news I bring\
       Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father\'b1\'b1\
{\b \fs24 PRINCESS\
}       Dead, for my life.\
{\b \fs24 MERCADE\'c2}    Even so. My tale is told.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Worthies, away. The scene begins to cloud.\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO}    For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have {\fs20 715}\
       seen the day of wrong through the little hole of\
       discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.\
{\i         Exeunt the Worthies\
}{\b \fs24 KING}    How fares your majesty?\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN\
}       Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Madam, not so, I do beseech you stay.            {\fs20 720}\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN\
}       Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,\
       For all your fair endeavours, 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.            {\fs20 725}\
       If overboldly 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,        {\fs20 730}\
       For my great suit so easily obtained.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       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.        {\fs20 735}\
       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 jostle it            {\fs20 740}\
       From what it purposed, since to wail friends lost\
       Is not by much so wholesome-profitable\
       As to rejoice at friends but newly found.\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN\
}       I understand you not. My griefs are double.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief,    {\fs20 745}\
       And by these badges understand the King.\
       For your fair sakes have we neglected time,\
       Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies,\
       Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours\
       Even to the oppose\'c1d end of our intents,        {\fs20 750}\
       And what in us hath seemed ridiculous\'b1\'b1\
       As love is full of unbefitting strains,\
       All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,\
       Formed by the eye and therefore like the eye,\
       Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,        {\fs20 755}\
       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,        {\fs20 760}\
       Those heavenly eyes that look into these faults\
       Suggested us to make them. 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            {\fs20 765}\
       To those that make us both\'b1\'b1fair ladies, you.\
       And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,\
       Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN\
}       We have received your letters full of love,\
       Your favours the ambassadors of love,            {\fs20 770}\
       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        {\fs20 775}\
       In their own fashion, like a merriment.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE\
}       Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest.\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       So did our looks.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE}      We did not quote them so.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Now, at the latest minute of the hour,\
       Grant us your loves.\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN}                  A time, methinks, too short        {\fs20 780}\
       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\'b1\'b1as there is no such cause\'b1\'b1\
       You will do aught, this shall you do for me:        {\fs20 785}\
       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.        {\fs20 790}\
       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,        {\fs20 795}\
       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 instance shut\
       My woeful self up in a mourning house,            {\fs20 800}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       If this, or more than this, I would deny,        {\fs20 805}\
       To flatter up these powers of mine with rest\
       The sudden hand of death close up mine eye.\
       Hence, hermit, then. My heart is in thy breast.\
{\i         They talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}{\i   (to Catherine)\
}       But what to me, my love? But what to me?\
       A wife?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE}    A beard, fair health, and honesty.    {\fs20 810}\
       With three-fold love I wish you all these three.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE\
}       O, shall I say `I thank you, gentle wife'?\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       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;        {\fs20 815}\
       Then if I have much love, I'll give you some.\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE\
}       I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.\
{\b \fs24 CATHERINE\
}       Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.\
{\i         They talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       What says Maria?\
{\b \fs24 MARIA}          At the twelvemonth's end\
       I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.    {\fs20 820}\
{\b \fs24 LONGUEVILLE\
}       I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.\
{\b \fs24 MARIA\
}       The liker you\'b1\'b1few taller are so young.\
{\i         They talk apart\
}{\b \fs24 BIRON}{\i   (to Rosaline)\
}       Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me.\
       Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,\
       What humble suit attends thy answer there.        {\fs20 825}\
       Impose some service on me for thy love.\
{\b \fs24 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,        {\fs20 830}\
       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,            {\fs20 835}\
       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 endeavour of your wit\
       To enforce the paine\'c1d impotent to smile.        {\fs20 840}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       To move wild laughter in the throat of death?\'b1\'b1\
       It cannot be, it is impossible.\
       Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.\
{\b \fs24 ROSALINE\
}       Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,\
       Whose influence is begot of that loose grace        {\fs20 845}\
       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,\
       Deafed with the clamours of their own dear groans,    {\fs20 850}\
       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.            {\fs20 855}\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall,\
       I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN}{\i   (to the King)\
}       Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take my leave.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       No, madam, we will bring you on your way.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON\
}       Our wooing doth not end like an old play.        {\fs20 860}\
       Jack hath not Jill. These ladies' courtesy\
       Might well have made our sport a comedy.\
{\b \fs24 KING\
}       Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth an' a day,\
       And then 'twill end.\
{\b \fs24 BIRON}                  That's too long for a play.\
{\i         Enter Armado the braggart\
}{\b \fs24 ARMADO}{\i   (to the King)}    Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me. {\fs20 865}\
{\b \fs24 QUEEN}    Was not that Hector?\
{\b \fs24 DUMAINE}    The worthy knight of Troy.\
{\b \fs24 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 year.    {\fs20 870}\
       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.\
{\b \fs24 KING}    Call them forth quickly, we will do so.    {\fs20 875}\
{\b \fs24 ARMADO\
}       Holla, approach!\
{\i         Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Costard, Mote, Dull,\
        Jaquenetta, and others\
}                                       This side is Hiems, winter,\
       This Ver, the spring, the one maintained by the owl,\
       The other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.\
{\b \fs24 SPRING}{\i   (sings)\
}                 When daisies pied and violets blue,\
                 And lady-smocks, all silver-white,        {\fs20 880}\
                    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!                {\fs20 885}\
                Cuckoo, cuckoo\'b1\'b1O 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,        {\fs20 890}\
               And maidens bleach their summer smocks,\
                    The cuckoo then on every tree\
                Mocks married men, for thus sings he:\
                               Cuckoo!\
                Cuckoo, cuckoo\'b1\'b1O word of fear,        {\fs20 895}\
                    Unpleasing to a married ear.\
{\b \fs24 WINTER}{\i   (sings)\
}                   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;        {\fs20 900}\
               When blood is nipped, and ways be foul,\
                 Then nightly sings the staring owl:\
               Tu-whit, tu-whoo!\'b1\'b1a merry note,\
                While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.\
                 When all aloud the wind doth blow,        {\fs20 905}\
                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:        {\fs20 910}\
               Tu-whit, tu-whoo!\'b1\'b1a merry note,\
                While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.\
{\b \fs24 [ARMADO]}    The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs\
       of Apollo. You that way, we this way.\
{\i         Exeunt, severally\
\