Imatges de pÓgina
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ferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention?
Imitari _is nothing; -80 doth the hound his
master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his 182
rider. But, damosella virgin, was this directed
to you?

Jaq. Ay, sir; from one Monsieur Berowne,
one of the strange queen's lords.

136 Hol. I will overglance the superscript. 'To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline.' I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party 140 writing to the person written unto: 'Your ladyship's, in all desired employment, Berowne.'Sir Nathaniel, this Berowne is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter 144 to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may 148 concern much. Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy-duty: adieu.

Jaq. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life!

152 Cost. Have with thee, my girl.

Exit [with Jaquenetta). Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain Father saith

156 Hol. Sir, tell not me of the Father; I do fear colourable colours. But to return to the verses:

did they please you, Sir Nathaniel? 131 Imitari: to imitate

136 queen's lords; cf. n. 137 superscript: superscription, address 139 intellect: i.e, signature 145 sequent: follower

147 Trip and go; cf. M. 149 Stay . .: compliment: do not pause for ceremony 158 colourable colours: false pretexts


Nath. Marvellous well for the

pen. Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where, if before repast it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents 164 of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your society.

Nath. And thank you too; for society- saith the text is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.- [To Dull.] Sir, I do invite you too: 172 you shall not say me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation.



Scene Three

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[The Same]
Enter Berowne, with a paper in his hand, alone.

Ber. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch, pitch that defiles: defile! a foul word!- Well, sit thee down, sorrowl for so 4 they say the foot said, and so say I, and I the foot: well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep: it kills me, I a sheep: well proved-again- o' my side! I will not 8

love; if I do, hang me; i' faith, I will not. O 160 pen: technical skill

166 ben venuto: welcome 170 the text; cf. n.

173 pauca verba: few words 2 pitched a toil: set a net

3 pitch: 1.e. Rosaline's black eyes 7 Ajax; cf. No

but her eye!—by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my 12 throat. By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rime, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rime, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets al- 16 ready: the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one 20 with a paper: God give him grace to groan!

He stands aside (or climbs into a tree).

The King entreth.
King. Ay me!

Ber. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid: thou hast thumped him with 24 thy bird-bolt under the left pap.

In faith, secrets ! King. “So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,

, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote

The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows.
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright

Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light:

Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep;
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee:

So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through my grief will show: But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep 20 in:1.e. in love

25 bird-bolt: blunt arrow for killing birds papers: papers on the breast describing a perjurer's offenses 53 triumviry: triumvirate of a Catholic priest



36 48

My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. 40
O queen of queens ! how far dost thou excel,
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.'
How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper.-
Sweet leaves, shade folly! Who is he comes here? 44

Enter Longaville. The King steps aside.
What, Longaville! and reading ! listen, ear.

Ber. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
Long. Ay me! I am forsworn.
Ber. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing

King. In love, I hope: sweet fellowship in shame!
Ber. One drunkard loves another of the name.
Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?
Ber. I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I

know: Thou mak’st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity. Long. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to

move, O sweet Maria, empress of my love! These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

Ber. O! rimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose: Disfigure not his slop. Long

This same shall go.

He reads the Sonnet. 'Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,

'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? 48 perjure: perjurer




corner-cap: biretto, three-cornered cop, 54 Tyburn: triangular gallows at Tyburn, London 58 guards: trimmings

59 slop: loose trousers


Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore; but I will prove,

Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;

Thy grace, being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:

68 Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, Exhal’st this vapour-vow; in thee it is:

If broken, then, it is no fault of mine: If by me broke, what fool is not so wise To lose an oath to win a paradise!' Ber. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a

deity, A green goose a goddess; pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the

way. Long. By whom shall I send this? - Company! stay.

[Steps aside.) Enter Dumaine.



Ber. All hid, all hid; an old infant play.
Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. 80
More sacks to the mill! O heavens! I have my wish.
Dumaine transform'd: four woodcocks in a dish!

Dum. O most divine Kate!
Ber. O most profane coxcomb!

Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye!
Ber. By earth, she is not, corporal; there you lie.
Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber quoted.

Ber. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. 74 liver-vein: i.e. style of a man in love (the liver being the sub

posed seat of the affections) 78 All hid: i.e. as in the game of hide and seek 82 woodcocks: proverbially silly birds 87 quoted: set down, regarded


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