Imatges de pÓgina
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PRIN. Only for praise and praise we may afford To any lady that fubdues a lord.

Enter CoSTARD.

PRIN. Here comes a member of the commonwealth. COST. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

PRIN. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the reft that have no heads.

COST. Which is the greateft lady, the highest?
PRIN. The thickeft, and the tallest.

[truth.
COST. The thickeft, and the tallest! it is fo; truth is
An your waist, mistress, were as flender as my wit,
One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.
PRIN. What's your will, fir? what's your will?
COST. I have a letter from monfieur Biron to one lady

Rofaline.

[mine :

PRIN. O, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend of Stand afide, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve; Break up this capon.

BOYET. I am bound to ferve.

This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

PRIN. We will read it, I fwear:

Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.

BOYET. [reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itfelf, have commiferation on thy heroical vaffal! The magnanimous and moft illuftrate king Cophetua fet eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and be it was that might rightly fay, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (0 bafe and obfcure vulgar!) vi

delicet, he came, faw, and overcame: he came, one; faw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king? why did he come? to fee; Why did he fee? to overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar: What faw he? the beggar; Who overcame be? the beggar: The conclufion is victory; On whose fide? the king's: the captive is enrich'd; On whofe fide? the beggar's ; The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whofe fide? the king's?—no; on both in one, or one in both. I am the king ; for fo ftands the comparison: thou the beggar; for fo witnes eth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What halt thou exchange for rags? robes; For tittles? titles; For thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.

Thine, in the dearest defign of industry,

DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.

Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar

'Gainft thee, thou lamb, that ftandeft as his prey; Submiffive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play:

But if thou ftrive, poor foul, what art thou then?

Food for his rage, repafture for his den.

PRIN. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this

letter?

What vane? what weather-cock? Did you ever hear better?

BOYET. I am much deceived, but I remember the style.
PRIN. Elfe your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile.
BOYET. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in
court;

A phantafm, a Monarcho; and one that makes fport
To the prince, and his book-mates.

PRIN. Thou, fellow, a word:

Who gave thee this letter?

Cost. I told you; my lord.

PRIN. To whom should'ft thou give it?
Cost. From my lord to my lady.

PRIN. From which lord, to which lady?

COST. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rofaline.

PRIN. Thou haft mistaken his letter. Come, lords,

away.

Here, fweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. [Exit PRINCESS and Train.

BOYET. Who is the fuitor? who is the fuitor?

Ros. Shall I teach you to know?

BOYET. Ay, my continent of beauty.

Ros. Why, the that bears the bow." off!

Finely put

BorET. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on!

Ros. Well then, I am the fhooter.

BOYET. And who is your deer?

Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourfelf; come near. Finely put on, indeed!—

MAR. You ftill wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.

BOYET. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her now? Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old faying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

BorET. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Ros. Thou can't not hit it, hit it, hit it,
Thou can't not bit it, my good man.
BOYET. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,

An I cannot, another can.

[finging

[Exeunt Ros. and KAT.

Cosr. By my troth, moft pleasant! how both did fit it! MAR. A mark marvellous well fhot; for they both did

hit it.

Borer. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, fays my lady!

Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be. MAR. Wide o' the bow hand! I'faith, your hand is

out.

COST. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.

BOYET. An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand is in.

COST. Then will she get the upfhot by cleaving the pin. MAR. Come, come, you talk greafily, your lips grow

foul.

Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, fir; challenge her to bowl.

BOYET. I fear too much rubbing; Good night, my [Exeunt BorET and MARIA.

good owl.

Cost. By my foul, a swain! a moft fimple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweet jefts! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it

fo fit.

Armatho o' the one fide,-O, a most dainty man!

were,

To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan ! To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will fwear!

And his page o' t'other fide, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a moft pathetical nit!

Sola, fola!

[Shouting within.

[Exit COSTARD, running.

SCENE II. The fame.

Enter HOLOFERNES, Sir NATHANIEL, and DULL. NATH. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the teftimony of a good confcience.

HOL. The deer was, as you know, in fanguis,-blood; ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cœlo,-the fky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,-the foil, the land, the earth.

NATH. Truly, mafter Holofernes, the epithets are fweetly varied, like a scholar at the leaft: But, fir, I affure ye, it was a buck of the firft head.

HOL. Sir Nathaniel, baud credo.

DULL. 'Twas not a baud credo, 'twas a pricket.

HOL. Moft barbarous intimation! yet a kind of infinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, oftentare, to fhow, as it' were, his inclination,-after his undreffed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or, rathereft, unconfirmed fashion,-to infert again my baud credo for a deer.

DULL. I faid, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket. HOL. Twice fod fimplicity, bis coctus!-O thou monfter ignorance, how deformed doft thou look!

NATH. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only fenfible in the duller parts;

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