Biran. It must be done this afternoon. se, it is but this; The princess comes to hunt here in the park, And in her train there is a gentle lady; Hark, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, Of trotting paritors, O my little heart! — When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her And I to be a corporal of his field, And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop! Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan; Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. ACT IV. SCENE I.- -Another part of the same. Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, Maria, Katharine, BOYET, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester. Pria. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse so hard Against the steep uprising of the hill? Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he. Pria. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind. Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch; O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe! A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.- [Exit. 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 rest that have no heads. Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest? Cost. The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth. An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit. Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest 门 A is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous; truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (0 base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; Why did he come? to see; Why did he see? to overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar; What saw he? the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd ; On whose side? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial: On whose side? The king's? -no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt 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 design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey; Submissive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play: But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture 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. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport Who gave thee this letter? Thou, fellow, a word: Cost. To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline. Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. Ros. Finely put off! Why, she that bears the bow. Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come near. Finely put on, indeed! Mar. You still 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 saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? Boyet. So I may answer thea with one as old, that was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, [Singing. 'Thou canst not hit it, my good man. Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot, Cost. [Exeunt Ros. and KATH. By my troth, most pleasant! how both did fit it! Cost. hand is in. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her to bowl. Boyet, I fear too much rubbing; Good night my good owl. [Exeunt BOYET and MARIA. Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of and a STE insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, stentare, to show, as it were, his inclination, after bis undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, — to insert again my haud credo for a deer. Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas * pricket. Hal. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus! O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost 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 sensible in the duller parts; And such barren plants are set before us, that we (Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts or a fool, So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, good * Dull. Dall. What is Dictynna? Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. was no more; And raught not to five weeks, when he came to fivescore. The allusion holds in the exchange. Dull 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange. H. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange. Dul. And I say the pollusion holds in the exdange; for the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess kill'd. Hal. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the princess kill'd, a pricket. Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility. Hal. I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility. The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket; Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor❜d by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth. Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us. Enter JAQUENetta and Costard. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person. Hol. Master person, — quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one? Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead. Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well. Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho: I beseech you, read it. Hol. Fauste, precor gelidâ quando pecus omne sub umbrâ Ruminat, -and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! Chi non te vede, ei non te pregia. Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not. - Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. — Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or, rather, as Horace says in his- What, my soul, verses? Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned. Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, domine. Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder; (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;) Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet fire. Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this Here one o' my sonnets already; 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 with a paper; God give him grace to groan. [Gels up into a tree. Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss | rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, Ovifacility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. dius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But damosella virgin, was this directed to you? Jap. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords. 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 writing to the person written unto : Your Ladyship's in all desired employment, BIRON. Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter 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 concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu. Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.— Sir, God save your life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl. Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith 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 ? 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 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. Sir, [to DULL.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. SCENE III. - Another part of the same. Enter BIRON, with a paper. Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. 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 on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, 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 throat. By heaven, I do love and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my Enter the KING, with a paper. King. Ah me! Biron. [Aside.] Shot by heaven! - Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy birdbolt under the left pap: - - I'faith secrets. — King. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, Through the transparent bosom of the deep, So ridest thou triúmphing in my woe: Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper. Fres are but breath, and breath a vapour is : Biron. [Aside.] 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. Enter DUMAIN, with a paper. Leng. By whom shall I send this? - Company! stay. [Stepping aside. Biron [Aside.] 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. O most prophane coxcomb! [Aside. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth she is but corporal: there you lie. [Aside. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. Dum. As upright as the cedar. Her shoulder is with child. Bren. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. [Aside. Stoop, I say; [Aside. Dum. As fair as day. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must [Aside. And I had mine! [Aside. King. And I mine too, good lord! Aside. Bir. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word? [Aside. shine. Dum. O that I had my wish! Long. Dam. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Bron. A fever in your blood, why, then incision Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision! [Aside. Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. Hiren. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. [Aside. Dum. On a day, (alack the day!) Love, whose month is ever May, Thou for whom even Jove would swear, And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for thy love. This will I send; and something else more plain, That shall express my true love's fasting pain. O, would the King, Birón, and Longaville, Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note; For none offend, where all alike do dote. Long. Dumain, [advancing.] thy love is far from charity, That in love's grief desir'st society: You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, King. Come, sir, [advancing.] you blush; as his your case is such; You chide at him, offending twice as much : [To LONG. And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath. I would not have him know so much by me. Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumain? Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you: I am betray'd, by keeping company |