You may look pale; but I fhould blush, I know, King. Come, Sir, you blush; as his, your cafe is You chide at him, offending twice as much. You do not love Maria? Longaville I would not have him know fo much by me, And Neftor play at pufh-pin with the boys, Where lies thy grief? O tell me, good Dumain; King. Too bitter is thy jeft. Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view? Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd by you. I that am honest, I that hold it fin To break the vow I am engaged in, I am betray'd by keeping company King. Soft, whither away fo faft? A true man or a thief, that gallops fo? Biron. I poft from love; good lover, let me go. Enter Jaquenetta and Coftard. Jaq. God bless the King! King. What prefent haft thou there? Coft. Some certain treafon. King. What makes treason here? The treafon and you go in peace away together. Jaq. I befeech your Grace, let this letter be read, Our Parfon mifdoubts it: it was treafon, he said. King. Biron, read it over. Where hadft thou it? Jaq. Of Coftard. King. Where hadft thou it? [He reads the letter. Coft. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now, what is in you? why doft thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my Liege, a toy your Grace needs not fear it. VOL. II. Long. Long. It did move him to paffion, and therefore let's hear it. Dum. It is Eiron's writing, and here is his name. Biren. Ah, you whorefcn loggerhead, you were born to do me thame. [ Coftard. Guilty, my Lord, guilty: I confefs, I confefs. King. What? Kiron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess. He, he, and you; and you my Liege, and I Biron. True, true; we are four: King. Hence, Sirs, away. Coff. Walk afide the true folk, and let the traitors [Exeunt Colt. and Jaquen. flay. Biron. Sweet Lords, fweet lovers, O, let us embrace: As true we are as flesh and blood can be. The fea will ebb and flow, heaven will fhew his face : We cannot crofs the caufe why we were born, King. What, did thefe rent lines fhew fome love of thine? Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who fees the heavenly Rofaline, That (like a rude and favage man of Inde, At the first opening of the gorgeous eaft) Bows not his vaffal head, and, ftrucken blind, Kiffes the bafe ground with obedient breast ? What peremptory cagle-fighted cye Dares lock upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majefy? King. What zeal, what fury, hath infpir'd thee now? My love (her miftrefs) is a gracious moon; She (an attending ftar) fearce feen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron. O, but for my love, day would turn to night. Of all complexions the cull'd fovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where Where feveral worthies make one dignity; Where nothing wants, that want itself doth feek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues; Fie, painted rhetoric! O, the needs it not: To things of fale a feller's praife belongs: She paffes praife; the praife, too fhort, doth blot, A wither'd hermit, fivefcore winters worn, Might thake off fifty, looking in her eye: And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy; O, who can give aħ oath where is a book, No face is fair, that is not full fo black? O, if in black my Lady's brow be deckt, It mourns, that painting and ufurping hair Should ravifh doaters with a falfe afpect: And therefore is the born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days, For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid difpraife, Paints itfelf black to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her are chimney-fweepers black. Long. And fince her time are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their fweet complexion crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. Biron. Your miftreffes dare never come in rain, For fear their colours fhould be wath'd away. King. 'Twere good, your's did: for, Sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day King. No devil will fright thee then fo much as she. Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff fo dear. Long. Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face fee. Biron. O, if the ftreets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread. Dum. O vile! then as fhe goes, what upward lies The ftreet fhould fee as fhe walk'd over-head. King. But what of this, are we not all in love? Biron. Nothing fo fure, and thereby all forfworn. King. Then leave this chat; and good Biron now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there; fome flattery for this evil. Long. O, fome authority how to proceed; Some tricks, fome quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some falve for perjury. Biron. O, 'tis more than need. Have at you then, Affection's men at arms; And where that you have vow'd to study, (Lords), ? Then, |