The works of William Shakespeare complete. With life and glossary

ACT V.

SCENE L-Another part of the same. Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL. Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Nath. I praise God for you, sir; your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don

Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Takes out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography, as to speak, dout, fine, when he should say, doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt;d, e, b, t; not d, e, t;-he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour, vocatur, nebour; neigh, abbreviated, ne: This is abhominable (which he would call abominable), it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic.

Nath. Laus Deo bone intelligo.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circum circà: A gig of a cuckold's horn!

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased that thou wert but my bastard! what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.

Hol. O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.

Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be singled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain? Hol. Or, mons, the hill.

Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
Hol. I do, sans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon: the word is well culled, chose; sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend:

Hol. Bone?bone, for bene: Priscian a little For what is inward between us, let it pass:-I do

scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD.

Nath. Videsne quis venit?

Hol. Video et gaudeo.

Arm. Chirra!

[TO MOTH.

Hol. Quare Chirra, not sirrah? Arm. Men of peace, well encountered. Hol. Most military sir, salutation. Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. [To COSTARD aside. Cost. O, they have lived long on the almsbasket of words! I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace! the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur [to HOL.], are you not lettered? Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book. What is a, b, spelt backward, with a horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. Moth. Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn.-You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

beseech thee, remember thy courtesy:-I beseech thee, apparel thy head:-And among other importunate and most serious designs,-and of great import indeed too;-but let that pass:-for I must tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) Sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder; and with his royal finger, thus, dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable; some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world: but let that pass.-The very all of all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy,the king would have me present the princess, that sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or fire-work. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.

Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate,

Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I repeat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.—
Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it;

Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit: snip, snap, quick, and home: it rejoiceth my intellect:

true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.

say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies. Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules.

Arm. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present | Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, Well done, Hercules ! now thou crushest the snake! that is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the worthies ?-
Hol. I will play three myself.
Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?
Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir.
Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another part of the same. Before the Princess's Pavilion.

Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,

If fairings come thus plentifully in:
A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving king.
Ros. Madam, Came nothing else along with that?
Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in
rhyme,

As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
Writ on both sides of the leaf, margent and all;
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

Ros. That was the way to make his godhead wax;
For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd
your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy:
And so she died: had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might have been a grandam ere she died:
And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this
light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.
Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

out.

Kath. You'll mar the light, by taking it in snuff; Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look what you do; you do it still i' the dark. Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not,-O, that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, past care is still past cure. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But, Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it? Ros. 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 :

I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compar'd to.twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
Prin. Anything like?

Ros. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your
My red dominical, my golden letter: [debtor,
O that your face were not so full of O's!
Kath. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all
shrows!

Prin. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain? Kath. Madam, this glove.

Prin.
Did he not send you twain?
Kath. Yes, madam; and, moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover;
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
Mar. This, and these pearls, to me sent Longa-
The letter is too long by half a mile. [ville;
Prin. I think no less: Dost thou not wish in
heart,

The chain were longer, and the letter short?
Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never

part.

Prin. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking That same Biron I'll torture ere I go.

[so.

As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

[excess,

Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note,
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

Enter BOYET.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.

Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.

Prepare, madam, prepare!-
Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence,
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are

they,

[say. That charge their breath against us? say, scout, Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,

I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold address'd
The king and his companions: warily

I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;

The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too, That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.

Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
"Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:"
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;

I should have fear'd her had she been a devil."
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the

shoulder;

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus; and fleer'd, and swore
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,
Cried, "Via! we will do't, come what will come:"
The third he caper'd, and cried, "All goes well;"
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.
Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus-
Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance:
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several, which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd:

For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.

Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
And then the king will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine;
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.-
And change your favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Ros. Come on, then; wear the favours most in
sight.

Kath. But, in this changing, what is your intent? Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs: They do it but in mocking merriment; And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal, Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages display'd, to talk and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? Prin. No; to the death we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace: But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, 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 mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd, the maskers come. [The ladies mask. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in Russian habits and masked; MOTH, Musicians, and Attendants.

Moth. "All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!' [Aside.

Biron. Beauties no richer than rich taffata. Moth. "A holy parcel of the fairest dames, [The ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn'd their-backs to mortal views!" Biron. "Their eyes," villain," their eyes!" Moth. "That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views! Out❞—

Boyet. True; out, indeed. [voucnsafe Moth. "Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, Not to behold "

Biron. "Once to behold," rogue. Moth. "Once to behold your sun-beamed eyes,❞— "With your sun-beamed eyes

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it, daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. [rogue! Biron. Is this your perfectness? begone, you Ros. What would these strangers? w their minds, Boyet:

If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes:
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so

begone.

[gone. Boyet. She says you have it, and you may beKing. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,

To tread a measure with her on the grass.
Boyet. They say that they have measur'd many
a mile,

To tread a measure with you on the grass.
Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches
Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many,
The measure then of one is easily told.

Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur'd miles,

And many miles, the princess bids you tell,
How many inches do fill up one mile.
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary
Boyet. She hears herself.
[steps.
Ros.

How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
[you;
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.

Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine

(Those clouds remov'd) upon our watery eyne.

Ros. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water. King. Then, in our measure, vouchsafe but one change:

Thou bidd'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then: nay, you must do it [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance:-thus change I like the

soon.

Ros. We can afford no more at such a price.
King. Prize you yourselves: What buys your
company?

Ros. Your absence only.
King.

That can never be.

Ros. Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu;
Twice to your visor, and half once to you!
King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
Ros. In private then.
King.

I am best pleas'd with that.
[They converse apart.
Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word
with thee.
[three.
Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is
Biron. Nay, then, two treys (an if you grow so
nice),
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey.-Well run, dice!
There's half a dozen sweets.

Please it you,
As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
[They converse apart.
Kath. What, was your visor made without a
tongue?

Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
Kath. O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long.
Long. You have a double tongue within your
mask,

And would afford my speechless visor half.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids: break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

[Exeunt KING, Lords, MOTH, Music, and Attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross;
fat, fat.

Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night?
Or ever, but in visors show their faces?
This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.
Ros. O they were all in lamentable cases!
The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.
Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword:
No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;
And trow you what he call'd me?
Prin.

Kath. Yes, in good faith.
Prin.

Qualm, perhaps.

Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute

caps.

But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
Kath. And Longaville was for my service born.
Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
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.
Prin. Will they return?
Boyet. They will, they will, God knows,
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.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be

understood.

Boyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels veiling clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?

Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disguis'd:

Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman:-Is not veal Let us complain to them what fools were here,

a calf?

Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder what they were; and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at
hand.

Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land.

Exeunt PRINCESS, Ros., KATH., and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits.

King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the princess?

Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one
word.

Boyet. I will, and so will she, I know, my lord.
[Exit.

Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas, And utters it again when Jove doth please: He is wit's peddler; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassals, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve: He can carve too, and lisp: Why this is he, That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy; This is the ape of form, Monsieur the nice, 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: This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whales' bone; And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,

That put Armado's page out of his part!
Enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE,
MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants.

Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what wert thou,

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now? King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!

Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave.

King. We came to visit you; and purpose now To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your

VOW:

Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;

The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. 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 Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity. King. O, you have liv'd in desolation here, Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. Prin. Not so, my lord, it is not so, I swear; We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game; A mess of Russians left us but of late. King. How, madam? Russians? Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true: It is not so, my lord; My lady (to the manner of the days), In courtesy, gives undeserving praise. We four, indeed, confronted were with four In Russian habit; here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.

Biron. This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet, Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye, By light we lose light: Your capacity

you this?

Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now downright.

Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?

Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale ?--

Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.

Can any face of brass hold longer out?— Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me;

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 never more to dance,

Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
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. Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,

Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: I do forswear them: and I here protest,

By this white glove, (how white the hand Goa
knows!)

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes;
And, to begin, wench,-so God help me, la!-
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Ros. Sans SANS I pray you.

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 heart it lies; 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.

[us.

Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens to
Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us.
Ros. It is not so. For how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
Biron. Peace; for I will not have to do with you.
Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
Biron. Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end
King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude
transgression
Some fair excuse.

Prin.
The fairest is confession.
Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?
King. Madam, I was.

Prin.

And were you well advis'd?

King. I was, fair madam.

Prin.

When you then were here, What did you whisper in your lady's ear?

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