Biron. This jest is dry to me. Fair, gentle, sweet,
Your wit makes wife things foolish; when we greet
With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light; your capacity
Is of that nature, as to your huge store
Wife things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.

Rof. This proves you wife and rich; for in my

eye

Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Rof. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to fnatch words from my tongue. Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I poffefs,

Rof. All the fool mine?

Biron. I cannot give you lefs.

Rof. Which of the vizors was it, that you wore ? Biron. Where? when? what vizor? why demand you this?

Rof. There, then, that vizor, that fuperfluous Cafe, That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face.

King. We are defcried; they'll mock us now down-
right,

Dum. Let us confefs, and turn it to a jest.
Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? why looks your Highness
fad?

Rof. Help, hold his brows, he'll fwoon: why look
you pale?

Sea-fick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for Per

jury.

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 Ruffian habit wait.

9 This is a very lofty and elegant compliment.

1

O! ne

O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,

3

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue;
Nor never come in vizor to my friend,
Nor woo in rhime, like a blind harper's fong,
Taffata-phrafes, filken terms precife,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical, these summer-flies,
Have blown me full of maggot oftentation:

I do forswear them; and I here protest,
By this white glove, (how white the hand, God
knows !)

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be exprest
In ruffet yeas, and honeft kersy noes :
And to begin, wench, (fo God help me, law!)
My love to thee is found, fans crack or flaw.
Rof. Sans, fans, I pray you.
Biron. Yet I have a trick

Of the old rage: bear with me, I am fick.
I'll leave it by degrees: foft, let us fee;
Write, Lord have mercy on us, on those three;
They are infected, in their hearts 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 both I fee.

1

Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens

to us.

Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us. Rof. It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that fue? Biron. Peace, for I will not have to do with you.

Write, &c.] This was the inscription put upon the door of the houses infected with the plague, to which Biron compares the love of himself and his companions; and pursuing the metaphor finds the tokens likewise on the ladies. The tokens of the

Rof.

plague are the first spots or discolorations by which the infection is known to be received.

2

- how can this be true, That you should forfeit, being those that fue.] That is, how can those be liable to forfeiture that begin the process. The jeft

Rof. 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 tranf-

greffion

Some fair excufe.

Prin. The fairest is confeffion.

Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?

1

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?

King. That more than all the world I did respect

her.

Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will re

ject her.

King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin. Peace, peece, forbear:

:

Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear 3.

King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will, and therefore keep it.

Rofaline,

What did the Ruffian whisper in your ear?

Rof. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear

As precious eye-fight; and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me, or elfe die my lover.

Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my troth,

I never swore this lady such an oath.

Rof. By heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this; but take it, Sir, again.

T

King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her fleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my Dear.
What? will you have me? or your pearl again?
Biron. Neither of either: I remit both twain.

I fee the trick on't; here was a confent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment)
To dash it, like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, fome please-man, fome flight zany,
Some mumble-news, fome trencher-knight, fome

Dick,

That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's difpos'd,
Told our intents before; which once difclos'd,
The ladies did change Favours, and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the fign of she:
Now to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn; in will, and error 5.
Much upon this it is. --And might not You

A

[To Boyet.

- Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by th' squier,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye,
And stand between her back, Sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jefting merrily?

You put our Page out: go, you are allowed 6;
Die when you will, a fmock shall be your shrowd.
You leer upon me, do you; there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

Boyet. Full merrily

Hath this brave Manage, this Career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting strait. Peace, I have done.

Enter Costard.

Welcome, pure wit, thou partest a fair fray.
Coft. O Lord, Sir, they would know
Whether the three Worthies shall come in, or no.
Biron. What are there but three?

Coft. No, Sir, but it is very fine;

For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times three is nine?

Coft. Not fo, Sir, under correction. Sir; I hope, it is not fo.

You cannot beg us', Sir; I can affure you, Sir, we

know

What we know: I hope, three times three, Sir-
Biron. Is not nine.

Coft. Under correction, Sir, we know where until it doth amount.

Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Coft. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir,

Biron. How much is it?

Coft. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Sir, will shew where until it doth amount; for my own part, I am, as they say, but to perfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great, Sir.

- You cannot beg us.] That is, we are not fools, our next rela. tions cannot beg the wardship of our perfons and fortunes. One of the legal tests of a natural is to try whether he can number.