7

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse: Away; the gentles are at their game, and we
Lege, domine.
will to our recreation.

Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall
I swear to love?

Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty
vowed!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Another part of the same.
Enter Biron, with a Paper.
Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faith-coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil : I am

ful prove;

Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like
osiers bowed.

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book

thine eyes;

Where all those pleasures live that art would
comprehend:

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall
suffice;

Well learned is that tongue, that well can
thee commend:

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

wrong,

That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly
tongue!

foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for
toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; defile! a
the fool. Well proved, wit! by the lord, this
so, they say, the fool said, and so say 1, and I
me, I a sheep: Well proved again on my side
love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills
will not. O, but her eye,-by this light, ba
I will not love: if I do, hang me; i'faith,
for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her
two eyes. 'Well, I do nothing in the world but
love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to
lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do
and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one
be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme,
fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown,
o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the
would not care a pin if the other three were in:
sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, 1
Here comes one with a paper; God give him
Gets up into a Tree.

grace to groan !

Enter the King, with a Paper.

King. Ah me! Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy Biron. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven !-Proceed, birdbolt under the left pap:-1' faith, secrets.King. [Reads. So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not

Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so
miss the accent; let me supervise the canzonet.sweet
Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the
elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy,
caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why,
indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odo-
riferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention?
Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his mas-As
ter, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider.
But, damosella virgin, was this directed to you?
Jaq. 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:

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have

smote

The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows.
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give
light;

Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee,
So ridest thou triumphing in my wo;
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my grief will show:
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel!
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal

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, ac-
cidentally, or by the way of progression, hath tell.-
miscarried. Trip and go my sweet; deliver How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the
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, 1 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.

paper;

Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes [Steps aside.

here ?

name.

[Aside.

Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?

Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not by two, that I know: Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,

The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.

Long. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power
to move;

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly
concludes it. Sir, [To Dull.] I do invite you O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. These numbers will I tear, and write in prose

Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost
shine,

Ezhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
If by me broke. What fool is not so wise,
To lose an oath, to win a paradise?
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

Dum. As upright as the cedar.
Biron.

Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well
noted.
[Aside.
Stoop, I say;
Her shoulder is with child.
[Aside.
Dum.
As fair as day.
Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun
must shine.
[Aside.

Dum. O that I had my wish!
Long.

And I had mine!
[Aside.
King. And I mine too, good Lord! Aside.
Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a
good word?
[Aside.

Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be.

Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,

That I am forsworn for thee;-
Thee-for whom Jove would swear,
Juno but an Ethiop were;
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, Biron, 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 doat.
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,
To be o'erheard, and taken napping so.
King, Come, sir, [advancing.] you blush; as
his your case is such;

You chide at him, offending twice as much :
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom, to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your
fashion;
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your pas-

sion:

Ah me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
You would for paradise break faith and troth;
[To Long.

And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To Dumain.
What will Biron say, when that he shall hear
Faith infringed, which such a zeal did swear?
How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.-
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me:
Descends from the Tree.
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to re-

prove

These worms for loving, that art most in love 7
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears,
There is no certain princess that appears:
You'll not be perjur'd, 'tis a hateful thing;
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?
You found his mote; the king your mote did see:
But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of foolery I have seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,

Biron. A fever in your blood, why, then inci-To see a king transformed into a gnat!

sion

Would let her out in saucers; Sweetinisprision!
[Aside.
Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have
writ.

Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary
wit.
[Aside.

Dum. On a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath,
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But alack, my hand is sworn,
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:

To see great Hercules whipping a gigg,
And profound Solomon to tune a jigg,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critick Timon laugh at idle toys ?
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumain?
And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege's all about the breast:-
A caudle, ho!

King.
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you;
I that am honest: I, that hold it sin'
To break the vow I am engaged in;
1 am betray'd, by keeping company
With moon-like men, of strange inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme ?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,

name.

Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his [Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [To Costard. you were born to do me shame.Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess. King. What?

Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess;

He, he, and you, my liege, and I,

Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you

inore.

Dum. Now the number is even.
Biron.

True, true; we are four :-
Will these turtles be gone?
King.
Hence, sirs; away.
Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the
traitors stay. [Exeunt Cost. and Jaq.
Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us
embrace!

As true we are, as flesh and blood can be:
The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his
face;

Young blood will not obey an old decree:
We cannot cross the cause why we were born;
Therefore, of all hands raust we be forsworn.
King. What, did these rent lines show some
love of thine ?

Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the
heavenly Rosaline,

That ilke a rude and savage man of Inde,

At the first opening of the gorgeons east,
Bows not his vassal head; and, stricken blind,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory eagle-sighted eye

Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
That is not blinded by her majesty ?
King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee

now?

A wither'd hermit, five-score wiiters worn
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eve
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,

And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine!
King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair, that is not full so black.
King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night
And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well.
Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits
of light.

O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,

It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect:

And therefore is she 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 dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her how.

Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweeperr black.

Long. And since her time are colliers counted bright.

King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack.

Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.

Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain,

For fear their colours should be washed away. King. 'Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,

I'll find à fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.

King. No devil will fright thee then so much
as she.

Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
Long, Look, here's thy love: my foot and her
face see.
[Showing his shoe.
Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine
eyes,

Her feet were much too dainty for such tread! Dum O vile! then as she goes, what upward lies

The street should see as she walk'd overhead. King. But what of this? Are we not all in love? Biron. O, nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.

King. Then leave this chat; and, good Biron,

now prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there;-some flattery for this evil.

devil.

Long. O, some authority how to proceed;
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the
Dum. Some salve for perjury.
Biron.
O, 'tis more than need!
Have at you then, affection's men at arms:
Consider what you first did swear unto ;-
To fast,-to study,-and to see no woman ;-
Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young;
And abstinence engenders maladies.
And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you hath forsworn his book:
Can yon still dream, and pore, and thereon
look?

For when would you, my lord, ar you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face 7
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They are the ground, the books, the academies,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean

fire.

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou should'st have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeon-no word all this while. 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. Ŏ, I smell false Latin; dunghill for un