Arm. Tell me precisely: of what complexion? Moth. Of the sea-water green, Sir. Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, Sir; and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so, Sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, art masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me! Her faults will ne'er be known; For still her cheeks possess the same, A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar ? Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune. Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digressiont by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Arm. I say, sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA. [Aside. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week: for this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid. Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That's hereby. Arm. I know where is situate. Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! *Which naturally she owns. Dairy. woman. Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away. [Exeunt DULL and JAQ. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth._Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will fast, being loose. Moth. No, Sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see Moth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and, therefore, I will say nothing: I thank God, I have as little patience as another man; and, therefore, I can be quiet. [Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. Í shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falsehood), if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar: love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Samson was so tempted: and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced: and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I-Another part of the same. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants. Boyet. Now, Madam, summon up your dearest spirits: Consider who the king your father sends; To whom he sends; and what's his embassy: * Love † Arrow to shoot at butts with. Best. Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Tell him the daughter of the king of France, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? Prin. Know you the man? Mar. I know him, Madam; at a marriage feast, *Confident in. [Exit, Prin. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth, Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill; And shape to win grace though he had no wit. Ros. Another of these students at that time, Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; With such bedecking ornaments of praise? Mar. Here comes Boyet. Re-enter BOYET. Prin. Now, what admittance, lord? Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he, and his competitors* in oath, Were all address'dt to meet you, gentle lady, Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt, (Like one that comes here to besiege his court), To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The Ladies mask. Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours: and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. * Confederates. VOL. I. + Prepared. 2 B Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. [Gives a paper. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. How needless was it then To ask the question! Biron. You must not be so quick. Ros. "Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Biron. Now fair befall your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! Biron. And send you many lovers! Biron. Nay, then will I be gone. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; But say, that he, or we, (as neither have), Received that sum; yet there remains unpaid A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, One part of Aquitain is bound to us, Although not valued to the money's worth. A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, To have his title live in Aquitain; Which we much rather had depart withal, And have the money by our father lent, Than Aquitain so gelded as it is. Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make |