Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.* In their own shapes; for it can never be, Prin. Will they return? Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. Prin. Avaunt perplexity! What shall we do, Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advised, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disguised: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguised 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. [Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA. Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits. King. Fair Sir, God save you! Where is the princess? Command me any service to her thither? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. [Exit. * Better wits may be found among citizens with their statutory woollen This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, Enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE, MARIA, Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what wert thou, King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke ; Prin. You nick-name virtue; vice you should have spoke; Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied lily, I protest, A world of torments though I should endure, 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),t *The tenor in music. † After the fashion of the time. Undeserved. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, By light we lose light: Your capacity Is of that nature, that to your huge store Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, Biron. I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore ? Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand 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. Amazed, 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; O! never will I trust to speeches penn'd, Nor to the motion of a school-boy'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-piled 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, God 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; *As of velvet. † As on three plague-possessed houses. They are infected, in their hearts it lies; They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes: For the Lord's tokens on you do I see. Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us. 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 disguised? King. Madam, I was. Prin. And were you well advised? 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 reject her. King. Upon mine honour, no. Prin. Peace, peace, forbear; Your oath once broke, you force* not to forswear. Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear 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. Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, Sir, again. King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear; And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear :- I see the trick on't;-Here was a consent t Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany, * Make no difficulty. + Conspiracy. The ladies did change favours; and then we, You put our page out: Go, you are allowed; + Boyet. Full merrily Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. [TO BOYET. Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done. Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray. Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no. Cost. No, Sir; but it is vara fine, For every one pursents three. Biron. And three times thrice is nine. Cost. Not so, Sir; under correction, Sir; I hope, it is not so: You cannot beg us,§ Sir, I can assure you, Sir; we know what we know. I hope, Sir, three times thrice, Sir, Biron. Is not nine. Cost. Under correction, Sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount. Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Cost. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir. Biron. How much is it? Cost. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the Great, Sir. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies ? Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the Great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy; but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare. Cost. We will turn it finely off, Sir; we will take some care. [Exit COSTARD. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not approach. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis some policy To have one show worse than the king's and his company. King. I say, they shall not come. *Square; rule. Horsemanship. You are privileged to say what you please. § We are not idiots whom you can beg the wardship of. |