The Plays of William Shakespeare

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd. Hel. Most military sir, salutation. Math. They have been at the great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. [To Costard aside. Cert. O, they have liv'd long in the alms-basket of words! I marvel, thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honwrificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

Math. Peace; the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur, [To Hol.] are you not letter'd? Math. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book :What is a, b, spelt backward with a horn on his head? Hel. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Meth. Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn:-You hear his learning.

Hel. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

Math. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hel. I will repeat them, a, e, i.

Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it; o, u. 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.

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

Hel. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Math. Horns.

sweet heart, I do implore secrecy,-that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antick 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 wor thies. Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be render'd by our assistance,—the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I 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

Hel. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy thou crushest the snake that is the way to make an gig.

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

Cast. 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 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.

Hel. 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?

Hel. Or, mons, the hill.

Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
Hel. 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.

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

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend :-For what is inward between us, let it pass :-I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy head; and among other importunate and most seriGas 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 shouldet; and with his royal finger, thus, dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but sweet heart, let that pas. By the world, I recount no fable; some certain pecial 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,

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 antick. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Via, good man 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 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 the leaf, margent and all;
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
Ros. That was the way to make his god-head 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
Ight 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,-0 that's, you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care. 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?

Res.

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:
The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too,
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. Any thing 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 debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter.

O, that your face were not so full of O's!

Kath. A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows!
Prin. But 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 Longaville; The letter is too long by half a mile.

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 so.
That same Biron I'll torture e'er I go.

O, that I knew he were but in by the week!
How would I make him fawn, and beg, and seek;
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes;
And shape his service wholly to my behests;
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So portent-like would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are
catch'd,

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 excess, As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

Mar. Folly in fools hears 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, 0, 1 am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her
grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet? Boye

Prepare, nadam, 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
That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
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 addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,

And overheard what you shall overhear ;
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 repli'd, 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,
Cry'd, Via! we will do't, come what will come :
The third he capered, 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, passions 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-eat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several, which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallant 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.

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

Bayet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Hes. What would they, say they?
Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Rs. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
Boyet. She says you have it, and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with her on this grass.

Bay. They say, that they have mensur'd many a mile,

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

Beyet. 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 steps.
Boyet. She hears herself.
Res.

How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
Biren. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,

That we, like savages, may worship it.

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

We'll not be nice: take hands ;-we will not dance. King. Why take we hands then?

Ros. Only to part friends :— Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your company? Res. 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.

Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge invisible,

Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;

Above the sense of sense: so sensible
Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter
things.

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.
[Exe. 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. Welbliking 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?

Kath. Yes, in good faith.
Prin.
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.
Mer. 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.

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 God doth please:
He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares
At wakes, and wassels, 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 whale's 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, usher'd by Boyet; Rosaline, Ma-
ria, 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, delight 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.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be under- Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure stood.

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
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder, what they were; and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely pean'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.
[Exe. Prin. Ros. Kath. and Mar.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville and Dumain, in
their proper habits.

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 here 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.

King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the prin- I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
cess?

Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty,

When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
Biron. This jest is dry to me.-Fair, gentle sweet,

four wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet
With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light: Your capacity
Is of that nature, that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.
Res. This proves you wise and rich; for in my eye,-
Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
Biren. O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
Rer. All the fool mine?
Biron.

I cannot give you less. Per. Which of the visors was it, that you wore? Biren. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this?

Rss. 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?

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

Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

Beron. 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; Cat me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance, Nor never more in Russian habit wait. 0! 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-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, 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.
Res. Sans sans, I pray you.
Biran.
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 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 do I see.

Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us.
Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us.
Ras. 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 trans-
gression

Some fair exeuse.

Prin.

Peace, peace, forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. Prin. I will; and therefore keep it :-Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-sight; and did value me Above this world: adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else 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.

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 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 see the trick on't ;-Here was a consent, (Knowing aforehand of our merriment,) To dash it, like a Christmas comedy: Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany, Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick, -That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,Told our intents before: which once disclos'd, The ladies did change favours; and then we, Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she. Now, to our perjury to add more terror, We are again forsworn; in will, and error. Much upon this it is:-And might not you [To Boyet. Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue? Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire, And laugh upon the apple of her eye? And stand between her back, sir, and the fire, Holding a trencher, jesting merrily? You put our page out: Go, you are allow'd; Die when you will, a smock shall be your shrowd. You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye, Wounds like a leaden sword.

« Zurück Weiter »

Books

The Plays of William Shakespeare, Band 1