As honour, without breach of honour, may Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan. Biron. Sick at heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood! Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed, Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight httobe; All senses to that sense did make their repair, To feel only looking on fairest of fair: Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye, As jewels in crystal for someprince to buy; Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were glass'd, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. hath disclos'd: I only have made a mouth of his eye, By adding atongue, which I know will not lie. skilfully. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news same? of him. She is a most sweet lady. Moth. Concolinel [Singing. Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit Long. Arm. Sweet air! - Go, tenderness of years; take Biron. What's her name, in the cap? Royet. Katharine, by goodhap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no? this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love. Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl? Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you! [Exit Biron-Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry! Boyet. And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; shall that finish the Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. Not so, gentle beast! Arm. How mean'st thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away! These are compliments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches-that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men ?) that most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. By my penny of observation. Arm. But O, but 0, Moth. -the hobby-horse is forgot. Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love? Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy. flat: Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose fat. Cast, will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and loose: Masera querdo асга Moth. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant. By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her. Arm. I am all these three. Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all. Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. Moth. A message well sympathised; a horse to be embassador for an ass! Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou? Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin. Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought; Arm. But tell me, how was there a Costard broken Moth. I will tell you sensibly. Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy: I, Costard, running out, that was safely within, lei tr Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin. Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? Moth. You are too swift, sir, to say so: Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun? Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric! He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:- Moth. Thump then, and I flee. Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound. Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose. Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance, and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: Bear this significant to the country maid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration; [Giving him money.] for the best ward of mine honour is, rewarding my dependents. - Moth, follow. Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come, -thy l'envoy; farthings-remuneration.-What's the price of this -begin. Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir. O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain! Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a salve? Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make Some obscure precedence, that hath tofore been sain. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. There's the moral. Now the l'envoy. Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three inkle? a penny;-No, I'll give you a remuneration: why, it carries it.-Remuneration!-why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word. Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration? Biron. Whatis a remuneration? Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing. Biron. O, why then, three-farthings worth of silk. Sall And Est Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning. it is but this; The princess comes to hunt here in the park, name, Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose: And Rosaline they call her: ask for her; And shooting well is then accounted ill. And to her white hand see thou do commend This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go! [Gives him money. Cost. Guerdon, - O sweet guerdon! better than remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better. Most sweet That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill. guerdon! - I will do it, sir, in print.-Guerdon-re- And, out of question, so it is sometimes; muneration. [Exit. Glory grows guilty of detested crimes ; Biron. O! And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip; A very beadle to a humorous sigh; Of trotting paritors, - O my little heart! ACT IV. SCENE I. - Another part of the same. Enter the Princess, ROSALINE, MARIA, CATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester. Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse so hard Against the steep uprising of the hill? When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill. Prin. Only for praise; and praise we may afford To any lady, that subdues a lord. Enter COSTARD. Stand aside, good bearer!-Boyet, you can carve? Boyet. I am bound to serve.- Prin. We will read it, I swear: Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear! Boyet. [Reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici, which to anatomize in the vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; Why did he come? to see; Why did he see? to overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar; Whatsaw he? thebeggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's, the captive is enrich'd; On whose side? the beggar's; The catastrophe is ptial; On whose side? the anu king's?-no, on both in Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say, no? one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the O short-liv'd pride! not fair? alack for woe! For. Yes, madam, fair. Prin. Nay, never paint me now; Here, good my glass, take this for telling true; Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. [Giving him money. Fair payment for foul words is more than due. comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. - Shall I command thy love? Imay: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; Fortittles? titles; For thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey; Submissive fall his princely feet before, 140 And he from forage will incline to play: LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. [Аст IV. Аст O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! Nat! were, so fit. B Armatho o' the one side, -0, a most dainty man! But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever hear Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style. A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport Prin. Thou fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter? Cost. I told you; mylord. Prin. To whom should'st thou give it? Cost. From my lord to my lady. Prin. From whichlord, to which lady? Cost. Frommy lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline. Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. - Come, lords, away. 'Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day. [Exeunt. Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor? Ros. Shall I teach you to know? Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. Ros. Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off! And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit! SCENE II.-The same. Enter HOLOFERNES, Sir NATHANIEL, and DULL. Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,--blood; Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou insert again my haud credo for a deer. Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now? Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot, Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twasa pricket. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand is in. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her to bowl. owl. Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus!-Othon mon- ful should be But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, wit The allusion holds in the exchange. Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange; Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish, extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd by you. and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth. Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shal) want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us. Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person. Hol. Master person, - quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one? Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead. Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty, it is well. Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho I beseech you, read it. Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sul umbra Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue! Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet! Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidious Naso was the man: and why indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, 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. BIRON. Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snowwhite hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline. - I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party written unto. Your Ladyship's in all desired employment, 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, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.-Trip and go, mysweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much: stay not thy compliment; I forgivethy duty: adieu! Jaq. Good Costard, go with me! - Sir, God save your life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl! [Exeunt Cost. and Jag. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith-Hal. 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; whereif, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I 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. Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir, [To Dull.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba.-Away; the gentles are at game, and we will to our recreation.. SCENE III. Another part of the same. Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I amtoiling in a pitch; pitch, that defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so, they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the lord, this love is as mad, as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved again on my side! I will notlove: if I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper; God give him [Gets up into a tree. h is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;) grace to groan! |