Loues Labour's lost

William Shakespeare

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  • Loues Labour's lost
  • Loues Labour's lost

    Actus primus.


    Enter Ferdinand King of Nauarre, Berowne, Longauill, and
    Dumane.


      Ferdinand. Let Fame, that all hunt after in their liues,
    Liue registred vpon our brazen Tombes,
    And then grace vs in the disgrace of death:
    when spight of cormorant deuouring Time,
    Th' endeuour of this present breath may buy:
    That honour which shall bate his sythes keene edge,
    And make vs heyres of all eternitie.
    Therefore braue Conquerours, for so you are,
    That warre against your owne affections,
    And the huge Armie of the worlds desires.
    Our late edict shall strongly stand in force,
    Nauar shall be the wonder of the world.
    Our Court shall be a little Achademe,
    Still and contemplatiue in liuing Art.
    You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longauill,
    Haue sworne for three yeeres terme, to liue with me:
    My fellow Schollers, and to keepe those statutes
    That are recorded in this scedule heere.
    Your oathes are past, and now subscribe your names:
    That his owne hand may strike his honour downe,
    That violates the smallest branch heerein:
    If you are arm'd to doe, as sworne to do,
    Subscribe to your deepe oathes, and keepe it to


       Longauill. I am resolu'd, 'tis but a three yeeres fast:
    The minde shall banquet, though the body pine,
    Fat paunches haue leane pates: and dainty bits,
    Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits


       Dumane. My louing Lord, Dumane is mortified,
    The grosser manner of these worlds delights,
    He throwes vpon the grosse worlds baser slaues:
    To loue, to wealth, to pompe, I pine and die,
    With all these liuing in Philosophie


       Berowne. I can but say their protestation ouer,
    So much, deare Liege, I haue already sworne,
    That is, to liue and study heere three yeeres.
    But there are other strict obseruances:
    As not to see a woman in that terme,
    Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
    And one day in a weeke to touch no foode:
    And but one meale on euery day beside:
    The which I hope is not enrolled there.
    And then to sleepe but three houres in the night,
    And not be seene to winke of all the day.
    When I was wont to thinke no harme all night,
    And make a darke night too of halfe the day:
    Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
    O, these are barren taskes, too hard to keepe,
    Not to see Ladies, study, fast, not sleepe


       Ferd. Your oath is past, to passe away from these


       Berow. Let me say no my Liedge, and if you please,
    I onely swore to study with your grace,
    And stay heere in your Court for three yeeres space


       Longa. You swore to that Berowne, and to the rest


       Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest.
    What is the end of study, let me know?
      Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not
    know


       Ber. Things hid &bard (you meane) fro[m] co[m]mon sense


       Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence


       Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so,
    To know the thing I am forbid to know:
    As thus, to study where I well may dine,
    When I to fast expressely am forbid.
    Or studie where to meete some Mistresse fine,
    When Mistresses from common sense are hid.
    Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath,
    Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth.
    If studies gaine be thus, and this be so,
    Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know,
    Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no


       Ferd. These be the stops that hinder studie quite,
    And traine our intellects to vaine delight


       Ber. Why? all delights are vaine, and that most vaine
    Which with paine purchas'd, doth inherit paine,
    As painefully to poare vpon a Booke,
    To seeke the light of truth, while truth the while
    Doth falsely blinde the eye-sight of his looke:
    Light seeking light, doth light of light beguile:
    So ere you finde where light in darkenesse lies,
    Your light growes darke by losing of your eyes.
    Studie me how to please the eye indeede,
    By fixing it vpon a fairer eye,
    Who dazling so, that eye shall be his heed,
    And giue him light that it was blinded by.
    Studie is like the heauens glorious Sunne,
    That will not be deepe search'd with sawcy lookes:
    Small haue continuall plodders euer wonne,
    Saue base authoritie from others Bookes.
    These earthly Godfathers of heauens lights,
    That giue a name to euery fixed Starre,
    Haue no more profit of their shining nights,
    Then those that walke and wot not what they are.
    Too much to know, is to know nought but fame:
    And euery Godfather can giue a name


       Fer. How well hee's read, to reason against reading


       Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding


       Lon. Hee weedes the corne, and still lets grow the
    weeding


       Ber. The Spring is neare when greene geesse are a
    breeding


       Dum. How followes that?
      Ber. Fit in his place and time


       Dum. In reason nothing


       Ber. Something then in rime


       Ferd. Berowne is like an enuious sneaping Frost,
    That bites the first borne infants of the Spring


       Ber. Wel, say I am, why should proud Summer boast,
    Before the Birds haue any cause to sing?
    Why should I ioy in any abortiue birth?
    At Christmas I no more desire a Rose,
    Then wish a Snow in Mayes new fangled showes:
    But like of each thing that in season growes.
    So you to studie now it is too late,
    That were to clymbe ore the house to vnlocke the gate


       Fer. Well, sit you out: go home Berowne: adue


       Ber. No my good Lord, I haue sworn to stay with you.
    And though I haue for barbarisme spoke more,
    Then for that Angell knowledge you can say,
    Yet confident Ile keepe what I haue sworne,
    And bide the pennance of each three yeares day.
    Giue me the paper, let me reade the same,
    And to the strictest decrees Ile write my name


       Fer. How well this yeelding rescues thee from shame


       Ber. Item. That no woman shall come within a mile
    of my Court.
    Hath this bin proclaimed?
      Lon. Foure dayes agoe


       Ber. Let's see the penaltie.
    On paine of loosing her tongue.
    Who deuis'd this penaltie?
      Lon. Marry that did I


       Ber. Sweete Lord, and why?
      Lon. To fright them hence with that dread penaltie,
    A dangerous law against gentilitie.
    Item, If any man be seene to talke with a woman within
    the tearme of three yeares, hee shall indure such
    publique shame as the rest of the Court shall possibly
    deuise


       Ber. This Article my Liedge your selfe must breake,
    For well you know here comes in Embassie
    The French Kings daughter, with your selfe to speake:
    A Maide of grace and compleate maiestie,
    About surrender vp of Aquitaine:
    To her decrepit, sicke, and bed-rid Father.
    Therefore this Article is made in vaine,
    Or vainly comes th' admired Princesse hither


       Fer. What say you Lords?
    Why, this was quite forgot


       Ber. So Studie euermore is ouershot,
    While it doth study to haue what it would,
    It doth forget to doe the thing it should:
    And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
    'Tis won as townes with fire, so won, so lost


       Fer. We must of force dispence with this Decree,
    She must lye here on meere necessitie


       Ber. Necessity will make vs all forsworne
    Three thousand times within this three yeeres space:
    For euery man with his affects is borne,
    Not by might mastred, but by speciall grace.
    If I breake faith, this word shall breake for me,
    I am forsworne on meere necessitie.
    So to the Lawes at large I write my name,
    And he that breakes them in the least degree,
    Stands in attainder of eternall shame.
    Suggestions are to others as to me:
    But I beleeue although I seeme so loth,
    I am the last that will last keepe his oth.
    But is there no quicke recreation granted?
      Fer. I that there is, our Court you know is hanted
    With a refined trauailer of Spaine,
    A man in all the worlds new fashion planted,
    That hath a mint of phrases in his braine:
    One, who the musicke of his owne vaine tongue,
    Doth rauish like inchanting harmonie:
    A man of complements whom right and wrong
    Haue chose as vmpire of their mutinie.
    This childe of fancie that Armado hight,
    For interim to our studies shall relate,
    In high-borne words the worth of many a Knight:
    From tawnie Spaine lost in the worlds debate.
    How you delight my Lords, I know not I,
    But I protest I loue to heare him lie,
    And I will vse him for my Minstrelsie


       Bero. Armado is a most illustrious wight,
    A man of fire, new words, fashions owne Knight


       Lon. Costard the swaine and he, shall be our sport,
    And so to studie, three yeeres is but short.
    Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.


      Const. Which is the Dukes owne person


       Ber. This fellow, What would'st?
      Con. I my selfe reprehend his owne person, for I am
    his graces Tharborough: But I would see his own person
    in flesh and blood


       Ber. This is he


       Con. Signeor Arme, Arme commends you:
    Ther's villanie abroad, this letter will tell you more


       Clow. Sir the Contempts thereof are as touching
    mee


       Fer. A letter from the magnificent Armado


       Ber. How low soeuer the matter, I hope in God for
    high words


       Lon. A high hope for a low heauen, God grant vs patience


       Ber. To heare, or forbeare hearing


       Lon. To heare meekely sir, and to laugh moderately,
    or to forbeare both


       Ber. Well sir, be it as the stile shall giue vs cause to
    clime in the merrinesse


       Clo. The matter is to me sir, as concerning Iaquenetta.
    The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner


       Ber. In what manner?
      Clo. In manner and forme following sir all those three.
    I was seene with her in the Mannor house, sitting with
    her vpon the Forme, and taken following her into the
    Parke: which put to gether, is in manner and forme
    following. Now sir for the manner; It is the manner
    of a man to speake to a woman, for the forme in some
    forme


       Ber. For the following sir


       Clo. As it shall follow in my correction, and God defend
    the right


       Fer. Will you heare this Letter with attention?
      Ber. As we would heare an Oracle


       Clo. Such is the simplicitie of man to harken after the
    flesh


       Ferdinand. Great Deputie, the Welkins Vicegerent, and sole
    dominator
    of Nauar, my soules earths God, and bodies fostring
    patrone:
      Cost. Not a word of Costard yet


       Ferd. So it is


       Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is in telling
    true: but so


       Ferd. Peace,
      Clow. Be to me, and euery man that dares not fight


       Ferd. No words,
      Clow. Of other mens secrets I beseech you


       Ferd. So it is besieged with sable coloured melancholie, I
    did commend the blacke oppressing humour to the most
    wholesome
    Physicke of thy health-giuing ayre: And as I am a Gentleman,
    betooke my selfe to walke: the time When? about the
    sixt houre, When beasts most grase, birds best pecke, and men
    sit downe to that nourishment which is called supper: So much
    for the time When. Now for the ground Which? which I
    meane I walkt vpon, it is ycliped, Thy Parke. Then for the
    place Where? where I meane I did encounter that obscene and
    most preposterous euent that draweth from my snow-white pen
    the ebon coloured Inke, which heere thou viewest, beholdest:
    suruayest, or seest. But to the place Where? It standeth
    North North-east and by East from the West corner of thy
    curious knotted garden; There did I see that low spirited
    Swaine, that base Minow of thy myrth,
      Clown. Mee?
      Ferd. that vnletered small knowing soule,
      Clow Me?
      Ferd. that shallow
    vassall
      Clow. Still mee?)
      Ferd. which as I remember, hight Costard,
      Clow. O me)
      Ferd. sorted and consorted contrary to thy established
    proclaymed Edict and Continent, Cannon: Which
    with, o with, but with this I passion to say wherewith:
      Clo. With a Wench


       Ferd. With a childe of our Grandmother Eue, a female;
    or for thy more sweet understanding a woman: him, I (as my
    euer esteemed dutie prickes me on) haue sent to thee, to receiue
    the meed of punishment by the sweet Graces Officer Anthony
    Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, &estimation


       Anth. Me, an't shall please you? I am Anthony Dull


       Ferd. For Iaquenetta (so is the weaker vessell called)
    which I apprehended with the aforesaid Swaine, I keepe her
    as a vessell of thy Lawes furie, and shall at the least of thy
    sweet notice, bring her to triall. Thine in all complements of
    deuoted and heart-burning heat of dutie.
    Don Adriana de Armado


       Ber. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best
    that euer I heard


       Fer. I the best, for the worst. But sirra, What say you
    to this?
      Clo. Sir I confesse the Wench


       Fer. Did you heare the Proclamation?
      Clo. I doe confesse much of the hearing it, but little
    of the marking of it


       Fer. It was proclaimed a yeeres imprisonment to bee
    taken with a Wench


       Clow. I was taken with none sir, I was taken with a
    Damosell


       Fer. Well, it was proclaimed Damosell


       Clo. This was no Damosell neyther sir, shee was a
    Virgin


       Fer. It is so varried to, for it was proclaimed Virgin


       Clo. If it were, I denie her Virginitie: I was taken
    with a Maide


       Fer. This Maid will not serue your turne sir


       Clo. This Maide will serue my turne sir


       Kin. Sir I will pronounce your sentence: You shall
    fast a Weeke with Branne and water


       Clo. I had rather pray a Moneth with Mutton and
    Porridge


       Kin. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
    My Lord Berowne, see him deliuer'd ore,
    And goe we Lords to put in practice that,
    Which each to other hath so strongly sworne


       Bero. Ile lay my head to any good mans hat,
    These oathes and lawes will proue an idle scorne.
    Sirra, come on


       Clo. I suffer for the truth sir: for true it is, I was taken
    with Iaquenetta, and Iaquenetta is a true girle, and
    therefore welcome the sowre cup of prosperitie, affliction
    may one day smile againe, and vntill then sit downe
    sorrow.
    Enter.


    Enter Armado and Moth his Page.


      Arma. Boy, What signe is it when a man of great
    spirit growes melancholy?
      Boy. A great signe sir, that he will looke sad


       Brag. Why? sadnesse is one and the selfe-same thing
    deare impe


       Boy. No no, O Lord sir no


       Brag. How canst thou part sadnesse and melancholy
    my tender Iuuenall?
      Boy. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my
    tough signeur


       Brag. Why tough signeur? Why tough signeur?
      Boy. Why tender Iuuenall? Why tender Iuuenall?
      Brag. I spoke it tender Iuuenall, as a congruent apathaton,
    appertaining to thy young daies, which we may
    nominate tender


       Boy. And I tough signeur, as an appertinent title to
    your olde time, which we may name tough


       Brag. Pretty and apt


       Boy. How meane you sir, I pretty, and my saying apt?
    or I apt, and my saying prettie?
      Brag. Thou pretty because little


       Boy. Little pretty, because little: wherefore apt?
      Brag. And therefore apt, because quicke


       Boy. Speake you this in my praise Master?
      Brag. In thy condigne praise


       Boy. I will praise an Eele with the same praise


       Brag. What? that an Eele is ingenuous


       Boy. That an Eele is quicke


       Brag. I doe say thou art quicke in answeres. Thou
    heat'st my bloud


       Boy. I am answer'd sir


       Brag. I loue not to be crost


       Boy. He speakes the meere contrary, crosses loue not him


       Br. I haue promis'd to study iij. yeres with the Duke


       Boy. You may doe it in an houre sir


       Brag. Impossible


       Boy. How many is one thrice told?
      Bra. I am ill at reckning, it fits the spirit of a Tapster


       Boy. You are a gentleman and a gamester sir


       Brag. I confesse both, they are both the varnish of a
    compleat man


       Boy. Then I am sure you know how much the grosse
    summe of deus-ace amounts to


       Brag. It doth amount to one more then two


       Boy. Which the base vulgar call three


       Br. True


       Boy. Why sir is this such a peece of study?
    Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink, &how
    easie it is to put yeres to the word three, and study three
    yeeres in two words, the dancing horse will tell you


       Brag. A most fine Figure


       Boy. To proue you a Cypher


       Brag. I will heereupon confesse I am in loue: and as
    it is base for a Souldier to loue; so am I in loue with a
    base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
    of affection, would deliuer mee from the reprobate
    thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransome
    him to any French Courtier for a new deuis'd curtsie. I
    thinke scorne to sigh, me thinkes I should out-sweare
    Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men haue beene
    in loue?
      Boy. Hercules Master


       Brag. Most sweete Hercules: more authority deare
    Boy, name more; and sweet my childe let them be men
    of good repute and carriage


       Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage,
    great carriage: for hee carried the Towne-gates on his
    backe like a Porter: and he was in loue


       Brag. O well-knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson;
    I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst mee
    in carrying gates. I am in loue too. Who was Sampsons
    loue my deare Moth?
      Boy. A Woman, Master


       Brag. Of what complexion?
      Boy. Of all the foure, or the three, or the two, or one
    of the foure


       Brag. Tell me precisely of what complexion?
      Boy. Of the sea-water Greene sir


       Brag. Is that one of the foure complexions?
      Boy. As I haue read sir, and the best of them too


       Brag. Greene indeed is the colour of Louers: but to
    haue a Loue of that colour, methinkes Sampson had small
    reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit


       Boy. It was so sir, for she had a greene wit


       Brag. My Loue is most immaculate white and red


       Boy. Most immaculate thoughts Master, are mask'd
    vnder such colours


       Brag. Define, define, well educated infant


       Boy. My fathers witte, and my mothers tongue assist
    mee


       Brag. Sweet inuocation of a childe, most pretty and
    patheticall


       Boy. If shee be made of white and red,
    Her faults will nere be knowne:
    For blushin cheekes by faults are bred,
    And feares by pale white showne:
    Then if she feare, or be to blame,
    By this you shall not know,
    For still her cheekes possesse the same,
    Which natiue she doth owe:
    A dangerous rime master against the reason of white
    and redde


       Brag. Is there not a ballet Boy, of the King and the
    Begger?
      Boy. The world was very guilty of such a Ballet some
    three ages since, but I thinke now 'tis not to be found: or
    if it were, it would neither serue for the writing, nor the
    tune


       Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I
    may example my digression by some mighty president.
    Boy, I doe loue that Countrey girle that I tooke in
    the Parke with the rationall hinde Costard: she deserues
    well


       Boy. To bee whip'd: and yet a better loue then my
    Master


       Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in loue


       Boy. And that's great maruell, louing a light wench


       Brag. I say sing


       Boy. Forbeare till this company be past.
    Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.


      Const. Sir, the Dukes pleasure, is that you keepe Costard
    safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no
    penance, but hee must fast three daies a weeke: for this
    Damsell, I must keepe her at the Parke, shee is alowd for
    the Day-woman. Fare you well.
    Enter.


      Brag. I do betray my selfe with blushing: Maide


       Maid. Man


       Brag. I wil visit thee at the Lodge


       Maid. That's here by


       Brag. I know where it is situate


       Mai. Lord how wise you are!
      Brag. I will tell thee wonders


       Ma. With what face?
      Brag. I loue thee


       Mai. So I heard you say


       Brag. And so farewell


       Mai. Faire weather after you


       Clo. Come Iaquenetta, away.


    Exeunt.


      Brag. Villaine, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere
    thou be pardoned


       Clo. Well sir, I hope when I doe it, I shall doe it on a
    full stomacke


       Brag. Thou shalt be heauily punished


       Clo. I am more bound to you then your fellowes, for
    they are but lightly rewarded


       Clo. Take away this villaine, shut him vp


       Boy. Come you transgressing slaue, away


       Clow. Let mee not bee pent vp sir, I will fast being
    loose


       Boy. No sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to
    prison


       Clow. Well, if euer I do see the merry dayes of desolation
    that I haue seene, some shall see


       Boy. What shall some see?
      Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they
    looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their
    words, and therefore I will say nothing: I thanke God, I
    haue as little patience as another man, and therefore I
    can be quiet.
    Enter.


      Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base)
    where her shooe (which is baser) guided by her foote
    (which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which
    is a great argument of falshood) if I loue. And how can
    that be true loue, which is falsly attempted? Loue is a familiar,
    Loue is a Diuell. There is no euill Angell but
    Loue, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent
    strength: Yet was Salomon so seduced, and hee had
    a very good witte. Cupids Butshaft is too hard for Hercules
    Clubbe, and therefore too much ods for a Spaniards
    Rapier: The first and second cause will not serue
    my turne: the Passado hee respects not, the Duello he
    regards not; his disgrace is to be called Boy, but his
    glorie is to subdue men. Adue Valour, rust Rapier, bee
    still Drum, for your manager is in loue; yea hee loueth.
    Assist me some extemporall god of Rime, for I am sure I
    shall turne Sonnet. Deuise Wit, write Pen, for I am for
    whole volumes in folio.


    Enter.



    Finis Actus Primus.


    Actus Secunda.


    Enter the Princesse of France, with three attending Ladies, and
    three
    Lords


       Boyet. Now Madam summon vp your dearest spirits,
    Consider who the King your father sends:
    To whom he sends, and what's his Embassie.
    Your selfe, held precious in the worlds esteeme,
    To parlee with the sole inheritour
    Of all perfections that a man may owe,
    Matchlesse Nauarre, the plea of no lesse weight
    Then Aquitaine, a Dowrie for a Queene,
    Be now as prodigall of all deare grace,
    As Nature was in making Graces deare,
    When she did starue the generall world beside,
    And prodigally gaue them all to you


       Queen. Good L[ord]. Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
    Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
    Beauty is bought by iudgement of the eye,
    Not vttred by base sale of chapmens tongues:
    I am lesse proud to heare you tell my worth,
    Then you much willing to be counted wise,
    In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
    But now to taske the tasker, good Boyet


       Prin. You are not ignorant all-telling fame
    Doth noyse abroad Nauar hath made a vow,
    Till painefull studie shall out-weare three yeares,
    No woman may approach his silent Court:
    Therefore to's seemeth it a needfull course,
    Before we enter his forbidden gates,
    To know his pleasure, and in that behalfe
    Bold of your worthinesse, we single you,
    As our best mouing faire soliciter:
    Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
    On serious businesse crauing quicke dispatch,
    Importunes personall conference with his grace.
    Haste, signifie so much while we attend,
    Like humble visag'd suters his high will


       Boy. Proud of imployment, willingly I goe.
    Enter.


      Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so:
    Who are the Votaries my Louing Lords, that are vow-fellowes
    with this vertuous Duke?
      Lor. Longauill is one


       Princ. Know you the man?
      1 Lady. I know him Madame at a marriage feast,
    Betweene L[ord]. Perigort and the beautious heire
    Of Iaques Fauconbridge solemnized.
    In Normandie saw I this Longauill,
    A man of soueraigne parts he is esteem'd:
    Well fitted in Arts, glorious in Armes:
    Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
    The onely soyle of his faire vertues glosse,
    If vertues glosse will staine with any soile,
    Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a Will:
    Whose edge hath power to cut whose will still wills,
    It should none spare that come within his power


       Prin. Some merry mocking Lord belike, ist so?
      Lad.1. They say so most, that most his humors know


       Prin. such short liu'd wits do wither as they grow.
    Who are the rest?
      2.Lad. The yong Dumaine, a well accomplisht youth,
    Of all that Vertue loue, for Vertue loued.
    Most power to doe most harme, least knowing ill:
    For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
    And shape to win grace though she had no wit.
    I saw him at the Duke Alansoes once,
    And much too little of that good I saw,
    Is my report to his great worthinesse


       Rossa. Another of these Students at that time,
    Was there with him, as I haue heard a truth.
    Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
    Within the limit of becomming mirth,
    I neuer spent an houres talke withall.
    His eye begets occasion for his wit,
    For euery obiect that the one doth catch,
    The other turnes to a mirth-mouing iest.
    Which his faire tongue (conceits expositor)
    Deliuers in such apt and gracious words,
    That aged eares play treuant at his tales,
    And yonger hearings are quite rauished.
    So sweet and voluble is his discourse


       Prin. God blesse my Ladies, are they all in loue?
    That euery one her owne hath garnished,
    With such bedecking ornaments of praise


       Ma. Heere comes Boyet.
    Enter Boyet.


      Prin. Now, what admittance Lord?
      Boyet. Nauar had notice of your faire approach;
    And he and his competitors in oath,
    Were all addrest to meete you gentle Lady
    Before I came: Marrie thus much I haue learnt,
    He rather meanes to lodge you in the field,
    Like one that comes heere to besiege his Court,
    Then seeke a dispensation for his oath:
    To let you enter his vnpeopled house.
    Enter Nauar, Longauill, Dumaine, and Berowne.


    Heere comes Nauar


       Nau. Faire Princesse, welcom to the Court of Nauar


       Prin. Faire I giue you backe againe, and welcome I
    haue not yet: the roofe of this Court is too high to bee
    yours, and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be
    mine


       Nau. You shall be welcome Madam to my Court


       Prin. I wil be welcome then, Conduct me thither


       Nau. Heare me deare Lady, I haue sworne an oath


       Prin. Our Lady helpe my Lord, he'll be forsworne


       Nau. Not for the world faire Madam, by my will


       Prin. Why, will shall breake it will, and nothing els


       Nau. Your Ladiship is ignorant what it is


       Prin. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise,
    Where now his knowledge must proue ignorance.
    I heare your grace hath sworne out House-keeping:
    'Tis deadly sinne to keepe that oath my Lord,
    And sinne to breake it:
    But pardon me, I am too sodaine bold,
    To teach a Teacher ill beseemeth me.
    Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my comming,
    And sodainly resolue me in my suite


       Nau. Madam, I will, if sodainly I may


       Prin. You will the sooner that I were away,
    For you'll proue periur'd if you make me stay


       Berow. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
      Rosa. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
      Ber. I know you did


       Rosa. How needlesse was it then to ask the question?
      Ber. You must not be so quicke


       Rosa. 'Tis long of you y spur me with such questions


       Ber. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire


       Rosa. Not till it leaue the Rider in the mire


       Ber. What time a day?
      Rosa. The howre that fooles should aske


       Ber. Now faire befall your maske


       Rosa. Faire fall the face it couers


       Ber. And send you many louers


       Rosa. Amen, so you be none


       Ber. Nay then will I be gone


       Kin. Madame, your father heere doth intimate,
    The paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
    Being but th' one halfe, of an intire summe,
    Disbursed by my father in his warres.
    But say that he, or we, as neither haue
    Receiu'd that summe; yet there remaines vnpaid
    A hundred thousand more: in surety of the which,
    One part of Aquitaine is bound to vs,
    Although not valued to the moneys worth.
    If then the King your father will restore
    But that one halfe which is vnsatisfied,
    We will giue vp our right in Aquitaine,
    And hold faire friendship with his Maiestie:
    But that it seemes he little purposeth,
    For here he doth demand to haue repaie,
    An hundred thousand Crownes, and not demands
    One paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
    To haue his title liue in Aquitaine.
    Which we much rather had depart withall,
    And haue the money by our father lent,
    Then Aquitane, so guelded as it is.
    Deare Princesse, were not his requests so farre
    From reasons yeelding, your faire selfe should make
    A yeelding 'gainst some reason in my brest,
    And goe well satisfied to France againe


       Prin. You doe the King my Father too much wrong,
    And wrong the reputation of your name,
    In so vnseeming to confesse receyt
    Of that which hath so faithfully beene paid


       Kin. I doe protest I neuer heard of it,
    And if you proue it, Ile repay it backe,
    Or yeeld vp Aquitaine


       Prin. We arrest your word:
    Boyet, you can produce acquittances
    For such a summe, from speciall Officers,
    Of Charles his Father


       Kin. Satisfie me so


       Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come
    Where that and other specialties are bound,
    To morrow you shall haue a sight of them


       Kin. It shall suffice me; at which enterview,
    All liberall reason would I yeeld vnto:
    Meane time, receiue such welcome at my hand,
    As honour, without breach of Honour may
    Make tender of, to thy true worthinesse.
    You may not come faire Princesse in my gates,
    But heere without you shall be so receiu'd,
    As you shall deeme your selfe lodg'd in my heart,
    Though so deni'd farther harbour in my house:
    Your owne good thoughts excuse me, and farewell,
    To morrow we shall visit you againe


       Prin. Sweet health &faire desires consort your grace


       Kin. Thy own wish wish I thee, in euery place.
    Enter.


      Boy. Lady, I will commend you to my owne heart


       La.Ro. Pray you doe my commendations,
    I would be glad to see it


       Boy. I would you heard it grone


       La.Ro. Is the soule sicke?
      Boy. Sicke at the heart


       La.Ro. Alacke, let it bloud


       Boy. Would that doe it good?
      La.Ro. My Phisicke saies I


       Boy. Will you prick't with your eye


       La.Ro. No poynt, with my knife


       Boy. Now God saue thy life


       La.Ro. And yours from long liuing


       Ber. I cannot stay thanks-giuing.
    Enter.


    Enter Dumane.


      Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What Lady is that same?
      Boy. The heire of Alanson, Rosalin her name


       Dum. A gallant Lady, Mounsier fare you well


       Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
      Boy. A woman somtimes, if you saw her in the light


       Long. Perchance light in the light: I desire her name


       Boy. Shee hath but one for her selfe,
    To desire that were a shame


       Long. Pray you sir, whose daughter?
      Boy. Her Mothers, I haue heard


       Long. Gods blessing a your beard


       Boy. Good sir be not offended,
    Shee is an heyre of Faulconbridge


       Long. Nay, my choller is ended:
    Shee is a most sweet Lady.


    Exit. Long.


      Boy. Not vnlike sir, that may be.
    Enter Beroune.


      Ber. What's her name in the cap


       Boy. Katherine by good hap


       Ber. Is she wedded, or no


       Boy. To her will sir, or so,
      Ber. You are welcome sir, adiew


       Boy. Fare well to me sir, and welcome to you.
    Enter.


      La.Ma. That last is Beroune, the mery mad-cap Lord.
    Not a word with him, but a iest


       Boy. And euery iest but a word


       Pri. It was well done of you to take him at his word


       Boy. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to boord


       La.Ma. Two hot Sheepes marie:
    And wherefore not Ships?
      Boy. No Sheepe (sweet Lamb) vnlesse we feed on your lips


       La. You Sheepe &I pasture: shall that finish the iest?
      Boy. So you grant pasture for me


       La. Not so gentle beast.
    My lips are no Common, though seuerall they be


       Bo. Belonging to whom?
      La. To my fortunes and me


       Prin. Good wits wil be iangling, but gentles agree.
    This ciuill warre of wits were much better vsed
    On Nauar and his bookemen, for heere 'tis abus'd


       Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lies
    By the hearts still rhetoricke, disclosed with eyes)
    Deceiue me not now, Nauar is infected


       Prin. With what?
      Bo. With that which we Louers intitle affected


       Prin. Your reason


       Bo. Why all his behauiours doe make their retire,
    To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
    His hart like an Agot with your print impressed,
    Proud with his forme, in his eie pride expressed.
    His tongue all impatient to speake and not see,
    Did stumble with haste in his eie-sight to be,
    All sences to that sence did make their repaire,
    To feele onely looking on fairest of faire:
    Me thought all his sences were lockt in his eye,
    As Iewels in Christall for some Prince to Buy.
    Who tendring their own worth from whence they were glast,
    Did point out to buy them along as you past.
    His faces owne margent did coate such amazes,
    That all eyes saw his eies inchanted with gazes.
    Ile giue you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
    And you giue him for my sake, but one louing Kisse


       Prin. Come to our Pauillion, Boyet is disposde


       Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath disclos'd.
    I onelie haue made a mouth of his eie,
    By adding a tongue, which I know will not lie


       Lad.Ro. Thou art an old Loue-monger, and speakest
    skilfully


       Lad.Ma. He is Cupids Grandfather, and learnes news
    of him


       Lad.2. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father
    is but grim


       Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?
      La.1. No


       Boy. What then, do you see?
      Lad.2. I, our way to be gone


       Boy. You are too hard for me.


    Exeunt. omnes.


    Actus Tertius.


    Enter Braggart and Boy.


    Song.


      Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hearing


       Boy. Concolinel


       Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take
    this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him festinatly
    hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my
    Loue


       Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule?
      Bra. How meanest thou, brauling in French?
      Boy. No my compleat master, but to Iigge off a tune
    at the tongues end, canarie to it with the feete, humour
    it with turning vp your eie: sigh a note and sing a note,
    sometime through the throate: if you swallowed loue
    with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you
    snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouselike
    ore the shop of your eies, with your armes crost on
    your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your
    hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting,
    and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away:
    these are complements, these are humours, these betraie
    nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and
    make them men of note: do you note men that most are
    affected to these?
      Brag. How hast thou purchased this experience?
      Boy. By my penne of obseruation


       Brag. But O, but O


       Boy. The Hobbie-horse is forgot


       Bra. Cal'st thou my loue Hobbi-horse


       Boy. No Master, the Hobbie-horse is but a Colt, and
    and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie:
    but haue you forgot your Loue?
      Brag. Almost I had


       Boy. Negligent student, learne her by heart


       Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy


       Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will
    proue


       Brag. What wilt thou proue?
      Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vpon
    the instant: by heart you loue her, because your heart
    cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your
    heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her,
    being out of heart that you cannot enioy her


       Brag. I am all these three


       Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
    at all


       Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a
    letter


       Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be embassadour
    for an Asse


       Brag. Ha, ha, What saiest thou?
      Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse
    for he is verie slow gated: but I goe


       Brag. The way is but short, away


       Boy. As swift as Lead sir


       Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a
    mettall heauie, dull, and slow?
      Boy. Minnime honest Master, or rather Master no


       Brag. I say Lead is slow


       Boy. You are too swift sir to say so.
    Is that Lead slow which is fir'd from a Gunne?
      Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike,
    He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he:
    I shoote thee at the Swaine


       Boy. Thump then, and I flee


       Bra. A most acute Iuuenall, voluble and free of grace,
    By thy fauour sweet Welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
    Most rude melancholie, Valour giues thee place.
    My Herald is return'd.
    Enter Page and Clowne.


      Pag. A wonder Master, here's a Costard broken in a
    shin


       Ar. Some enigma, some riddle, come, thy Lenuoy
    begin


       Clo. No egma, no riddle, no lenuoy, no salue, in thee
    male sir. Or sir, Plantan, a plaine Plantan: no lenuoy, no
    lenuoy, no Salue sir, but a Plantan


       Ar. By vertue, thou inforcest laughter, thy sillie
    thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes
    me to rediculous smyling: O pardon me my stars, doth
    the inconsiderate take salue for lenuoy, and the word lenuoy
    for a salue?
      Pag. Doe the wise thinke them other, is not lenuoy a
    salue?
      Ar. No Page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plaine,
    Some obscure precedence that hath tofore bin faine.
    Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
    my lenuoy.
    The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
    Were still at oddes, being but three


       Arm. Vntill the Goose came out of doore,
    Staying the oddes by adding foure


       Pag. A good Lenuoy, ending in the Goose: would you
    desire more?
      Clo. The Boy hath sold him a bargaine, a Goose, that's flat.
    Sir, your penny-worth is good, and your Goose be fat.
    To sell a bargaine well is as cunning as fast and loose:
    Let me see a fat Lenuoy, I that's a fat Goose


       Ar. Come hither, come hither:
    How did this argument begin?
      Boy. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.
    Then cal'd you for the Lenuoy


       Clow. True, and I for a Plantan:
    Thus came your argument in:
    Then the Boyes fat Lenuoy, the Goose that you bought,
    And he ended the market


       Ar. But tell me: How was there a Costard broken in
    a shin?
      Pag. I will tell you sencibly


       Clow. Thou hast no feeling of it Moth,
    I will speake that Lenuoy.
    I Costard running out, that was safely within,
    Fell ouer the threshold, and broke my shin


       Arm. We will talke no more of this matter


       Clow. Till there be more matter in the shin


       Arm. Sirra Costard, I will infranchise thee


       Clow. O, marrie me to one Francis, I smell some Lenuoy,
    some Goose in this


       Arm. By my sweete soule, I meane, setting thee at libertie.
    Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured,
    restrained, captiuated, bound


       Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation,
    and let me loose


       Arm. I giue thee thy libertie, set thee from durance,
    and in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:
    Beare this significant to the countrey Maide Iaquenetta:
    there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honours
    is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow


       Pag. Like the sequell I.
    Signeur Costard adew.
    Enter.


      Clow. My sweete ounce of mans flesh, my inconie
    Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration.
    Remuneration, O, that's the Latine word for three-farthings:
    Three-farthings remuneration, What's the price
    of this yncle? i.d. no, Ile giue you a remuneration: Why?
    It carries it remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
    a French-Crowne. I will neuer buy and sell out of this
    word.
    Enter Berowne.


      Ber. O my good knaue Costard, exceedingly well met


       Clow. Pray you sir, How much Carnation Ribbon
    may a man buy for a remuneration?
      Ber. What is a remuneration?
      Cost. Marrie sir, halfe pennie farthing


       Ber. O, Why then threefarthings worth of Silke


       Cost. I thanke your worship, God be wy you


       Ber. O stay slaue, I must employ thee:
    As thou wilt win my fauour, good my knaue,
    Doe one thing for me that I shall intreate


       Clow. When would you haue it done sir?
      Ber. O this after-noone


       Clo. Well, I will doe it sir: Fare you well


       Ber. O thou knowest not what it is


       Clo. I shall know sir, when I haue done it


       Ber. Why villaine thou must know first


       Clo. I wil come to your worship to morrow morning


       Ber. It must be done this after-noone,
    Harke slaue, it is but this:
    The Princesse comes to hunt here in the Parke,
    And in her traine there is a gentle Ladie:
    When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
    And Rosaline they call her, aske for her:
    And to her white hand see thou do commend
    This seal'd-vp counsaile. Ther's thy guerdon: goe


       Clo. Gardon, O sweete gardon, better then remuneration,
    a leuenpence-farthing better: most sweete gardon.
    I will doe it sir in print: gardon, remuneration.
    Enter.


      Ber. O, and I forsooth in loue,
    I that haue beene loues whip?
    A verie Beadle to a humerous sigh: A Criticke,
    Nay, a night-watch Constable.
    A domineering pedant ore the Boy,
    Then whom no mortall so magnificent,
    This wimpled, whyning, purblinde waiward Boy,
    This signior Iunios gyant dwarfe, don Cupid,
    Regent of Loue-rimes, Lord of folded armes,
    Th' annointed soueraigne of sighes and groanes:
    Liedge of all loyterers and malecontents:
    Dread Prince of Placcats, King of Codpeeces.
    Sole Emperator and great generall
    Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)
    And I to be a Corporall of his field,
    And weare his colours like a Tumblers hoope.
    What? I loue, I sue, I seeke a wife,
    A woman that is like a Germane Cloake,
    Still a repairing: euer out of frame,
    And neuer going a right, being a Watch:
    But being watcht, that it may still goe right.
    Nay, to be periurde, which is worst of all:
    And among three, to loue the worst of all,
    A whitly wanton, with a veluet brow.
    With two pitch bals stucke in her face for eyes.
    I, and by heauen, one that will doe the deede,
    Though Argus were her Eunuch and her garde.
    And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
    To pray for her, go to: it is a plague
    That Cupid will impose for my neglect,
    Of his almighty dreadfull little might.
    Well, I will loue, write, sigh, pray, shue, grone,
    Some men must loue my Lady, and some Ione.

    Actus Quartus.


    Enter the Princesse, a Forrester, her Ladies, and her Lords.


      Qu. Was that the King that spurd his horse so hard,
    Against the steepe vprising of the hill?
      Boy. I know not, but I thinke it was not he


       Qu. Who ere a was, a shew'd a mounting minde:
    Well Lords, to day we shall haue our dispatch,
    On Saterday we will returne to France.
    Then Forrester my friend, Where is the Bush
    That we must stand and play the murtherer in?
      For. Hereby vpon the edge of yonder Coppice,
    A stand where you may make the fairest shoote


       Qu. I thanke my beautie, I am faire that shoote,
    And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoote


       For. Pardon me Madam, for I meant not so


       Qu. What, what? First praise me, &then again say no.
    O short liu'd pride. Not faire? alacke for woe


       For. Yes Madam faire


       Qu. Nay, neuer paint me now,
    Where faire is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
    Here (good my glasse) take this for telling true:
    Faire paiment for foule words, is more then due


       For. Nothing but faire is that which you inherit


       Qu. See, see, my beautie will be sau'd by merit.
    O heresie in faire, fit for these dayes,
    A giuing hand, though foule, shall haue faire praise.
    But come, the Bow: Now Mercie goes to kill,
    And shooting well, is then accounted ill:
    Thus will I saue my credit in the shoote,
    Not wounding, pittie would not let me do't:
    If wounding, then it was to shew my skill,
    That more for praise, then purpose meant to kill.
    And out of question, so it is sometimes:
    Glory growes guiltie of detested crimes,
    When for Fames sake, for praise an outward part,
    We bend to that, the working of the hart.
    As I for praise alone now seeke to spill
    The poore Deeres blood, that my heart meanes no ill


       Boy. Do not curst wiues hold that selfe-soueraigntie
    Onely for praise sake, when they striue to be
    Lords ore their Lords?
      Qu. Onely for praise, and praise we may afford,
    To any Lady that subdewes a Lord.
    Enter Clowne.


      Boy. Here comes a member of the common-wealth


       Clo. God dig-you-den all, pray you which is the head
    Lady?
      Qu. Thou shalt know her fellow, by the rest that haue
    no heads


       Clo. Which is the greatest Lady, the highest?
      Qu. The thickest, and the tallest


       Clo. The thickest, &the tallest: it is so, truth is truth .
    And your waste Mistris, were as slender as my wit,
    One a these Maides girdles for your waste should be fit.
    Are not you the chiefe woma[n]? You are the thickest here?
      Qu. What's your will sir? What's your will?
      Clo. I haue a Letter from Monsier Berowne,
    To one Lady Rosaline


       Qu. O thy letter, thy letter: He's a good friend of mine.
    Stand a side good bearer.
    Boyet, you can carue,
    Breake vp this Capon


       Boyet. I am bound to serue.
    This Letter is mistooke: it importeth none here:
    It is writ to Iaquenetta


       Qu. We will read it, I sweare.
    Breake the necke of the Waxe, and euery one giue eare


       Boyet reades. By heauen, that thou art faire, is most infallible:
    true
    that thou art beauteous, truth it selfe that thou art
    louely: more fairer then faire, beautifull then beautious,
    truer then truth it selfe: haue comiseration on thy heroicall
    Vassall. The magnanimous and most illustrate King
    Cophetua set eie vpon the pernicious and indubitate Begger
    Zenelophon: and he it was that might rightly say, Veni,
    vidi, vici: Which to annothanize in the vulgar, O
    base and obscure vulgar; videliset, He came, See, and ouercame:
    hee came one; see, two; ouercame three:
    Who came? the King. Why did he come? to see. Why
    did he see? to ouercome. To whom came he? to the
    Begger. What saw he? the Begger. Who ouercame
    he? the Begger. The conclusion is victorie: On whose
    side? the King: the captiue is inricht: On whose side?
    the Beggers. The catastrophe is a Nuptiall: on whose
    side? the Kings: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am
    the King (for so stands the comparison) thou the Begger,
    for so witnesseth thy lowlinesse. Shall I command
    thy loue? I may. Shall I enforce thy loue? I could.
    Shall I entreate thy loue? I will. What, shalt thou exchange
    for ragges, roabes: for tittles titles, for thy selfe
    mee. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on
    thy foote, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy
    euerie part.
    Thine in the dearest designe of industrie,
    Don Adriana de Armatho.
    Thus dost thou heare the Nemean Lion roare,
    Gainst thee thou Lambe, that standest as his pray:
    Submissiue fall his princely feete before,
    And he from forrage will incline to play.
    But if thou striue (poore soule) what art thou then?
    Foode for his rage, repasture for his den


       Qu. What plume of feathers is hee that indited this
    Letter? What veine? What Wethercocke? Did you
    euer heare better?
      Boy. I am much deceiued, but I remember the stile


       Qu. Else your memorie is bad, going ore it erewhile


       Boy. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court
    A Phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
    To the Prince and his Booke-mates


       Qu. Thou fellow, a word.
    Who gaue thee this Letter?
      Clow. I told you, my Lord


       Qu. To whom should'st thou giue it?
      Clo. From my Lord to my Lady


       Qu. From which Lord, to which Lady?
      Clo. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
    To a Lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline


       Qu. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come Lords away.
    Here sweete, put vp this, 'twill be thine another day.


    Exeunt.


      Boy. Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter?
      Rosa. Shall I teach you to know


       Boy. I my continent of beautie


       Rosa. Why she that beares the Bow. Finely put off


       Boy. My Lady goes to kill hornes, but if thou marrie,
    Hang me by the necke, if hornes that yeare miscarrie.
    Finely put on


       Rosa. Well then, I am the shooter


       Boy. And who is your Deare?
      Rosa. If we choose by the hornes, your selfe come not
    neare. Finely put on indeede


       Maria. You still wrangle with her Boyet, and shee
    strikes at the brow


       Boyet. But she her selfe is hit lower:
    Haue I hit her now


       Rosa. Shall I come vpon thee with an old saying, that
    was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as
    touching the hit it


       Boyet. So I may answere thee with one as old that
    was a woman when Queene Guinouer of Brittaine was a
    little wench, as touching the hit it


       Rosa. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
    Thou canst not hit it my good man


       Boy. I cannot, cannot, cannot:
    And I cannot, another can.
    Enter.


      Clo. By my troth most pleasant, how both did fit it


       Mar. A marke marueilous well shot, for they both
    did hit


       Boy. A mark, O marke but that marke: a marke saies
    my Lady.
    Let the mark haue a pricke in't, to meat at, if it may be


       Mar. Wide a'th bow hand, yfaith your hand is out


       Clo. Indeede a' must shoote nearer, or heele ne're hit
    the clout


       Boy. And if my hand be out, then belike your hand
    is in


       Clo. Then will shee get the vpshoot by cleauing the
    is in


       Ma. Come, come, you talke greasely, your lips grow
    foule


       Clo. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir challenge her
    to boule


       Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good
    Oule


       Clo. By my soule a Swaine, a most simple Clowne.
    Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue put him downe.
    O my troth most sweete iests, most inconie vulgar wit,
    When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were,
    so fit.
    Armathor ath to the side, O a most dainty man.
    To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
    To see him kisse his hand, and how most sweetly a will
    sweare:
    And his Page atother side, that handfull of wit,
    Ah heauens, it is most patheticall nit.
    Sowla, sowla.


    Exeunt. Shoote within.


    Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.


      Nat. Very reuerent sport truely, and done in the testimony
    of a good conscience


       Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood,
    ripe as a Pomwater who now hangeth like a Iewell in
    the eare of Celo the skie; the welken the heauen, and anon
    falleth like a Crab on the face of Terra, the soyle, the
    land, the earth


       Curat.Nath. Truely M[aster]. Holofernes, the epythithes are
    sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I assure
    ye, it was a Bucke of the first head


       Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo


       Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket


       Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde of insinuation,
    as it were in via, in way of explication facere: as
    it were replication, or rather ostentare, to show as it were
    his inclination after his vndressed, vnpolished, vneducated,
    vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or ratherest
    vnconfirmed fashion, to insert againe my haud credo
    for a Deare


       Dul. I said the Deare was not a haud credo, 'twas a
    Pricket


       Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou monster
    Ignorance, how deformed doost thou looke


       Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the dainties that are
    bred in a booke.
    He hath not eate paper as it were:
    He hath not drunke inke.
    His intellect is not replenished, hee is onely an animall,
    onely sensible in the duller parts: and such barren plants
    are set before vs, that we thankfull should be: which we
    taste and feeling, are for those parts that doe fructifie in
    vs more then he.
    For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or
    a foole;
    So were there a patch set on Learning, to see him in a
    Schoole.
    But omne bene say I, being of an old Fathers minde,
    Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde


       Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your
    wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue
    weekes old as yet?
      Hol. Dictisima goodman Dull, dictisima goodman
    Dull


       Dul. What is dictima?
      Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone


       Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was
    no more.
    And wrought not to fiue-weekes when he came to fiuescore.
    Th' allusion holds in the Exchange


       Dul. 'Tis true indeede, the Collusion holds in the
    Exchange


       Hol. God comfort thy capacity, I say th' allusion holds
    in the Exchange


       Dul. And I say the polusion holds in the Exchange:
    for the Moone is neuer but a month old: and I say beside
    that, 'twas a Pricket that the Princesse kill'd


       Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall
    Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour
    the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a
    Pricket


       Nath. Perge, good M[aster]. Holofernes, perge, so it shall
    please you to abrogate scurilitie


       Hol. I will something affect a letter, for it argues
    facilitie.
    The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt
    a prettie pleasing Pricket,
    Some say a Sore, but not a sore,
    till now made sore with shooting.
    The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore,
    then Sorrell iumps from thicket:
    Or Pricket-sore, or else Sorell,
    the people fall a hooting.
    If Sore be sore, than ell to Sore,
    makes fiftie sores O sorell:
    Of one sore I an hundred make
    by adding but one more L


       Nath. A rare talent


       Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him
    with a talent


       Nath. This is a gift that I haue simple: simple, a foolish
    extrauagant spirit, full of formes, figures, shapes, obiects,
    Ideas, apprehensions, motions, reuolutions. These
    are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the
    wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing
    of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is
    acute, and I am thankfull for it


       Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my
    parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you,
    and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you
    are a good member of the common-wealth


       Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingenuous, they
    shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable,
    I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca loquitur, a
    soule Feminine saluteth vs.
    Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.


      Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M[aster]. Person


       Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should
    be perst, Which is the one?
      Clo. Marry M[aster]. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a
    hogshead


       Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit
    in a turph of Earth, Fire enough for a Flint, Pearle
    enough for a Swine: 'tis prettie, it is well


       Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee
    this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard, and sent mee
    from Don Armatho: I beseech you read it


       Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra
    ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan, I
    may speake of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie,
    vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perreche. Old Mantuan,
    old Mantuan. Who vnderstandeth thee not, vt re
    sol la mi fa: Vnder pardon sir, What are the contents? or
    rather as Horrace sayes in his, What my soule verses


       Hol. I sir, and very learned


       Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege domine.
    If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue?
    Ah neuer faith could hold, if not to beautie vowed.
    Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile faithfull proue.
    Those thoughts to mee were Okes, to thee like Osiers
    bowed.
    Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes.
    Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend.
    If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice.
    Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee co[m]mend.
    All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder.
    Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;
    Thy eye Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadfull
    thunder.
    Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fire.
    Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong,
    That sings heauens praise, with such an earthly tongue


       Ped. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the
    accent. Let me superuise the cangenet


       Nath. Here are onely numbers ratified, but for the
    elegancy, facility, &golden cadence of poesie caret: Ouiddius
    Naso was the man. And why in deed Naso, but
    for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the
    ierkes of inuention imitarie is nothing: So doth the
    Hound his master, the Ape his keeper, the tyred Horse
    his rider: But Damosella virgin, Was this directed to
    you?
      Iaq. I sir from one mounsier Berowne, one of the
    strange Queenes Lords


       Nath. I will ouerglance the superscript.
    To the snow-white hand of the most beautious Lady Rosaline.
    I will looke againe on the intellect of the Letter, for
    the nomination of the partie written to the person written
    vnto.
    Your Ladiships in all desired imployment, Berowne


       Ped. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries
    with the King, and here he hath framed a Letter to a sequent
    of the stranger Queens: which accidentally, or
    by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and
    goe my sweete, deliuer this Paper into the hand of the
    King, it may concerne much: stay not thy complement, I
    forgiue thy duetie, adue


       Maid. Good Costard go with me:
    Sir God saue your life


       Cost. Haue with thee my girle.
    Enter.


      Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very
    religiously: and as a certaine Father saith
      Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare colourable
    colours. But to returne to the Verses, Did they please
    you sir Nathaniel?
      Nath. Marueilous well for the pen


       Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill
    of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to
    gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I
    haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill,
    vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those
    Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of
    Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie


       Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text)
    is the happinesse of life


       Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it.
    Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not say me nay: pauca
    verba.
    Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our
    recreation.


    Exeunt.


    Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone.


      Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare,
    I am coursing my selfe.
    They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch,
    pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee
    downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say
    I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this
    Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a
    sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue;
    if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by
    this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for
    her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye,
    and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath
    taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is
    part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she
    hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the
    Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter
    Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care
    a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a
    paper, God giue him grace to grone.


    He stands aside. The King entreth.


      Kin. Ay mee!
      Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast
    thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap: in faith
    secrets


       King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not,
    To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose,
    As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot.
    The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
    Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright,
    Through the transparent bosome of the deepe,
    As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light:
    Thou shin'st in euery teare that I doe weepe,
    No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee:
    So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
    Do but behold the teares that swell in me,
    And they thy glory through my griefe will show:
    But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
    My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe.
    O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell,
    No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
    How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
    Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
    Enter Longauile. The King steps aside.


    What Longauill, and reading: listen eare


       Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare


       Long. Ay me, I am forsworne


       Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers


       Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame


       Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name


       Lon. Am I the first y haue been periur'd so?
      Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know,
    Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie,
    The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie


       Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue.
    O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue,
    These numbers will I teare, and write in prose


       Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose,
    Disfigure not his Shop


       Lon. This same shall goe.


    He reades the Sonnet.


    Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye,
    'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
    Perswade my heart to this false periurie?
    Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment.
    A Woman I forswore, but I will proue,
    Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee.
    My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
    Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
    Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
    Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine,
    Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:
    If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
    If by me broke, What foole is not so wise,
    To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?
      Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity.
    A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure Idolatry.
    God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th' way.
    Enter Dumaine.


      Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay


       Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play,
    Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie,
    And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
    More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish,
    Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish


       Dum. O most diuine Kate


       Bero. O most prophane coxcombe


       Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye


       Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye


       Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted


       Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted


       Dum. As vpright as the Cedar


       Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child


       Dum. As faire as day


       Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine


       Dum. O that I had my wish?
      Lon. And I had mine


       Kin. And mine too good Lord


       Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?
      Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she
    Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be


       Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision
    Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision


       Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I haue writ


       Ber. Once more Ile marke how Loue can varry Wit.


    Dumane reades his Sonnet.


    On a day, alack the day:
    Loue, whose Month is euery May,
    Spied a blossome passing faire,
    Playing in the wanton ayre:
    Through the Veluet, leaues the winde,
    All vnseene, can passage finde.
    That the Louer sicke to death,
    Wish himselfe the heauens breath.
    Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe,
    Ayre, would I might triumph so.
    But alacke my hand is sworne,
    Nere to plucke thee from thy throne:
    Vow alacke for youth vnmeete,
    youth so apt to plucke a sweet.
    Doe not call it sinne in me,
    That I am forsworne for thee.
    Thou for whom Ioue would sweare,
    Iuno but an aethiop were,
    And denie himselfe for Ioue.
    Turning mortall for thy Loue.
    This will I send, and something else more plaine.
    That shall expresse my true-loues fasting paine.
    O would the King, Berowne and Longauill,
    Were Louers too, ill to example ill,
    Would from my forehead wipe a periur'd note:
    For none offend, where all alike doe dote


       Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie,
    That in Loues griefe desir'st societie:
    You may looke pale, but I should blush I know,
    To be ore-heard, and taken napping so


       Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such,
    You chide at him, offending twice as much.
    You doe not loue Maria? Longauile,
    Did neuer Sonnet for her sake compile;
    Nor neuer lay his wreathed armes athwart
    His louing bosome, to keepe downe his heart.
    I haue beene closely shrowded in this bush,
    And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
    I heard your guilty Rimes, obseru'd your fashion:
    Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion.
    Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries!
    On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
    You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,
    And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath.
    What will Berowne say when that he shall heare
    Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare.
    How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit?
    How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it?
    For all the wealth that euer I did see,
    I would not haue him know so much by me


       Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie.
    Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me.
    Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reproue
    These wormes for louing, that art most in loue?
    Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares.
    There is no certaine Princesse that appeares.
    You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing:
    Tush, none but Minstrels like of Sonnetting.
    But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not
    All three of you, to be thus much ore'shot?
    You found his Moth, the King your Moth did see:
    But I a Beame doe finde in each of three.
    O what a Scene of fool'ry haue I seene.
    Of sighes, of grones, of sorrow, and of teene:
    O me, with what strict patience haue I sat,
    To see a King transformed to a Gnat?
    To see great Hercules whipping a Gigge,
    And profound Salomon tuning a Iygge?
    And Nestor play at push-pin with the boyes,
    And Critticke Tymon laugh at idle toyes.
    Where lies thy griefe? O tell me good Dumaine;
    And gentle Longauill, where lies thy paine?
    And where my Liedges? all about the brest:
    A Candle hoa!
      Kin. Too bitter is thy iest.
    Are wee betrayed thus to thy ouer-view?
      Ber. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you.
    I that am honest, I that hold it sinne
    To breake the vow I am ingaged in.
    I am betrayed by keeping company
    With men, like men of inconstancie.
    When shall you see me write a thing in rime?
    Or grone for Ioane? or spend a minutes time,
    In pruning mee, when shall you heare that I will praise a
    hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a state, a brow, a brest,
    a waste, a legge, a limme


       Kin. Soft, Whither away so fast?
    A true man, or a theefe, that gallops so


       Ber. I post from Loue, good Louer let me go.
    Enter Iaquenetta and Clowne.


      Iaqu. God blesse the King


       Kin. What Present hast thou there?
      Clo. Some certaine treason


       Kin. What makes treason heere?
      Clo. Nay it makes nothing sir


       Kin. If it marre nothing neither,
    The treason and you goe in peace away together


       Iaqu. I beseech your Grace let this Letter be read,
    Our person mis-doubts it: it was treason he said


       Kin. Berowne, read it ouer.


    He reades the Letter.


      Kin. Where hadst thou it?
      Iaqu. Of Costard


       King. Where hadst thou it?
      Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio


       Kin. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it?
      Ber. A toy my Liedge, a toy: your grace needes not
    feare it


       Long. It did moue him to passion, and therefore let's
    heare it


       Dum. It is Berowns writing, and heere is his name


       Ber. Ah you whoreson loggerhead, you were borne
    to doe me shame.
    Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confesse, I confesse


       Kin. What?
      Ber. That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make
    vp the messe.
    He, he, and you: and you my Liedge, and I,
    Are picke-purses in Loue, and we deserue to die.
    O dismisse this audience, and I shall tell you more


       Dum. Now the number is euen


       Berow. True true, we are fowre: will these Turtles
    be gone?
      Kin. Hence sirs, away


       Clo. Walk aside the true folke, &let the traytors stay


       Ber. Sweet Lords, sweet Louers, O let vs imbrace,
    As true we are as flesh and bloud can be,
    The Sea will ebbe and flow, heauen will shew his face:
    Young bloud doth not obey an old decree.
    We cannot crosse the cause why we are borne:
    Therefore of all hands must we be forsworne


       King. What, did these rent lines shew some loue of
    thine?
      Ber. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heauenly Rosaline,
    That (like a rude and sauage man of Inde.)
    At the first opening of the gorgeous East,
    Bowes not his vassall head, and strooken blinde,
    Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
    What peremptory Eagle-sighted eye
    Dares looke vpon the heauen of her brow,
    That is not blinded by her maiestie?
      Kin. What zeale, what furie, hath inspir'd thee now?
    My Loue (her Mistres) is a gracious Moone,
    Shee (an attending Starre) scarce seene a light


       Ber. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
    O, but for my Loue, day would turne to night,
    Of all complexions the cul'd soueraignty,
    Doe meet as at a faire in her faire cheeke,
    Where seuerall Worthies make one dignity,
    Where nothing wants, that want it selfe doth seeke.
    Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,
    Fie painted Rethoricke, O she needs it not,
    To things of sale, a sellers praise belongs:
    She passes prayse, then prayse too short doth blot.
    A withered Hermite, fiuescore winters worne,
    Might shake off fiftie, looking in her eye:
    Beauty doth varnish Age, as if new borne,
    And giues the Crutch the Cradles infancie.
    O 'tis the Sunne that maketh all things shine


       King. By heauen, thy Loue is blacke as Ebonie


       Berow. Is Ebonie like her? O word diuine?
    A wife of such wood were felicite.
    O who can giue an oth? Where is a booke?
    That I may sweare Beauty doth beauty lacke,
    If that she learne not of her eye to looke:
    No face is faire that is not full so blacke


       Kin. O paradoxe, Blacke is the badge of hell,
    The hue of dungeons, and the Schoole of night:
    And beauties crest becomes the heauens well


       Ber. Diuels soonest tempt resembling spirits of light.
    O if in blacke my Ladies browes be deckt,
    It mournes, that painting vsurping haire
    Should rauish doters with a false aspect:
    And therfore is she borne to make blacke, faire.
    Her fauour turnes the fashion of the dayes,
    For natiue bloud is counted painting now:
    And therefore red that would auoyd dispraise,
    Paints it selfe blacke, to imitate her brow


       Dum. To look like her are Chimny-sweepers blacke


       Lon. And since her time, are Colliers counted bright


       King. And Aethiops of their sweet complexion crake


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


       Ber. Your mistresses dare neuer come in raine,
    For feare their colours should be washt away


       Kin. 'Twere good yours did: for sir to tell you plaine,
    Ile finde a fairer face not washt to day


       Ber. Ile proue her faire, or talke till dooms-day here


       Kin. No Diuell will fright thee then so much as shee


       Duma. I neuer knew man hold vile stuffe so deere


       Lon. Looke, heer's thy loue, my foot and her face see


       Ber. O if the streets were paued with thine eyes,
    Her feet were much too dainty for such tread


       Duma. O vile, then as she goes what vpward lyes?
    The street should see as she walk'd ouer head


       Kin. But what of this, are we not all in loue?
      Ber. O nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworne


       Kin. Then leaue this chat, &good Berown now proue
    Our louing lawfull, and our fayth not torne


       Dum. I marie there, some flattery for this euill


       Long. O some authority how to proceed,
    Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the diuell


       Dum. Some salue for periurie,
      Ber. O 'tis more then neede.
    Haue at you then affections men at armes,
    Consider what you first did sweare vnto:
    To fast, to study, and to see no woman:
    Flat treason against the Kingly state of youth.
    Say, Can you fast? your stomacks are too young:
    And abstinence ingenders maladies.
    And where that you haue vow'd to studie (Lords)
    In that each of you haue forsworne his Booke.
    Can you still dreame and pore, and thereon looke.
    For when would you my Lord, or you, or you,
    Haue found the ground of studies excellence,
    Without the beauty of a womans face;
    From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue,
    They are the Ground, the Bookes, the Achadems,
    From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
    Why, vniuersall plodding poysons vp
    The nimble spirits in the arteries,
    As motion and long during action tyres
    The sinnowy vigour of the trauailer.
    Now for not looking on a womans face,
    You haue in that forsworne the vse of eyes:
    And studie too, the causer of your vow.
    For where is any Author in the world,
    Teaches such beauty as a womans eye:
    Learning is but an adiunct to our selfe,
    And where we are, our Learning likewise is.
    Then when our selues we see in Ladies eyes,
    With our selues.
    Doe we not likewise see our learning there?
    O we haue made a Vow to studie, Lords,
    And in that vow we haue forsworne our Bookes:
    For when would you (my Leege) or you, or you?
    In leaden contemplation haue found out
    Such fiery Numbers as the prompting eyes,
    Of beauties tutors haue inrich'd you with:
    Other slow Arts intirely keepe the braine:
    And therefore finding barraine practizers,
    Scarce shew a haruest of their heauy toyle.
    But Loue first learned in a Ladies eyes,
    Liues not alone emured in the braine:
    But with the motion of all elements,
    Courses as swift as thought in euery power,
    And giues to euery power a double power,
    Aboue their functions and their offices.
    It addes a precious seeing to the eye:
    A Louers eyes will gaze an Eagle blinde.
    A Louers eare will heare the lowest sound.
    When the suspicious head of theft is stopt.
    Loues feeling is more soft and sensible,
    Then are the tender hornes of Cockle Snayles.
    Loues tongue proues dainty, Bachus grosse in taste,
    For Valour, is not Loue a Hercules?
    Still climing trees in the Hesperides.
    Subtill as Sphinx, as sweet and musicall,
    As bright Apollo's Lute, strung with his haire.
    And when Loue speakes, the voyce of all the Gods,
    Make heauen drowsie with the harmonie.
    Neuer durst Poet touch a pen to write,
    Vntill his Inke were tempred with Loues sighes:
    O then his lines would rauish sauage eares,
    And plant in Tyrants milde humilitie.
    From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue.
    They sparcle still the right promethean fire,
    They are the Bookes, the Arts, the Achademes,
    That shew, containe, and nourish all the world.
    Else none at all in ought proues excellent.
    Then fooles you were these women to forsweare:
    Or keeping what is sworne, you will proue fooles,
    For Wisedomes sake, a word that all men loue:
    Or for Loues sake, a word that loues all men.
    Or for Mens sake, the author of these Women:
    Or Womens sake, by whom we men are Men.
    Let's once loose our oathes to finde our selues,
    Or else we loose our selues, to keepe our oathes:
    It is religion to be thus forsworne.
    For Charity it selfe fulfills the Law:
    And who can seuer loue from Charity


       Kin. Saint Cupid then, and Souldiers to the field


       Ber. Aduance your standards, &vpon them Lords,
    Pell, mell, downe with them: but be first aduis'd,
    In conflict that you get the Sunne of them


       Long. Now to plaine dealing, Lay these glozes by,
    Shall we resolue to woe these girles of France?
      Kin. And winne them too, therefore let vs deuise,
    Some entertainment for them in their Tents


       Ber. First from the Park let vs conduct them thither,
    Then homeward euery man attach the hand
    Of his faire Mistresse, in the afternoone
    We will with some strange pastime solace them:
    Such as the shortnesse of the time can shape,
    For Reuels, Dances, Maskes, and merry houres,
    Fore-runne faire Loue, strewing her way with flowres


       Kin. Away, away, no time shall be omitted,
    That will be time, and may by vs be fitted


       Ber. Alone, alone sowed Cockell, reap'd no Corne,
    And Iustice alwaies whirles in equall measure:
    Light Wenches may proue plagues to men forsworne,
    If so, our Copper buyes no better treasure.


    Exeunt.


    Actus Quartus.


    Enter the Pedant, Curate and Dull.


      Pedant. Satis quid sufficit


       Curat. I praise God for you sir, your reasons at dinner
    haue beene sharpe &sententious: pleasant without scurrillity,
    witty without affection, audacious without impudency,
    learned without opinion, and strange without
    heresie: I did conuerse this quondam day with a companion
    of the Kings, who is intituled, nominated, or called,
    Don Adriano de Armatho


       Ped. Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is lofty,
    his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his eye
    ambitious, his gate maiesticall, and his generall behauiour
    vaine, ridiculous, and thrasonicall. He is too picked,
    too spruce, too affected, too odde, as it were, too peregrinat,
    as I may call it


       Curat. A most singular and choise Epithat,


    Draw out his Table-booke.


      Peda. He draweth out the thred of his verbositie, finer
    then the staple of his argument. I abhor such phanaticall
    phantasims, such insociable and poynt deuise
    companions, such rackers of ortagriphie, as to speake
    dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he shold
    pronounce debt; debt, not det: he clepeth a Calf, Caufe:
    halfe, haufe: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abreuiated
    ne: this is abhominable, which he would call abhominable
    it insinuateth me of infamie: ne inteligis domine, to
    make franticke, lunaticke?
      Cura. Laus deo, bene intelligo


       Peda. Bome boon for boon prescian, a little scratcht, 'twil
    serue.
    Enter Bragart, Boy.


      Curat. Vides ne quis venit?
      Peda. Video, &gaudio


       Brag. Chirra


       Peda. Quari Chirra, not Sirra?
      Brag. Men of peace well incountred


       Ped. Most millitarie sir salutation


       Boy. They haue beene at a great feast of Languages,
    and stolne the scraps


       Clow. O they haue liu'd long on the almes-basket of
    words. I maruell thy M[aster]. hath not eaten thee for a word,
    for thou art not so long by the head as
    honorificabilitu%dinitatibus:
    Thou art easier swallowed then a flapdragon


       Page. Peace, the peale begins


       Brag. Mounsier, are you not lettred?
      Page. Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horne-booke:
    What is Ab speld backward with the horn on his head?
      Peda. Ba, puericia with a horne added


       Pag. Ba most seely Sheepe, with a horne: you heare
    his learning


       Peda. Quis quis, thou Consonant?
      Pag. The last of the fiue Vowels if You repeat them,
    or the fift if I


       Peda. I will repeat them: a e I


       Pag. The Sheepe, the other two concludes it o u


       Brag. Now by the salt waue of the mediteranium, a
    sweet tutch, a quicke venewe of wit, snip snap, quick home, it reioyceth my intellect, true wit


       Page. Offered by a childe to an olde man: which is
    wit-old


       Peda. What is the figure? What is the figure?
      Page. Hornes


       Peda. Thou disputes like an Infant: goe whip thy
    Gigge


       Pag. Lend me your Horne to make one, and I will
    whip about your Infamie vnum cita a gigge of a Cuckolds
    horne


       Clow. And I had but one penny in the world, thou
    shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread: Hold, there is the
    very Remuneration I had of thy Maister, thou halfpenny
    purse of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of discretion. O &the
    heauens were so pleased, that thou wert but my Bastard;
    What a ioyfull father wouldst thou make mee? Goe to,
    thou hast it ad dungil, at the fingers ends, as they say


       Peda. Oh I smell false Latine, dunghel for vnguem


       Brag. Arts-man preambulat, we will bee singled from
    the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the Charghouse
    on the top of the Mountaine?
      Peda. Or Mons the hill


       Brag. At your sweet pleasure, for the Mountaine


       Peda. I doe sans question


       Bra. Sir, it is the Kings most sweet pleasure and affection,
    to congratulate the Princesse at her Pauilion, in
    the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call
    the after-noone


       Ped. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable,
    congruent, and measurable for the after-noone: the
    word is well culd, chose, sweet, and apt I doe assure you
    sir, I doe assure


       Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my familiar,
    I doe assure ye very good friend: for what is inward
    betweene vs, let it passe. I doe beseech thee remember
    thy curtesie. I beseech thee apparell thy head:
    and among other importunate &most serious designes,
    and of great import indeed too: but let that passe, for I
    must tell thee it will please his Grace (by the world)
    sometime to leane vpon my poore shoulder, and with
    his royall finger thus dallie with my excrement, with my
    mustachio: but sweet heart let that passe. By the world
    I recount no fable, some certaine speciall honours it
    pleaseth his greatnesse to impart to Armado a Souldier,
    a man of trauell, that hath seene the world: but let that
    passe; the very all of all is: but sweet heart I do implore
    secrecie, that the King would haue mee present the
    Princesse (sweet chucke) with some delightfull ostentation,
    or show, or pageant, or anticke, or fire-worke:
    Now, vnderstanding that the Curate and your sweet self
    are good at such eruptions, and sodaine breaking out of
    myrth (as it were) I haue acquainted you withall, to
    the end to craue your assistance


       Peda. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies .
    Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment
    of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to bee
    rendred by our assistants the Kings command: and this
    most gallant, illustrate and learned Gentleman, before
    the Princesse: I say none so fit as to present the Nine
    Worthies


       Curat. Where will you finde men worthy enough to
    present them?
      Peda. Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gentleman
    Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his
    great limme or ioynt) shall passe Pompey the great, the
    Page Hercules


       Brag. Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough
    for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big as the end of
    his Club


       Peda. Shall I haue audience: he shall present Hercules
    in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling a
    Snake; and I will haue an Apologie for that purpose


       Pag. An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience
    hisse, you may cry, Well done Hercules, now thou crushest
    the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious,
    though few haue the grace to doe it


       Brag. For the rest of the Worthies?
      Peda. I will play three my selfe


       Pag. Thrice worthy Gentleman


       Brag. Shall I tell you a thing?
      Peda. We attend


       Brag. We will haue, if this fadge not, an Antique. I
    beseech you follow


       Ped. Via good-man Dull, thou hast spoken no word
    all this while


       Dull. Nor vnderstood none neither sir


       Ped. Alone, we will employ thee


       Dull. Ile make one in a dance, or so: or I will play
    on the taber to the Worthies, &let them dance the hey


       Ped. Most Dull, honest Dull, to our sport away.
    Enter.


    Enter Ladies.


      Qu. Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart,
    If fairings come thus plentifully in.
    A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds: Look you, what I
    haue from the louing King


       Rosa. Madam, came nothing else along with that?
      Qu. Nothing but this: yes as much loue in Rime,
    As would be cram'd vp in a sheet of paper
    Writ on both sides the leafe, margent and all,
    That he was faine to seale on Cupids name


       Rosa. That was the way to make his god-head wax:
    For he hath beene fiue thousand yeeres a Boy


       Kath. I, and a shrewd vnhappy gallowes too


       Ros. You'll nere be friends with him, a kild your sister


       Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heauy, and
    so she died: had she beene Light like you, of such a merrie
    nimble stirring spirit, she might a bin a Grandam ere
    she died. And so may you: For a light heart liues long


       Ros. What's your darke meaning mouse, of this light
    word?
      Kat. A light condition in a beauty darke


       Ros. We need more light to finde your meaning out


       Kat. You'll marre the light by taking it in snuffe:
    Therefore Ile darkely end the argument


       Ros. Look what you doe, you doe it stil i'th darke


       Kat. So do not you, for you are a light Wench


       Ros. Indeed I waigh not you, and therefore light


       Ka. You waigh me not, O that's you care not for me


       Ros. Great reason: for past care, is still past cure


       Qu. Well bandied both, a set of Wit well played.
    But Rosaline, you haue a Fauour too?
    Who sent it? and what is it?
      Ros. I would you knew.
    And if my face were but as faire as yours,
    My Fauour were as great, be witnesse this.
    Nay, I haue Verses too, I thanke Berowne,
    The numbers true, and were the numbring too.
    I were the fairest goddesse on the ground.
    I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
    O he hath drawne my picture in his letter


       Qu. Any thing like?
      Ros. Much in the letters, nothing in the praise


       Qu. Beauteous as Incke: a good conclusion


       Kat. Faire as a text B. in a Coppie booke


       Ros. Ware pensals. How? Let me not die your debtor,
    My red Dominicall, my golden letter.
    O that your face were full of Oes


       Qu. A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes:
    But Katherine, what was sent to you
    From faire Dumaine?
      Kat. Madame, this Gloue


       Qu. Did he not send you twaine?
      Kat. Yes Madame: and moreouer,
    Some thousand Verses of a faithfull Louer.
    A huge translation of hypocrisie,
    Vildly compiled, profound simplicitie


       Mar. This, and these Pearls, to me sent Longauile.
    The Letter is too long by halfe a mile


       Qu. I thinke no lesse: Dost thou wish in heart
    The Chaine were longer, and the Letter short


       Mar. I, or I would these hands might neuer part


       Quee. We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so


       Ros. They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so.
    That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe.
    O that I knew he were but in by th' weeke,
    How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke,
    And wait the season, and obserue the times,
    And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes,
    And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice,
    And make him proud to make me proud that iests.
    So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state,
    That he shold be my foole, and I his fate


       Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht,
    As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:
    Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole,
    And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole?
      Ros. The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse,
    As grauities reuolt to wantons be


       Mar. Follie in Fooles beares not so strong a note,
    As fool'ry in the Wise, when Wit doth dote:
    Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
    To proue by Wit, worth in simplicitie.
    Enter Boyet.


      Qu. Heere comes Boyet, and mirth in his face


       Boy. O I am stab'd with laughter, Wher's her Grace?
      Qu. Thy newes Boyet?
      Boy. Prepare Madame, prepare.
    Arme Wenches arme, incounters mounted are,
    Against your Peace, Loue doth approach, disguis'd:
    Armed in arguments, you'll be surpriz'd.
    Muster your Wits, stand in your owne defence,
    Or hide your heads like Cowards, and flie hence


       Qu. Saint Dennis to S[aint]. Cupid: What are they,
    That charge their breath against vs? Say scout say


       Boy. Vnder the coole shade of a Siccamore,
    I thought to close mine eyes some halfe an houre:
    When lo to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
    Toward that shade I might behold addrest,
    The King and his companions: warely
    I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
    And ouer-heard, what you shall ouer-heare:
    That by and by disguis'd they will be heere.
    Their Herald is a pretty knauish Page:
    That well by heart hath con'd his embassage,
    Action and accent did they teach him there.
    Thus must thou speake, and thus thy body beare.
    And euer and anon they made a doubt,
    Presence maiesticall would put him out:
    For quoth the King, an Angell shalt thou see:
    Yet feare not thou, but speake audaciously.
    The Boy reply'd, An Angell is not euill:
    I should haue fear'd her, had she beene a deuill.
    With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
    Making the bold wagg by their praises bolder.
    One rub'd his elboe thus, and fleer'd, and swore,
    A better speech was neuer spoke before.
    Another with his finger and his thumb,
    Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come.
    The third he caper'd and cried, All goes well.
    The fourth turn'd on the toe, and downe he fell:
    With that they all did tumble on the ground,
    With such a zelous laughter so profound,
    That in this spleene ridiculous appeares,
    To checke their folly passions solemne teares


       Que. But what, but what, come they to visit vs?
      Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,
    Like Muscouites; or Russians, as I gesse.
    Their purpose is to parlee, to court, and dance,
    And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance,
    Vnto his seuerall mistresse: which they'll know
    By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow


       Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt:
    For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt,
    And not a man of them shall haue the grace
    Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face.
    Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare,
    And then the King will court thee for his Deare:
    Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine,
    So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
    And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues
    Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues


       Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight


       Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent?
      Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs:
    They doe it but in mocking merriment,
    And mocke for mocke is onely my intent.
    Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall,
    To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall.
    Vpon the next occasion that we meete,
    With Visages displayd to talke and greete


       Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't?
      Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot,
    Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace:
    But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face


       Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart,
    And quite diuorce his memory from his part


       Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt,
    The rest will ere come in, if he be out.
    Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne:
    To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne.
    So shall we stay mocking entended game,
    And they well mockt, depart away with shame.


    Sound.


      Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers
    come.
    Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the
    rest of
    the Lords disguised.


      Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth


       Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata


       Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd
    their backes to mortall viewes.


    The Ladies turne their backes to him.


      Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes


       Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes.
    Out
      Boy. True, out indeed


       Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe
    Not to beholde


       Ber. Once to behold, rogue


       Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes,
    With your Sunne beamed eyes


       Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite,
    you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes


       Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out


       Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue


       Rosa. What would these strangers?
    Know their mindes Boyet.
    If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will
    That some plaine man recount their purposes.
    Know what they would?
      Boyet. What would you with the Princes?
      Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation


       Ros. What would they, say they?
      Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation


       Rosa. Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon


       Boy. She saies you haue it, and you may be gon


       Kin. Say to her we haue measur'd many miles,
    To tread a Measure with you on the grasse


       Boy. They say that they haue measur'd many a mile,
    To tread a Measure with you on this grasse


       Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches
    Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie,
    The measure then of one is easlie told


       Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles,
    And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell,
    How many inches doth fill vp one mile?
      Ber. Tell her we measure them by weary steps


       Boy. She heares her selfe


       Rosa. How manie wearie steps,
    Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone,
    Are numbred in the trauell of one mile?
      Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you,
    Our dutie is so rich, so infinite,
    That we may doe it still without accompt.
    Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of your face,
    That we (like sauages) may worship it


       Rosa. My face is but a Moone and clouded too


       Kin. Blessed are clouds, to doe as such clouds do.
    Vouchsafe bright Moone, and these thy stars to shine,
    (Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne


       Rosa. O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter,
    Thou now requests but Mooneshine in the water


       Kin. Then in our measure, vouchsafe but one change.
    Thou bidst me begge, this begging is not strange


       Rosa. Play musicke then: nay you must doe it soone.
    Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moone


       Kin. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
      Rosa. You tooke the Moone at full, but now shee's
    changed?
      Kin. Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man


       Rosa. The musick playes, vouchsafe some motion to
    it: Our eares vouchsafe it


       Kin. But your legges should doe it


       Ros. Since you are strangers, &come here by chance,
    Wee'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance


       Kin. Why take you hands then?
      Rosa. Onelie to part friends.
    Curtsie sweet hearts, and so the Measure ends


       Kin. More measure of this measure, be not nice


       Rosa. We can afford no more at such a price


       Kin. Prise your selues: What buyes your companie?
      Rosa. Your absence onelie


       Kin. That can neuer be


       Rosa. Then cannot we be bought: and so adue,
    Twice to your Visore, and halfe once to you


       Kin. If you denie to dance, let's hold more chat


       Ros. In priuate then


       Kin. I am best pleas'd with that


       Be. White handed Mistris, one sweet word with thee


       Qu. Hony, and Milke, and Suger: there is three


       Ber. Nay then two treyes, an if you grow so nice
    Methegline, Wort, and Malmsey; well runne dice:
    There's halfe a dozen sweets


       Qu. Seuenth sweet adue, since you can cogg,
    Ile play no more with you


       Ber. One word in secret


       Qu. Let it not be sweet


       Ber. Thou greeu'st my gall


       Qu. Gall, bitter


       Ber. Therefore meete


       Du. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
      Mar. Name it


       Dum. Faire Ladie:
      Mar. Say you so? Faire Lord:
    Take you that for your faire Lady


       Du. Please it you,
    As much in priuate, and Ile bid adieu


       Mar. What, was your vizard made without a tong?
      Long. I know the reason Ladie why you aske


       Mar. O for your reason, quickly sir, I long


       Long. You haue a double tongue within your mask,
    And would affoord my speechlesse vizard halfe


       Mar. Veale quoth the Dutch-man: is not Veale a
    Calfe?
      Long. A Calfe faire Ladie?
      Mar. No, a faire Lord Calfe


       Long. Let's part the word


       Mar. No, Ile not be your halfe:
    Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe


       Long. Looke how you but your selfe in these sharpe
    mockes.
    Will you giue hornes chast Ladie? Do not so


       Mar. Then die a Calfe before your horns do grow


       Lon. One word in priuate with you ere I die


       Mar. Bleat softly then, the Butcher heares you cry


       Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
    As is the Razors edge, inuisible:
    Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene,
    Aboue the sense of sence so sensible:
    Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings,
    Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things
      Rosa. Not one word more my maides, breake off,
    breake off


       Ber. By heauen, all drie beaten with pure scoffe


       King. Farewell madde Wenches, you haue simple
    wits.


    Exeunt.


      Qu. Twentie adieus my frozen Muscouits.
    Are these the breed of wits so wondred at?
      Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweete breathes
    puft out


       Rosa. Wel-liking wits they haue, grosse, grosse, fat, fat


       Qu. O pouertie in wit, Kingly poore flout.
    Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night?
    Or euer but in vizards shew their faces:
    This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite


       Rosa. They were all in lamentable cases.
    The King was weeping ripe for a good word


       Qu. Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite


       Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword:
    No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute


       Ka. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
    And trow you what he call'd me?
      Qu. Qualme perhaps


       Kat. Yes in good faith


       Qu. Go sicknesse as thou art


       Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps,
    But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne


       Qu. And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me


       Kat. And Longauill was for my seruice borne


       Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree


       Boyet. Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare,
    Immediately they will againe be heere
    In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
    They will digest this harsh indignitie


       Qu. Will they returne?
      Boy. They will they will, God knowes,
    And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
    Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
    Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire


       Qu. How blow? how blow? Speake to bee vnderstood


       Boy. Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud:
    Dismaskt, their damaske sweet commixture showne,
    Are Angels vailing clouds, or Roses blowne


       Qu. Auant perplexitie: What shall we do,
    If they returne in their owne shapes to wo?
      Rosa. Good Madam, if by me you'l be aduis'd.
    Let's mocke them still as well knowne as disguis'd:
    Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare,
    Disguis'd like Muscouites in shapelesse geare:
    And wonder what they were, and to what end
    Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildely pen'd:
    And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
    Should be presented at our Tent to vs


       Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand


       Quee. Whip to our Tents, as Roes runnes ore Land.


    Exeunt.


    Enter the King and the rest.


      King. Faire sir, God saue you. Wher's the Princesse?
      Boy. Gone to her Tent.
    Please it your Maiestie command me any seruice to her?
      King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word


       Boy. I will, and so will she, I know my Lord.
    Enter.


      Ber. This fellow pickes vp wit as Pigeons pease,
    And vtters it againe, when Ioue doth please.
    He is Wits Pedler, and retailes his Wares,
    At Wakes, and Wassels, Meetings, Markets, Faires.
    And we that sell by grosse, the Lord doth know,
    Haue not the grace to grace it with such show.
    This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue.
    Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eue.
    He can carue too, and lispe: Why this is he,
    That kist away his hand in courtesie.
    This is the Ape of Forme, Monsieur the nice,
    That when he plaies at Tables, chides the Dice
    In honorable tearmes: Nay he can sing
    A meane most meanly, and in Vshering
    Mend him who can: the Ladies call him sweete.
    The staires as he treads on them kisse his feete.
    This is the flower that smiles on euerie one,
    To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone.
    And consciences that wil not die in debt,
    Pay him the dutie of honie-tongued Boyet


       King. A blister on his sweet tongue with my hart,
    That put Armathoes Page out of his part.
    Enter the Ladies.


      Ber. See where it comes. Behauiour what wer't thou,
    Till this madman shew'd thee? And what art thou now?
      King. All haile sweet Madame, and faire time of day


       Qu. Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceiue


       King. Construe my speeches better, if you may


       Qu. Then wish me better, I wil giue you leaue


       King. We came to visit you, and purpose now
    To leade you to our Court, vouchsafe it then


       Qu. This field shal hold me, and so hold your vow:
    Nor God, nor I, delights in periur'd men


       King. Rebuke me not for that which you prouoke:
    The vertue of your eie must breake my oth


       Q. You nickname vertue: vice you should haue spoke:
    For vertues office neuer breakes men troth.
    Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
    As the vnsallied Lilly, I protest,
    A world of torments though I should endure,
    I would not yeeld to be your houses guest:
    So much I hate a breaking cause to be
    Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie


       Kin. O you haue liu'd in desolation heere,
    Vnseene, vnuisited, much to our shame


       Qu. Not so my Lord, it is not so I sweare,
    We haue had pastimes heere, and pleasant game,
    A messe of Russians left vs but of late


       Kin. How Madam? Russians?
      Qu. I in truth, my Lord.
    Trim gallants, full of Courtship and of state


       Rosa. Madam speake true. It is not so my Lord:
    My Ladie (to the manner of the daies)
    In curtesie giues vndeseruing praise.
    We foure indeed confronted were with foure
    In Russia habit: Heere they stayed an houre,
    And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord)
    They did not blesse vs with one happy word.
    I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke,
    When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke


       Ber. This iest is drie to me. Gentle sweete,
    Your wits makes wise things foolish when we greete
    With eies best seeing, heauens fierie eie:
    By light we loose light; your capacitie
    Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore,
    Wise things seeme foolish, and rich things but poore


       Ros. This proues you wise and rich: for in my eie
      Ber. I am a foole, and full of pouertie


       Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
    It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue


       Ber. O, I am yours, and all that I possesse


       Ros. All the foole mine


       Ber. I cannot giue you lesse


       Ros. Which of the Vizards what it that you wore?
      Ber. Where? when? What Vizard?
    Why demand you this?
      Ros. There, then, that vizard, that superfluous case,
    That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face


       Kin. We are discried,
    They'l mocke vs now downeright


       Du. Let vs confesse, and turne it to a iest


       Que. Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes
    sadde?
      Rosa. Helpe hold his browes, hee'l sound: why looke
    you pale?
    Sea-sicke I thinke comming from Muscouie


       Ber. Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury.
    Can any face of brasse hold longer out?
    Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me,
    Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout.
    Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance.
    Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
    And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,
    Nor neuer more in Russian habit waite.
    O! neuer will I trust to speeches pen'd,
    Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue.
    Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend,
    Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue,
    Taffata phrases, silken tearmes precise,
    Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection;
    Figures pedanticall, these summer flies,
    Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation.
    I do forsweare them, and I heere protest,
    By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows)
    Henceforth my woing minde shall be exprest
    In russet yeas, and honest kersie noes.
    And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law,
    My loue to thee is sound, sans cracke or flaw,
      Rosa. Sans, sans, I pray you


       Ber. Yet I haue a tricke
    Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke.
    Ile leaue it by degrees: soft, let vs see,
    Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three,
    They are infected, in their hearts it lies:
    They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
    These Lords are visited, you are not free:
    For the Lords tokens on you do I see


       Qu. No, they are free that gaue these tokens to vs


       Ber. Our states are forfeit, seeke not to vndo vs


       Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true,
    That you stand forfeit, being those that sue


       Ber. Peace, for I will not haue to do with you


       Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend


       Ber. Speake for your selues, my wit is at an end


       King. Teach vs sweete Madame, for our rude transgression,
    some faire excuse


       Qu. The fairest is confession.
    Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd?
      Kin. Madam, I was


       Qu. And were you well aduis'd?
      Kin. I was faire Madam


       Qu. When you then were heere,
    What did you whisper in your Ladies eare?
      King. That more then all the world I did respect her
      Qu. When shee shall challenge this, you will reiect
    her


       King. Vpon mine Honor no


       Qu. Peace, peace, forbeare:
    Your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare


       King. Despise me when I breake this oath of mine


       Qu. I will, and therefore keepe it. Rosaline,
    What did the Russian whisper in your eare?
      Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me deare
    As precious eye-sight, and did value me
    Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer,
    That he would Wed me, or else die my Louer


       Qu. God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord
    Most honorably doth vphold his word


       King. What meane you Madame?
    By my life, my troth
    I neuer swore this Ladie such an oth


       Ros. By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine,
    You gaue me this: But take it sir againe


       King. My faith and this, the Princesse I did giue,
    I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue


       Qu. Pardon me sir, this Iewell did she weare.
    And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare.
    What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe?
      Ber. Neither of either, I remit both twaine.
    I see the tricke on't: Heere was a consent,
    Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
    To dash it like a Christmas Comedie.
    Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Zanie,
    Some mumble-newes, some trencher-knight, som Dick
    That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick
    To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd;
    Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
    The Ladies did change Fauours; and then we
    Following the signes, woo'd but the signe of she.
    Now to our periurie, to adde more terror,
    We are againe forsworne in will and error.
    Much vpon this tis: and might not you
    Forestall our sport, to make vs thus vntrue?
    Do not you know my Ladies foot by'th squier?
    And laugh vpon the apple of her eie?
    And stand betweene her backe sir, and the fire,
    Holding a trencher, iesting merrilie?
    You put our Page out: go, you are alowd.
    Die when you will, a smocke shall be your shrowd.
    You leere vpon me, do you? There's an eie
    Wounds like a Leaden sword


       Boy. Full merrily hath this braue manager, this carreere
    bene run


       Ber. Loe, he is tilting straight. Peace, I haue don.
    Enter Clowne.


    Welcome pure wit, thou part'st a faire fray


       Clo. O Lord sir, they would kno,
    Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no


       Ber. What, are there but three?
      Clo. No sir, but it is vara fine,
    For euerie one pursents three


       Ber. And three times thrice is nine


       Clo. Not so sir, vnder correction sir, I hope it is not so.
    You cannot beg vs sir, I can assure you sir, we know what
    we know: I hope sir three times thrice sir


       Ber. Is not nine


       Clo. Vnder correction sir, wee know where-vntill it
    doth amount


       Ber. By Ioue, I alwaies tooke three threes for nine


       Clow. O Lord sir, it were pittie you should get your
    liuing by reckning sir


       Ber. How much is it?
      Clo. O Lord sir, the parties themselues, the actors sir
    will shew where-vntill it doth amount: for mine owne
    part, I am (as they say, but to perfect one man in one
    poore man) Pompion the great sir


       Ber. Art thou one of the Worthies?
      Clo. It pleased them to thinke me worthie of Pompey
    the great: for mine owne part, I know not the degree of
    the Worthie, but I am to stand for him


       Ber. Go, bid them prepare.
    Enter.


      Clo. We will turne it finely off sir, we wil take some
    care


       King. Berowne, they will shame vs:
    Let them not approach


       Ber. We are shame-proofe my Lord: and 'tis some
    policie, to haue one shew worse then the Kings and his
    companie


       Kin. I say they shall not come


       Qu. Nay my good Lord, let me ore-rule you now;
    That sport best pleases, that doth least know how.
    Where Zeale striues to content, and the contents
    Dies in the Zeale of that which it presents:
    Their forme confounded, makes most forme in mirth,
    When great things labouring perish in their birth


       Ber. A right description of our sport my Lord.
    Enter Braggart.


      Brag. Annointed, I implore so much expence of thy
    royall sweet breath, as will vtter a brace of words


       Qu. Doth this man serue God?
      Ber. Why aske you?
      Qu. He speak's not like a man of God's making


       Brag. That's all one my faire sweet honie Monarch:
    For I protest, the Schoolmaster is exceeding fantasticall:
    Too too vaine, too too vaine. But we wil put it (as they
    say) to Fortuna delaguar, I wish you the peace of minde
    most royall cupplement


       King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies;
    He presents Hector of Troy, the Swaine Pompey y great,
    the Parish Curate Alexander, Armadoes Page Hercules,
    the Pedant Iudas Machabeus: and if these foure Worthies
    in their first shew thriue, these foure will change
    habites, and present the other fiue


       Ber. There is fiue in the first shew


       Kin. You are deceiued, tis not so


       Ber. The Pedant, the Braggart, the Hedge-Priest, the
    Foole, and the Boy,
    Abate throw at Novum, and the whole world againe,
    Cannot pricke out fiue such, take each one in's vaine


       Kin. The ship is vnder saile, and here she coms amain.
    Enter Pompey.


      Clo. I Pompey am


       Ber. You lie, you are not he


       Clo. I Pompey am


       Boy. With Libbards head on knee


       Ber. Well said old mocker,
    I must needs be friends with thee


       Clo. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big


       Du. The great


       Clo. It is great sir: Pompey surnam'd the great:
    That oft in field, with Targe and Shield,
    did make my foe to sweat:
    And trauailing along this coast, I heere am come by chance,
    And lay my Armes before the legs of this sweet Lasse of
    France.
    If your Ladiship would say thankes Pompey, I had done


       La. Great thankes great Pompey


       Clo. Tis not so much worth: but I hope I was perfect.
    I made a little fault in great


       Ber. My hat to a halfe-penie, Pompey prooues the
    best Worthie.
    Enter Curate for Alexander.


      Curat. When in the world I liu'd, I was the worldes Commander:
    By East, West, North, &South, I spred my conquering might
    My Scutcheon plaine declares that I am Alisander


       Boiet. Your nose saies no, you are not:
    For it stands too right


       Ber. Your nose smells no, in this most tender smelling
    Knight


       Qu. The Conqueror is dismaid:
    Proceede good Alexander


       Cur. When in the world I liued, I was the worldes Commander


       Boiet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so Alisander


       Ber. Pompey the great


       Clo. your seruant and Costard


       Ber. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alisander
      Clo. O sir, you haue ouerthrowne Alisander the conqueror:
    you will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth for
    this: your Lion that holds his Pollax sitting on a close
    stoole, will be giuen to Aiax. He will be the ninth worthie.
    A Conqueror, and affraid to speake? Runne away
    for shame Alisander. There an't shall please you: a foolish
    milde man, an honest man, looke you, &soon dasht.
    He is a maruellous good neighbour insooth, and a verie
    good Bowler: but for Alisander, alas you see, how 'tis a
    little ore-parted. But there are Worthies a comming,
    will speake their minde in some other sort.


    Exit Cu.


      Qu. Stand aside good Pompey.
    Enter Pedant for Iudas, and the Boy for Hercules.


      Ped. Great Hercules is presented by this Impe,
    Whose Club kil'd Cerberus that three-headed Canus,
    And when he was a babe, a childe, a shrimpe,
    Thus did he strangle Serpents in his Manus:
    Quoniam, he seemeth in minoritie,
    Ergo, I come with this Apologie.
    Keepe some state in thy exit, and vanish.


    Exit Boy


      Ped. Iudas I am


       Dum. A Iudas?
      Ped. Not Iscariot sir.
    Iudas I am, ycliped Machabeus


       Dum. Iudas Machabeus clipt, is plaine Iudas


       Ber. A kissing traitor. How art thou prou'd Iudas?
      Ped. Iudas I am


       Dum. The more shame for you Iudas


       Ped. What meane you sir?
      Boi. To make Iudas hang himselfe


       Ped. Begin sir, you are my elder


       Ber. Well follow'd, Iudas was hang'd on an Elder


       Ped. I will not be put out of countenance


       Ber. Because thou hast no face


       Ped. What is this?
      Boi. A Citterne head


       Dum. The head of a bodkin


       Ber. A deaths face in a ring


       Lon. The face of an old Roman coine, scarce seene


       Boi. The pummell of Cæsars Faulchion


       Dum. The caru'd-bone face on a Flaske


       Ber. S[aint]. Georges halfe cheeke in a brooch


       Dum. I, and in a brooch of Lead


       Ber. I, and worne in the cap of a Tooth-drawer.
    And now forward, for we haue put thee in countenance
      Ped. You haue put me out of countenance


       Ber. False, we haue giuen thee faces


       Ped. But you haue out-fac'd them all


       Ber. And thou wer't a Lion, we would do so


       Boy. Therefore as he is, an Asse, let him go:
    And so adieu sweet Iude. Nay, why dost thou stay?
      Dum. For the latter end of his name


       Ber. For the Asse to the Iude: giue it him. Iudas away


       Ped. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble


       Boy. A light for monsieur Iudas, it growes darke, he
    may stumble


       Que. Alas poore Machabeus, how hath hee beene
    baited.
    Enter Braggart.


      Ber. Hide thy head Achilles, heere comes Hector in
    Armes


       Dum. Though my mockes come home by me, I will
    now be merrie


       King. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this


       Boi. But is this Hector?
      Kin. I thinke Hector was not so cleane timber'd


       Lon. His legge is too big for Hector


       Dum. More Calfe certaine


       Boi. No, he is best indued in the small


       Ber. This cannot be Hector


       Dum. He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces


       Brag. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty,
    gaue Hector a gift


       Dum. A gilt Nutmegge


       Ber. A Lemmon


       Lon. Stucke with Cloues


       Dum. No clouen


       Brag. The Armipotent Mars of Launces the almighty,
    Gaue Hector a gift, the heire of Illion;
    A man so breathed, that certaine he would fight: yea
    From morne till night, out of his Pauillion.
    I am that Flower


       Dum. That Mint


       Long. That Cullambine


       Brag. Sweet Lord Longauill reine thy tongue


       Lon. I must rather giue it the reine: for it runnes against
    Hector


       Dum. I, and Hector's a Grey-hound


       Brag. The sweet War-man is dead and rotten,
    Sweet chuckes, beat not the bones of the buried:
    But I will forward with my deuice;
    Sweete Royaltie bestow on me the sence of hearing.


    Berowne steppes forth.


      Qu. Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted


       Brag. i do adore thy sweet Graces slipper


       Boy. Loues her by the foot


       Dum. He may not by the yard


       Brag. This Hector farre surmounted Hanniball.
    The partie is gone


       Clo. Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two moneths
    on her way


       Brag. What meanest thou?
      Clo. Faith vnlesse you play the honest Troyan, the
    poore Wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags
    in her belly alreadie: tis yours


       Brag. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates?
    Thou shalt die


       Clo. Then shall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta that
    is quicke by him, and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead by
    him


       Dum. Most rare Pompey


       Boi. Renowned Pompey


       Ber. Greater then great, great, great, great Pompey:
    Pompey the huge


       Dum. Hector trembles


       Ber. Pompey is moued, more Atees more Atees stirre
    them, or stirre them on


       Dum. Hector will challenge him


       Ber. I, if a'haue no more mans blood in's belly, then
    will sup a Flea


       Brag. By the North-pole I do challenge thee


       Clo. I wil not fight with a pole like a Northern man;
    Ile slash, Ile do it by the sword: I pray you let mee borrow
    my Armes againe


       Dum. Roome for the incensed Worthies


       Clo. Ile do it in my shirt


       Dum. Most resolute Pompey


       Page. Master, let me take you a button hole lower:
    Do you not see Pompey is vncasing for the combat: what
    meane you? you will lose your reputation


       Brag. Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will
    not combat in my shirt


       Du. You may not denie it, Pompey hath made the
    challenge


       Brag. Sweet bloods, I both may, and will


       Ber. What reason haue you for't?
      Brag. The naked truth of it is, I haue no shirt,
    I go woolward for penance


       Boy. True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want
    of Linnen: since when, Ile be sworne he wore none, but
    a dishclout of Iaquenettas, and that hee weares next his
    heart for a fauour.
    Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.


      Mar. God saue you Madame


       Qu. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruptest
    our merriment


       Marc. I am sorrie Madam, for the newes I bring is
    heauie in my tongue. The King your father
      Qu. Dead for my life


       Mar. Euen so: My tale is told


       Ber. Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud


       Brag. For mine owne part, I breath free breath: I
    haue seene the day of wrong, through the little hole of
    discretion, and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.


    Exeunt. Worthies


      Kin. How fare's your Maiestie?
      Qu. Boyet prepare, I will away to night


       Kin. Madame not so, I do beseech you stay


       Qu. Prepare I say. I thanke you gracious Lords
    For all your faire endeuours and entreats:
    Out of a new sad-soule, that you vouchsafe,
    In your rich wisedome to excuse, or hide,
    The liberall opposition of our spirits,
    If ouer-boldly we haue borne our selues,
    In the conuerse of breath (your gentlenesse
    Was guiltie of it.) Farewell worthie Lord:
    A heauie heart beares not a humble tongue.
    Excuse me so, comming so short of thankes,
    For my great suite, so easily obtain'd


       Kin. The extreme parts of time, extremelie formes
    All causes to the purpose of his speed:
    And often at his verie loose decides
    That, which long processe could not arbitrate.
    And though the mourning brow of progenie
    Forbid the smiling curtesie of Loue:
    The holy suite which faine it would conuince,
    Yet since loues argument was first on foote,
    Let not the cloud of sorrow iustle it
    From what it purpos'd: since to waile friends lost,
    Is not by much so wholsome profitable,
    As to reioyce at friends but newly found


       Qu. I vnderstand you not, my greefes are double


       Ber. Honest plain words, best pierce the ears of griefe
    And by these badges vnderstand the King,
    For your faire sakes haue we neglected time,
    Plaid foule play with our oaths: your beautie Ladies
    Hath much deformed vs, fashioning our humors
    Euen to the opposed end of our intents.
    And what in vs hath seem'd ridiculous:
    As Loue is full of vnbefitting straines,
    All wanton as a childe, skipping and vaine.
    Form'd by the eie, and therefore like the eie.
    Full of straying shapes, of habits, and of formes
    Varying in subiects as the eie doth roule,
    To euerie varied obiect in his glance:
    Which partie-coated presence of loose loue
    Put on by vs, if in your heauenly eies,
    Haue misbecom'd our oathes and grauities.
    Those heauenlie eies that looke into these faults,
    Suggested vs to make: therefore Ladies
    Our loue being yours, the error that Loue makes
    Is likewise yours. We to our selues proue false,
    By being once false, for euer to be true
    To those that make vs both, faire Ladies you.
    And euen that falshood in it selfe a sinne,
    Thus purifies it selfe, and turnes to grace


       Qu. We haue receiu'd your Letters, full of Loue:
    Your Fauours, the Ambassadors of Loue.
    And in our maiden counsaile rated them,
    At courtship, pleasant iest, and curtesie,
    As bumbast and as lining to the time:
    But more deuout then these are our respects
    Haue we not bene, and therefore met your loues
    In their owne fashion, like a merriment


       Du. Our letters Madam, shew'd much more then iest


       Lon. So did our lookes


       Rosa. We did not coat them so


       Kin. Now at the latest minute of the houre,
    Grant vs your loues


       Qu. A time me thinkes too short,
    To make a world-without-end bargaine in:
    No, no my Lord, your Grace is periur'd much,
    Full of deare guiltinesse, and therefore this:
    If for my Loue (as there is no such cause)
    You will do ought, this shall you do for me.
    Your oth I will not trust: but go with speed
    To some forlorne and naked Hermitage,
    Remote from all the pleasures of the world:
    There stay, vntill the twelue Celestiall Signes
    Haue brought about their annuall reckoning.
    If this austere insociable life,
    Change not your offer made in heate of blood:
    If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
    Nip not the gaudie blossomes of your Loue,
    But that it beare this triall, and last loue:
    Then at the expiration of the yeare,
    Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
    And by this Virgin palme, now kissing thine,
    I will be thine: and till that instant shut
    My wofull selfe vp in a mourning house,
    Raining the teares of lamentation,
    For the remembrance of my Fathers death.
    If this thou do denie, let our hands part,
    Neither intitled in the others hart


       Kin. If this, or more then this, I would denie,
    To flatter vp these powers of mine with rest,
    The sodaine hand of death close vp mine eie.
    Hence euer then, my heart is in thy brest


       Ber. And what to me my Loue? and what to me?
      Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd.
    You are attaint with faults and periurie:
    Therefore if you my fauor meane to get,
    A tweluemonth shall you spend, and neuer rest,
    But seeke the wearie beds of people sicke


       Du. But what to me my loue? but what to me?
      Kat. A wife? a beard, faire health, and honestie,
    With three-fold loue, I wish you all these three


       Du. O shall I say, I thanke you gentle wife?
      Kat. Not so my Lord, a tweluemonth and a day,
    Ile marke no words that smoothfac'd wooers say.
    Come when the King doth to my Ladie come:
    Then if I haue much loue, Ile giue you some


       Dum. Ile serue thee true and faithfully till then


       Kath. Yet sweare not, least ye be forsworne agen


       Lon. What saies Maria?
      Mari. At the tweluemonths end,
    Ile change my blacke Gowne, for a faithfull friend


       Lon. Ile stay with patience: but the time is long


       Mari. The liker you, few taller are so yong


       Ber. Studies my Ladie? Mistresse, looke on me,
    Behold the window of my heart, mine eie:
    What humble suite attends thy answer there,
    Impose some seruice on me for my loue


       Ros. Oft haue I heard of you my Lord Berowne,
    Before I saw you: and the worlds large tongue
    Proclaimes you for a man repleate with mockes,
    Full of comparisons, and wounding floutes:
    Which you on all estates will execute,
    That lie within the mercie of your wit.
    To weed this Wormewood from your fruitfull braine,
    And therewithall to win me, if you please,
    Without the which I am not to be won:
    You shall this tweluemonth terme from day to day,
    Visit the speechlesse sicke, and still conuerse
    With groaning wretches: and your taske shall be,
    With all the fierce endeuour of your wit,
    To enforce the pained impotent to smile


       Ber. To moue wilde laughter in the throate of death?
    It cannot be, it is impossible.
    Mirth cannot moue a soule in agonie


       Ros. Why that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
    Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
    Which shallow laughing hearers giue to fooles:
    A iests prosperitie, lies in the eare
    Of him that heares it, neuer in the tongue
    Of him that makes it: then, if sickly eares,
    Deaft with the clamors of their owne deare grones,
    Will heare your idle scornes; continue then,
    And I will haue you, and that fault withall.
    But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
    And I shal finde you emptie of that fault,
    Right ioyfull of your reformation


       Ber. A tweluemonth? Well: befall what will befall,
    Ile iest a tweluemonth in an Hospitall


       Qu. I sweet my Lord, and so I take my leaue


       King. No Madam, we will bring you on your way


       Ber. Our woing doth not end like an old Play:
    Iacke hath not Gill: these Ladies courtesie
    Might wel haue made our sport a Comedie


       Kin. Come sir, it wants a tweluemonth and a day,
    And then 'twil end


       Ber. That's too long for a play.
    Enter Braggart.


      Brag. Sweet Maiesty vouchsafe me


       Qu. Was not that Hector?
      Dum. The worthie Knight of Troy


       Brag. I wil kisse thy royal finger, and take leaue.
    I am a Votarie, I haue vow'd to Iaquenetta to holde the
    Plough for her sweet loue three yeares. But most esteemed
    greatnesse, wil you heare the Dialogue that the two
    Learned men haue compiled, in praise of the Owle and
    the Cuckow? It should haue followed in the end of our
    shew


       Kin. Call them forth quickely, we will do so


       Brag. Holla, Approach.
    Enter all.


    This side is Hiems, Winter.
    This Ver, the Spring: the one maintained by the Owle,
    Th' other by the Cuckow.
    Ver, begin.


    The Song.


    When Dasies pied, and Violets blew,
    And Cuckow-buds of yellow hew:
    And Ladie-smockes all siluer white,
    Do paint the Medowes with delight.
    The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
    Mockes married men, for thus sings he,
    Cuckow.
    Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
    Vnpleasing to a married eare.
    When Shepheards pipe on Oaten strawes,
    And merrie Larkes are Ploughmens clockes:
    When Turtles tread, and Rookes and Dawes,
    And Maidens bleach their summer smockes:
    The Cuckow then on euerie tree
    Mockes married men; for thus sings he,
    Cuckow.
    Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
    Vnpleasing to a married eare


       Winter. When Isicles hang by the wall,
    And Dicke the Shepheard blowes his naile;
    And Tom beares Logges into the hall,
    And Milke comes frozen home in paile:
    When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,
    Then nightly sings the staring Owle
    Tuwhit towho.
    A merrie note,
    While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.
    When all aloud the winde doth blow,
    And coffing drownes the Parsons saw:
    And birds sit brooding in the snow,
    And Marrians nose lookes red and raw:
    When roasted Crabs hisse in the bowle,
    Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
    Tuwhit towho:
    A merrie note,
    While greasie Ione doth keele the pot


       Brag. The Words of Mercurie,
    Are harsh after the songs of Apollo:
    You that way; we this way.


    Exeunt. omnes.


    FINIS. Loues Labour's lost.