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Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.

Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,)
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid

A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,

One part of Aquitain is bound to us,

Although not valued to the money's worth.

If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,

We will give up our right in Aquitain,

And hold fair friendship with his majesty.

But that, it seems, he little purposeth,

For here he doth demand to have repaid

An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,

On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,

To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,

And have the money by our father lent,

Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far

From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong,

And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin.

Satisfy me so.

We arrest your word :Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father. King. [come, Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not Where that and other specialties are bound; To-morrow you shall have a sight of them. King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto. Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, As honour, without breach of honour, may Make tender of to thy true worthiness: You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so receiv'd, As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: To-morrow shall we visit you again. [grace! Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.

Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physick says, I.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

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Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.

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

name.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit Long.
Biron. What's her name, in the cap?

Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu !

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet.
And every jest but a word.
Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his

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[retire

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed :
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
Who, tendering their own worth, from where they
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Čome, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd-
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye
hath disclos'd:

I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st

skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.

Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her
father is but grim.
Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?
No.

Mar.
Boyet.
What then, do you see?
Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.
Boyet.
You are too hard for me.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Another part of the same.

Enter Armado and Moth.

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth. Concolinel

[Singing. Arm. Sweet air '-Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?

Arm. How mean'st thou ? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit ; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are compliments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?
Moth. By my penny of observation.

Arm. But O, but 0

Moth. the hobby-horse is forgot.

Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse?

Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almost I had.

Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart.
Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.

Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three
I will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart you cannot enjoy her.

Arm. I am all these three.

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

Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter.

Moth. A message well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador for an ass!

Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?

Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go. Arm. The way is but short; away.

Moth. As swift as lead, sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? Moth. Minime, honest master; or rather, ter, no.

Re-enter Moth and Costard.

Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,-thy l'envoy-begin.

Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain ; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain ' Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve?

Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?

Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to
make plain
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
I will example it :

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
There's the moral: Now the l'envoy.
Moth. I will add the l'envoy: say the moral again.
Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding four.
Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow
with my l'envoy.

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three :
Arm. Until the goose came out of door,
Staying the odds by adding four.
Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose;
Would you desire more?

that's flat

Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, [fat.Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and

loose :

Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?

Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a Then call'd you for the l'envoy. [shin.

Cost. True, and I for a plantain: Thus came

your argument;

Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;
And he ended the market.

Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin?

Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy.

1, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost. Till there be more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances;-I smell
some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.

Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purmas-gation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing You are too swift, sir, to say so: but this: Bear this significant to the country maid

Arm. I say, lead is slow.
Moth.

Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [giving him [he-money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit. Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, adieu.

Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun?
Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetorick!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's
1 shoot thee at the swain.
Moth.
Thump then, and I flee.
[Exit.
Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free
of grace!

By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy
face:

Most rude melancholy valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd.

Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew! [Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remuneration.-What's the price of this inkle? a penny:-No, I'll give you a remuneration: why, it carries it.-Remuneration !

K 2

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Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Biron. What is a remuneration?

Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing.
Biron. O, why then, three-farthings worth of silk.
Cost. I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is.

Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow
morning.

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. slave, it is but this ;

The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;

Hark,

When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her

name,

Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting

mind.

Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murderer in?
For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot.
Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot.
For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again
say, no?

O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
For. Yes, madam, fair.
Prin.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
[Giving him money.

Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
Prin. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.But come, the bow -Now mercy goes to kill, And shooting well is then accounted ill. Thus will I save my credit in the shoot: Not wounding, pity would not let me do't; And Rosaline they call her ask for her; If wounding, then it was to show my skill, And to her white hand see thou do commend That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill. This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go. And, out of question, so it is sometimes; [Gives him money. Glory grows guilty of detested crimes; Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most We bend to that the working of the heart: sweet guerdon-I will do it, sir, in print.-As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill Guerdon-remuneration.

[Exit.

Biron. O And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;

A very beadle to a humorous sigh;

A critick; nay, a night-watch constable ;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid :
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of cod-pieces,
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting paritors, O my little heart!-
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
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 dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan;
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.

ACT IV.

[Exit.

SCENE I.-Another part of the same.
Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine,
Boyet, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.
Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse
so hard

Against the steep uprising of the hill?

The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sove-

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I am bound to serve.-
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

Prin.

We will read it, I swear: Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. Boyet. [Reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fuirer than fair, beautiful than beauteous; truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (0 base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three.

Who came the king, Why did he come to see :| Why did he see ? to overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar: What saw he? the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd; On whose side? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial: On whose side? The king's ?-no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes: For tittles, titles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry, Don Adriano de Armado.

Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey; Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play : But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den.

Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited this letter? [better? What vane? what weather-cock did you ever hear Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style. [erewhile. Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
To the prince, and his book-mates.
Prin.
Who gave thee this letter?
Cost.

Thou, fellow, a word:
I told you; my lord.
Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it?
Cost.
From my lord to my lady.
Prin. From which lord, to which lady? [mine;
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords,

away.

Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princess and train.
Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor ?
Ros. Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.

Ros.

Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off! [marry, Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on!

Ros. Well then, I am the shooter. Boyet. And who is your deer? Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come Finely put on, indeed![near. Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow. [her now? Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, [Singing.
Thou canst not hit it, my good man."
Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,

An I cannot, another can.

[Exeunt Ros. and Kath. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant! how both did fit it! [both did hit it. Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark; A mark, says my lady! [be. Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at. if it may Mar. Wide o' the bow hand! I'faith your hand

is out.

Cost. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.

Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike your hand is in. [the pin. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul. [lenge her to bowl. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; chalBoyet. I fear too much rubbing; Good night my good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria, Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! [wit! O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Armatho o' the one side,-0, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan! To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will swear!

And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
Sola, sola!

[Shouting within. [Exit Costard, running

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull. Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,blood; ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cælo,-the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,-the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind 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 undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion,-to insert again my haud crede for a deer.

Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus!-0 thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts;

And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be

(Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts that do fructify in us more than he. For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool, [in a school: So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.

Dull. You two are book-men: Can you tell by

your wit,

What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull.

Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam.

was no more ;

And raught not to five weeks, when he came to fivescore.

The allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the ex

change; for the moon is never but a month old:[ and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the princess kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the ignorant, I have called the deer the princess kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility.

wrong,

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, [fire. Which, not to anger bent, is musick, and sweet Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this [tongue! That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidious Naso was the man and why, indeed, Naso; The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of pl asing pricket: [sore with shooting. fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, The dogs did yell; put I to sore, then sorel jumps the tired horse his rider. But damosella virgin, from thicket; [hooting. was this directed to you? Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; O sore L! [more L. Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto:

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; Your Ladyship's in all desired employment, Biron. a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, re- with the king; and here he hath framed a letter volutions these are begot in the ventricle of me- to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accimory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and dentally, or by the way of progression, hath misdeliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the carried.-Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the common

wealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us.

Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.

Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person. Hol. Master person,-quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one?

Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho: I beseech you, read it. Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra

Ruminat, and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan!
I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice:
-Vinegia, Vinegia,

Chi non te vede, ei non te pregia.
Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth
thee not, loves thee not.-Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.-
Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or,
rather, as Horace says in his-What, my soul,

verses ?

Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, domine.

Nath. If love make me fors worn, how shall I swear to love?

paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu.

Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save your life!

Cost. Have with thee, my girl.

Exeunt Cost, and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith

Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses; Did they please you, sir Nathaniel ?

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto where I will prove those verses to be very un learned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society.

Nath. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text,) is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.-Sir, [to Dull.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay: pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Another part of the same.

recreation.

Enter Biron, with a paper.

Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, Set thee down, sorrow! for so they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: [vowed! Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful eye, by this light, but for her eye, I would not prove; [osiers bowed. love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the [commend: fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee sweeter fool, sweetest lady! by the world, I would All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without not care a pin if the other three were in: Here wonder; [admire ;) comes one with a paper; God give him grace to (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts groan. [Gets up into a tree.

Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; [comprehend Where all those pleasures live, that art would If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;

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