The Dramatic Works

Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men ;
Or for men's sake, the author's of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men;
Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion to be thus forsworn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;
And who can sever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the
field!

Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them,
lords;

Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advis'd,
In conflict that you get the sun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
King. And win them too: therefore let us devise
Some entertainment for them in their tents.

Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them
thither;

Then, homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon

We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Fore-run fair love, strewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away! no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted,
Biron. Allons! Allons !-Sow'd cockle reap'd

no corn;

And justice always whirls in equal measure: Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; If so, our copper buys no better treasure.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I-Another part of the same.
Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.

Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Enter

Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons'

Hol. Bone?-bone, for benè: Priscian a little scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter Armado, Moth, and Costard.

Nath. Videsne quis venit ?
Hol. Video, et gaudeo.
Arm. Chirra!

[To Moth.

Hol. Quare Chirra, not sirrah?
Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd.
Hol. Most military sir, salutation.
Moth. They have been at a great feast of lan
guages, and stolen the scraps. [To Costard aside.

Cost. O, they have lived long in the alms-basket
thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the
of words! I marvel, thy master hath not eaten
swallowed than a flap-dragon.
head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier

Moth. Peace; the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur, [To Hol.] are you not letter'd? Moth, Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook:What is a, b, spelt backward, with a horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

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

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you re peat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.—

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

Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterra neum, a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit: snip, snap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect:

true wit

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

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth, Horns.

Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circùm circà; A gig at dinner have been sharp and sententious; plea-of a cuckold's horn! sant without scurrility, witty without affection, Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, audacious without impudency, learned without thou should'st have it to buy gingerbread: hold, opinion, and strange without heresy. I did con- there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, verse this quondam day with a companion of the thou half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased, that Adriano de Armado.

thou wert but my bastard! what a joyful father
would'st thou make me! Go to; thou hast it ad
dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.
guem.
Hol. O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for un-

Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be singed
from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at
the charge-house on the top of the mountain ?
Hol. Or, mons, the hill.

Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain,
Hol. I do, sans question.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical, He is too picked,4 too spruce, too affected, too odd,| as it were, too perigrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet, [Takes out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise' companions; such rackers of orthography, as to speak, dout, fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; Hol. The posterior of the day, most generous neighbour, vocatur, nebour; neigh, abbreviated, sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the This is abhominable (which he would call afternoon: the word is well cull'd, chose; sweet abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure. intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic.

ne:

Nath. Laus deo, bone intelligo.

Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend :

(6) A small inflammable substance, swallowed in a glass of wine,

(7) A hit,

(8) Free-school,

For what is inward1 between us, let it pass:-I do Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in beseech thee, remember thy courtesy-I beseech rhyme

Ros. That was the way to make his god-head

wax;

For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd
your sister.

thee, apparel thy head; and among other importu- As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, nate and most serious designs,-and of great im- Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all;" port, indeed, too;-but let that pass:-for I must That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name. tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder; and with his royal finger, thus, dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable; some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; seen the world: but let that pass.-The very all of And so she died: had she been light, like you, all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy,-Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, that the king would have me present the princess, She might have been a grandam ere she died: sweet chuck,' with some delightful ostentation, or And so may you; for a light heart lives long. show, or pageant, or antic, or fire-work. Now, Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse," of this understanding that the curate and your sweet self, are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.

light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.
Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

out.

Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some en-Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument. tertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies. Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

Kath. You'll mar the light, by taking it in snuff;'

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark.
Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench.
Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.
Kath. You weigh me not,-0, that's, you care not
for me.

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the great; the page, Hercules.

Arm. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority; his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry well done, Hercules! now thou crusheth the snake! that is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the worthies ?
Hol. I will play three myself.
Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?

Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Via, good man Dull! thou has spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir.
Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away. [Exeunt. SCENE II-Another part of the same. Before the Princess's Pavilion. Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and Maria.

Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care.
Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
But Rosaline, you have a favour too:
Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros.

I would, you knew.
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Birón:
The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too,
were the fairest goddess on the ground;
am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
Prin. Any thing like?

Ros. Much, in the letters; nothing in the praise.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as text B in a copy-book.
Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your
debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter:

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

Kath. A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows! Prin. But what was sent to you from fair Dumain?

Kath. Madam, this glove.

Prin.
Did he not send you twain?
Kath. Yes, madam; and moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.

Mar. This, and these pearls, to me sent Longe
ville;

The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no less: Dost thou not wish in
heart,

The chain were longer, and the letter short?
Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never

part,

Prin. We are wise girls, to mock our lovers so.
Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, That same Birón I'll torture ere I go.

If fairings come thus plentifully in:

A lady walled about with diamonds!-
Look you, what I have from the loving king.
Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that?
(3) Chick.
(6) Grow.

Confidential. (2) Beard.
Suit (5) Courage.

O, that I knew he were but in by the week!
How would I make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes;

(7) Formerly a term of endearment, (8) In anger,

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?

Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.
Prepare, madam, prepare!-
Arm, wenches, arm; encounters mounted are
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,
Arm'd in arguments; you'll be surpris'd:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence."
Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are
they,

That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I though to close mine eyes some half an hour:
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Presence majestical would put him out:
For, quoth the king, an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.
The boy replied, An angel is not evil;
I should have fear'd her, had she been a devil.
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the
shoulder;

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus; and fleer'd, and swore,
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,

Cry'd, Via! we will do't, come what will come :
The third he caper'd, and cried, All goes well:
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,-
Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I
guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance:
And every one his love-feat will advance

Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd:

For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.-

Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear;
And then the king will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine.
So shall Birón take me for Rosaline.-
And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.
Ros. Come on then; wear the favours most in sight.
Kath. But, in this changing, what is your intent?
Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs:
They do it but in mocking merriment;
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal,
Upon the next occasion that we meet,
With visages display'd, to talk, and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't! Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd, the maskers come. The ladies mask.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in Russian habits, and masked; Moth, musicians, and attendants.

Moth. All hail! the richest beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

The ladies turn their backs to him.

That ever turn'd their-backs-to mortal views!
Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
Out-

Boyet. True; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe

Not to behold

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.

Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,with your sun-beamed eyes

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it, daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out.

Biron. Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue.

Ros. What would these strangers? know their

minds, Boyet:

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

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be

gone.

Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be gone.
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many
a mile,

To tread a measure with you on this grass.
Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches

Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many,
The measure then of one is easily told.

Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur'd miles,
And many miles; the princess bids you tell,
How many inches do fill up one mile.

Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
Boyet. She hears herself.
Ros.

How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?

Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you, Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

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

Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds remov'd,) upon our wat'ry eyne.

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

soon.

Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then: nay, you must do it [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance:-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estrang'd?

Ros. You took the moon at full; but now she's chang'd.

King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Ros. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,

We'll not be nice: take hands;-we will not dance.
King. Why take we hands then?
Ros.
Only to part friends :-
Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Ros. We can afford no more at such a price.
King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your
company?

Ros. Your absence only. King.

That can never be. Ros. Then cannot we be bought: and so adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you! King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. Ros. In private then. King.

I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart. Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.

Biron. Nay then, two treys (an if you grow so nice,)

Metheglin, wort, and malmsey ;-Well run, dice! There's half a dozen sweets.

Prin.

Seventh sweet, adieu! Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. Biron. One word in secret. Prin.

Let it not be sweet. Biron. Thou griev'st my gall.

Prin.

Biron.

Gall? bitter. Therefore meet. [They converse apart.

Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a

word?

Say you so? Fair lord,Please it you,

Take that for your fair lady.
Dum.

As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.

[They converse apart. Kath. What, was your visor made without a tongue?

Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
Kath. O, for your reason? quickly, sir; I long.
Long. You have a double tongue within your
mask,

And would afford my speechless visor half.
Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman ;-Is not veal
a cali?
Long. A calf, fair lady?
Kath.

No, a fair lord calf.
Long. Let's part the word.
Kath.

No, I'll not be your half:
Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.
Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these
sharp mocks!

Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.
Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
Long. One word in private with you, ere I dic.
Kath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you
[They converse apart.

cry.

Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;

Above the sense of sense: so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,

Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

[Exeunt King, Lords, Moth, music, and attendants. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross fat, fat.

Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night? Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Birón was out of countenance quite. Ros. O they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Prin. Birón did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No point, quochI: my servant straight was mute. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin.

Kath. Yes, in good faith. Prin.

Qualm, perhaps.

Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statutecaps.

But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. Prin. And quick Birón hath plighted faith to me. Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mur. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here

(3) Better wits may be found among citizens.

In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore, change favours; and when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in the summer air.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.

Boyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels veiling clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?

Ros. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disguis'd: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless? gear; And wonder what they were; and to what end Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd, And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us.

Boyel. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand.

Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt Princess, Ros. Kath. and Maria.

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

King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the princess?

Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither? King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one

word.

Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. [Exit. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons

peas;

And utters it again when God doth please:
He is wit's pedlar; and retails his wares
At wakes, and wassels,' meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve:
He can carve too, and lisp: Why, this is he,
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
That when he plays at tables, chides the dice,
In honourable terms! nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly; and, in ushering,
Mend him who can: the ladies call him, sweet;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To show his teeth as white as whale's bone:5
And consciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,

That put Armado's page out of his part!
Enter the Princess, usher'd by Boyet; Rosaline,
Maria, Katharine, and attendants.

Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what wert thou,

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now? King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of

day!

King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave. King. We came to visit you; and purpose now To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your

VOW:

Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke ;

The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied lily, I protest,

A world of torments though I should endure,

I would not yield to be your house's guest; So much I hate a breaking cause to be Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity. King. O, you have liv'd in desolation here, Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear. We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game; A mess of Russians left us but of late. King. How, madam? Russians?

Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state. Ros. Madam, speak true :-It is not so, my lord; My lady (to the manner of the days,) In courtesy, gives undeserving praise. We four, indeed, confronted here with four In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. Biron. This jest is dry to me-Fair, gentle

sweet,

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

eye,

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

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

Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they'll mock us now

downright.

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

Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.

Can any face of brass hold longer out?Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me;

Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;

(5) The tooth of the horse-whale.
(6) After the fashion of the times.

« Previous Continue »

Books

The Dramatic Works, Volume 1