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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 star's, to shit (Those clouds removid), upon our wat’ry éyne.

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 or

change: Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, musick, then: nay, you must do it soon

[Musick play Not yet;~no dance:-thus change I like the moor King. Will you not dance? How come you tku

estrang'd? Ros. You took the movu at full; but now she

chang'd. King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The musick plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.

Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it.

But your legs should do it Ros. Since you are straugers, and come here b

chance, We'll not be nice : take hands;-we will not dance

King. Why take we hands then?

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 you

company? Ros. Your absence only. King.

That can never be.

. Ros. Then cannot we be bonght: apd so adieu ; Twice to your visor, and half ouce to you!

King. If you deny to dance, let's hold moie chal · Ros. In private theu. King.

I am best pleas'd with that

{They converse aparı Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet wor

with thee.

with you.

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

Biron. One word in secrets

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

Gall? bitter.

Therefore meet.

[They converse apart. Dum. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a

Mar. Name it.

Fair lady,--

Say you so? Fair lord,
Take that for your fair lady.

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

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

Long. I know the reason, lady, why you

Kuth. O, for your reason! quickly, sir; I long.
Long. You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford niy speechless visor half.
Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman ;-Is pot veal a

Long. A calf, fair lady?

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

No, I'll pot 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. 1

• Falsify dice, Ise.


Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Long. One word in private with you, ere I die. Kath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you cry..

[They converse apart. Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as


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 trave 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, musick, and at

tendants. 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 Biron was out of countenance quite:

Ros. O! they were all in lamentable cases ! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit.

Mar. Dumain was at niy service, and his sword: No point*, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.

Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin.

Qualm, perhaps Kath. Yes, in good faith. Prin.

Go, sickness as thou art !

* A quibble on the French adverb of negation,

Ros.Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps*. 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. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.

Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be, 'They will digest this harsh indignity.

Pron. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: Therefore, change favourst; and when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in the summer air. Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be under

stood. Boyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing 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 I 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. Boyet. Ladies, withdraw the gallants are at

hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run orer land.

[Ereunt Princers, Ros. Kath. and Maria, Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in

their proper habits. King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the prio


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• Better wits may be found among citizens. + Features, countenances.


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 wheu God doth please : He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassels*, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on bis 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! Day, he can sing A meant most meanly; aud, 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 whales bonet: And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued. Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tougue, 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?

Rustic merry-meetings, + The tenor in musick.

The tooth of the horse-whale.

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