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. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul. Dull. What is Dietynna? Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam was And raught not to five weeks, when he came to five score. The allusion holds in the exchange. Dull. "Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; chal-exchange. lenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; Good night, my good owl. [Fxeunt Boyet and Maria. Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweetests! most ineony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Armatho o' the one side,-O, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan! And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit! Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience. Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange. Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a mouth old: and I say be side, 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 call'd 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. The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket; Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. The dogs did yell; put L to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a hooting. Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,-blood: ripe as a pomewater-who now hangeth like a jew If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; O in the ear of coelo,-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. Si Nathaniel, haud credo. Dull, "Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of in sinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, rephcation-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 credo for a deer. Dull. I said the deer was not a haud credo ; 'twas a pricket. Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus !~O 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, sore L! Of one sore I an hundred make, y adding but one more L. Nath. A rare talent! Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor❜d by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth. Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they 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. Cost. Marry, master school-master, 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 So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well. school: But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull. 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, ci non te pregia. Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not.-Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.-Under par don, sir, what are the contents? or, rather, as Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses? Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned. 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 recreation. [Exeunt. Hel. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege, SCENE III.-Another part of the same. Enter Bi domine. Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! Though to myself forsworu, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes; Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice; Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend: All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder; (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;) Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. Celestial as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue! Hel. 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. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of faney, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider.But damosella virgin, was this directed to you? Jeg. Ay, sir, from one monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords. Hal. 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 to: Your ladyship's in all desired employment, Biron. -Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a se quent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.-Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu. Jog. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save your Life! Cest. Have with thee, my girl. [Exe. Cost. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith—— Hel. 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. Hel. 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 aforesaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society. Nath. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text) is the happiness of life. ron, with a paper. Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: They have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch: pitch that defiles; defile! a foul word. Well, sit 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 A ax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; I'faith, I will not. O, but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in: Here comes one with a paper; God give him grace to groan! [Gets up into a tree. Enter the King, with a paper. King. Ah me! Biron. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven!-Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt uider the left pap:-l'faith secrets.King. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The night of dew, that on my cheeks down flows Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep: No drop, but as a coach, doth carry thee, So ridest thou triumphing in my woe; Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they thy glory through thy grief will show : But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel! No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper; Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? [Steps aside: Enter Longaville, with a paper. What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear. Biron. [Aside.] Now, in thy likeness, one more fool, appear! Lon. Ah me! I am forsworn. Biron. [Aside.] Why, he comes in a like perjure, wearing papers. King. [Aside.] In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in shame! Biron. [Aside.] One drunkard loves another of the name. Lon. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not by two, that I know: Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity. Lon. I fear, these stubborn lines lack power to move * O sweet Maria, empress of my love! Lon. This same shall go. [He reads the sonnet. Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye ('Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,) Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore; but, I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love; Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is: Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is: If broken then, it is no fault of mine; If by me broke, What fool is not so wise, To lose an oath to win a paradise? Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity; A green goose, a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! we are much out o'the way. Enter Dumain, with a paper. Lon. By whom shall I send this ?-Company! stay. [Stepping aside. Biron. [Aside.] All hid, all hid, an old infant play: Like a demi-god, here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish; Dumain transform'd: four woodcocks in a dish! Dum. O most divine Kate! Biron. O most profane coxcomb! [Aside. Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye? Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie. [Aside. Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted. [Aside. Dum. As fair as day. Her shoulder is with child. Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must Dum. O that I had my wish! And I had mine. [Aside. [Aside. King. And I mine too, good Lord! Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word? [Aside. Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Biron. A fever in your blood, why, then incision Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision! [Asi. Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. Dum. On a day, (alack the day!) Love, whose month is ever May, [Aside. But alack, my hand is sworn, That I am forsworn for thee: Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear, And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for thy love. This will I send; and something else more plain, [Advancing. King. Come, sir, [Advancing.] you blush: as his your case is such; You chide at him, offending twice as much : [To Long And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath [To Dumain. What will Biron say, when that he shall hear O, what a scene of foolery I have seen, King. Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you ; I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin To break the vow, I am engaged in ; I am betray'd, by keeping company With moon-like men, of strange inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time In pruning me? When shall you hear that I Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, A leg, a limb ? King. Of Costard. Where hadst thou it? Cast. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Eiron. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs not fear it. Len. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it. Dun. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess. Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess: He, he, and you, my liege, and I, Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. King. Hence, sirs; away. Cast. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us embrace! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be: The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; Young blood will not obey an old decree: We cannot cross the cause why we were born ; Therefore, of all hands, must we be forsworn. King. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine? Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline, That, like a rude and savage man of Inde, At the first opening of the gorgeous east, Bows not his vassal head; and, strucken blind, Kisses the base ground with obedient breast? What peremptory eagle-sighted eye, Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty? 16 King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee now? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; She, an attending star, scarce seen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron : O, but for my love, day would turn to night! Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity; Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues, Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not To things of sale a seller's praise belongs; She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot. A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack, No face is fair, that is not full so black. King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night; And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt, It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair, Should ravish doters with a false aspect; And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days; For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweepers black. Lon. And, since her time, are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. Dum, Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light, Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be wash'd away. King. "Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day here. Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. Dum. Ay, marry, there ;-some flattery for this evil. Lon. O, some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. Dum. Some salve for perjury. Biron. O, 'tis more than need!-Have at you then, affection's men at arms: Consider, what you first did swear unto ;To fast,-to study,—and to see no woman;— Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth. And where that you have vow'd to study, lords, Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look? From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. As motion, and long-during action, tires It is religion to be thus forsworn: 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, Lon. 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 We will with some strange pastime solace them, SATIS quod sufficit. Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado. 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, 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, caulf; half, haulf; neighbour, vocatur, nebour; neigh, abbreviated, ne: This is abhominable (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic. |