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'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over. [Giving him the letter, Where hadst thou it?
Jaq. Of Costard.
thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy ; your grace needs
not fear it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore
let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name.
[Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead [To Cos
tard.] you were born to do me shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty ; I confess, I confess.
make up the mess : Hi, he, and you, my liege, and I, Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. 0, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. Dum. Now the number is even. Biron.
True, true; we are four :Will these turtles be gone ? King:
Hence, sirs; away. Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
[Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us em
brace! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be : The sea will ebb and Aow, 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 forgworn. King. What, did these rent lines show some
love of thine? Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the
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 ?
King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee 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 Birón:
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 : Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,
And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. O, 'tis the sun, that maketh all things shine!
King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
A wife of such wood were felicity.
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack, If that she learn not of her eye
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
0, 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. Long. 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'ii tind a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till dooms-day
here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as
she. Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love : my foot and her face see.
[Showing his shoe. Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine
eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread ! Dum. O vile! then as she goes, what upward lies The street should see as she walk'd over
head. King. But what of this ? Are we not all in love? Biron. 0, nothing so sure; and thereby all for
Dum. Ay, marry, there ;-soine flattery for this
evil. Long. O, some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets, i how to cheat the devil.
Dum. Some salve for perjury.
O, 'tis more than need !
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes
fools. For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love; Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men; Or for men's sake, the authors of these women; Or women's sake, by whom we men are men ; Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,