Dum, Proceeded well, to stop all good proceed

ing!

Long. He weeds the corn, and still let's grow the weeding.

Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are a breeding.

Dum. How follows that?

Biron.

Fit in his place and time.

Dum. In reason nothing.
Biron.

Something then in rhyme,

Long. Biron is like an envious sneaping' frost,
That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
Biron. Well, say I am; why should proud summer
boast,

Before the birds have any cause to sing?
Why should I joy in an abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose

Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing, that in season grows.
So you, to study now it is too late,

}

Climb o'er the house t' unlock the little gate.
King. Well, sit you out: go home, Biron; adieu!
Biron. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay

with you:

And, though I have for barbarism spoke more,
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore,

And bide the penance of each three years' day.
Give me the paper, let me read the same;
And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name.
King. How well this yielding rescues thee from
shame!

Biron. [Reads.] Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court.

And hath this been proclaim'd?

Four days ago..

1 Nipping.

[Reads.] On pain of losing her tongue!

Long. Marry, that did I.

Biron. Sweet lord, and why?

Who devis'd this?

Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty.

Biron. A dangerous law against gentility.

[Reads.] Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such publick shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.

This article, my liege, yourself must break;

For, well you know, here comes in embassy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak,

A maid of grace, and cómplete majesty, About surrender-up of Aquitain

To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Therefore this article is made in vain,

Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot.

Biron. So study evermore is overshot; While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost. King. We must, of force, dispense with this de-.

cree;

She must be here on mere necessity.

Biron. If I break faith, this word shall speak for me,

I am forsworn on mere necessity.

So to the laws at large I write my name:

[Subscribes.

And he, that breaks them in the least degree,

Stands in attainder of perpetual shame:
Suggestions are to others, as to me;

2 Temptations.

·

But, I believe, although I seem so loth,

I am the last that will last keep his oath.
But is there is no quick recreation granted?

King. Ay, that there is: our court, you know, is haunted

With a refined traveller of Spain;

A-man in all the world's new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain :
One, whom the musick of his own vain tongue
, Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony;
A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny :
This child of fancy, that Armado hight',

For interim to our studies, shall relate,
In high-born words, the worth of many a knight
From tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate.
How you delight, my lords, I know not, I;
But, I protest, I love to hear him lie,
And I will use him for my minstrelsy.

Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. Long. Costard the swain, and he, shall be our

sport;

And, so to study, three years is but short. King. Then go we, lords, to put in practice that Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. [Exeunt King, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Armado's House.

Enter ARMADO and MOTH.

Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy.

3-Called.

Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.

Moth. No, no, sir, no.

Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal+?

Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior.

Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why, tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.

Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty, and apt.

Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little.

Moth. Little pretty, because little : Wherefore

apt?

Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master?
Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise."
Arm. What? that an eel is ingenious?
Moth. That an eel is quick.

Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: Thou heatest my blood.

Moth. I am answered, sir.

Arm. I love not to be crossed.

Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses' love not him.

[Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.
Arm. Impossible.

4 Young man.

The name of a coin once current.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of

a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.

Moth. Which the base vulgar do call, three.
Arm. True.

:

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere you'll thrice wink and how easy is it to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!

Moth. To prove you a cypher.

[Aside. Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and my love is most immaculate white and red.

Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue,

assist me!

Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!

Moth. If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shown:
Then, if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know;
For still her cheeks possess the
Which native she doth owe."

same,

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

6 Of which she is naturally possessed.