He rather means to lodge you in the field, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The Ladies mask. Enter King, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Biron. I know, you did. Ros. To ask the question! Biron. How needless was it then You must not be so quick. Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Biron. Now fair befall your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! Biron. Nay, then will I be gone. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,) Although not valued to the money's worth. Which we much rather had depart3 withal, Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again. Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, Of Charles his father. King. Satisfy me so. Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell; To-morrow shall we visit you again. Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! glad to see it. heard it groan. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physick says, I.+ Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that same? Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the white? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Long. Heaven's blessing on your beard! She is an heir of Falconbridge. Long. Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most sweet lady. Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit LONG. Biron. What's her name, in the cap? Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no? Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu! Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit BIRON.— - Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies,) And every jest but a word. 4 Aye, yes. 5 A French particle of negation. By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. Prin. With what? Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. I only have made a mouth of his eye. Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully. Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad girls? Mar. No. |