I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion;
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion
Ah me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
You would for paradise break faith and troth;

[To LONG. And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath. [To DUMAIN.

What will Birón say, when that he shall hear
A faith infring'd, which such a zeal did swear?
How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it?.
For all the wealth that ever I did see,

I would not have him know so much by me.
Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.-
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me:

[Descends from the tree. Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove These worms for loving, that art most in love? Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears, There is no certain princess that appears: You'll not be perjur'd, 'tis a hateful thing; Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting. But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not, All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot? O, what a scene of foolery I have seen, Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen 3! O me, with what strict patience have I sat, To see a king transformed to a gnat! And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, And critick Timon laugh at idle toys! Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumain? And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain? And where my liege's? all about the breast:A caudle, ho!

3 Grief.

VOL. II.

4 Cynic.

B B

King,

Too bitter is thy jest.

Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
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.

Soft: Whither away so fast?

A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?

Biron. I post from love; good lover, let me go.

Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD.

Jaq. God bless the king!?

King.

What present hast thou there?

What makes treason here?

Cost. Some certain treason.

King.

Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. King. If it mar nothing neither, The treason, and you, go in peace away together. Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be

Our

read;

parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over.

Where hadst thou it?

Jag. Of Costard.

[Giving him the letter.

King. Where hadst thou it?

Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.

King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it?

In trimming myself.

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 loggerhead, [To COSTARD.] you were born to do me shame.

Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess.
King. What?

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.
Dum. Now the number is even.

Biron.

True, true; we are four :

Will these turtles be gone?

Hence, sirs; away.

King. Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors [Exeunt COST. and JAQ.

stay.

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?

King. What zeal, what fury hath inspired 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 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

Fye, painted rhetorick! 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.
Biron. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!

A wife of such wood were felicity.

O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:

No face is fair, that is not full so black.
O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
It mourns, that painting, and usurping hair,
Should ravish doters with a false aspéct;

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.

King. But what of this? Are we not all in love? Biron. Nothing so sure; and thereby all for

sworn.

King. Then leave this chat; and, good Birón, now prove

Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.

Dum. Ay, marry, there, evil.

some flattery for this

Long. 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. Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young And abstinence engenders maladies.

And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you hath forsworn his book:
Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence,
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive :
They are the ground, the books, the academes,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, universal plodding prisons up

The nimble spirits in the arteries;

As motion, and long during action, tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forsworn the use of eyes;
And study too, the causer of your vow:
For where is any author in the world,
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are, our learning likewise is.
Then, when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
Do we not likewise see our learning there?
O, we have made a vow to study, lords;
And in that vow we have forsworn our books;
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation, have found out
Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes

6 Law-chicane.