One part of Aquitain is bound to us, Which we much rather had depart withal,1 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, I Would part with. For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father. Boy. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: King. It shall suffice me; at which interview Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand, Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell : Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his train. Bir. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. Pray you, do my commendations: I would be glad to see it. Bir. I would, you heard it groan. Ros. Is the fool sick? Bir. Sick at the heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Bir. Would that do it good? Ros. My physic says, I.1 Bir. Will you prick 't with your eye? Bir. Now, God save thy life! Ros. And yours from long living! [retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word. What lady is that same? Boy. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit. Lon. I beseech you, a word. What is she in the white? Boy. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Lon. Perchance, light in the light. I desire her name. Boy. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame. Lon. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? She is a most sweet lady. Boy. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit Longaville. 1 Ay, yes. A quibble on the French particle of negation. Bir. What's her name, in the cap? Bir. Is she wedded, or no? Boy. To her will, sir, or so. Bir. You are welcome, sir: adieu! Boy. 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. Boy. And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you, to take him at his word. Boy. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry! Boy. And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture. Shall that finish the jest? Boy. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. [offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though several1 they be. Boy. Belonging to whom? Mar. To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree: The civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused. 1 Private property. Boy. If my observation, (which very seldom lies) By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. Prin. With what? Boy. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boy. Why, all his behaviors did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire : Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. Prin. Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is disposedBoy. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclosed: I only have made a mouth of his eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully. |