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Prin. And will they for the gallants shall be talk'd; For, Ladies, we will every one be mask'd : And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despight of suit, to see a lady's face. Hold, Rosaline ; this favour thou shalt wear, And then the King will court thee for his dear : Hold, take you this, my sweet, and give me thine; So shall Biron take me for Rosaline, And change your favours too ; fo shall your loves Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.
Rof. Come on then, wear the favoạrs most in sight.
Prin. Th' effect of my intent is to cross theirs ;
Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't?
Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot ; Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace : But while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet, Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's
Prin. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt,
[Sound. Boyet. The trumpet founds ; be mask'd, the malkers
Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, Dumain, and atten.
dants, disguis'd like Muscovites ; Moth with mufic, us for a masquerade. Moth. All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffata,
[The ladies turn their backs to him. Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views Out
Biron. True; out, indeed.
Moth. Out of your favours, heav'nily spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold.
Biron. Once to behold, rogue,
Moth. Once to behold with your fun-beamed eyes
Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet ;
Boyet. What would you with the Princess ?
King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles,
Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd miles,
Boyet. She hears herself.
Rós. How many weary steps
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Rof. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy ftars, to shine (Those clouds remov’d) upon our watery eyne.
Rof. O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter ; Thou now request'ft but moonshine in the water.
King. Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change; Thou bid'ft me beg, this begging is not strange.
Rof. Play, music, then; nay, you must do it soon. Not yet? no dance ? thus change I, like the moon. King. Will you not dance ? how come you thus e
ftrang'd? Rof. You took the moon at full, but now she's
Rof. Our ears vouchsafe it.
Ros. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance, We'll not be nice ; take hands ;-we will not dance.
King. Why take you hands then!
Rof. Only to part friends ;
King. More measure of this measure ; be not nice.
Rof. Your absence only.
Rof. Then cannot we be bought ; and so adieu ;
King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat,
Rof. In private then.
-well run, dice: There's half a dozen sweets.
Prin. Seventh sweet, adieu ;
Biron. One word in secret.
Mar. Say you fo? fair Lord :
Dum. Please it you;
Cath. What, was your visor made without a tongue ?
Long. You have a double tongue within your mask,
Cath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge, invincible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be feen :
Above the sense of sensible, so sensible Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings; Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter
things. Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break
off. Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure fcoff.King. Farewel, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
[Exeunt King and Lords. SCENE VI. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites. Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?
Boyet. Tapers they are with your sweet breaths puft Rof. Well-liking wits they have ; gross, gross; fat,
fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly poor flout ! Will they not (think you) hang themselves to-night?
Or ever, but in vizors, shew their faces ? This pert Biron was out of count’nance quite.
Rof. O! they were all in lamentable cases. The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.
Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
Blar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword: No, point, quoth ); my fervant straight was mute.
Caib. Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart, And trow you what he callid me ?
Prin. Qualm, perhaps.
Mof. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. But will you hear ? the King is my love sworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath pl.ghied faith to me. Cath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as fure is bark on tree.
Boyet. Madam, and pretty niftreffes, give ear : Immediately they will again be here