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In their own shapes; for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.

Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows : Therefore change favours, and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer-air. Prin. How, blow ? how, blow? speak to be under

ftood. Boyet. " Fair ladies mask'd, are roses in the bud, “ Or angels veil'd in clouds: are roses blown, “ Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shewn.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! what shall we do
If they return in their own shapes to woo ?

Rof Good Madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
Let's mock them ftill, as well known, as disguis’d;
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguis’d, sike Muscovites, in shapeless gear ;
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vildly penn'd,
And their rough carriage, so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw, the gallants are at hand.
Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er the land,

[Exeunt. SCENE VII. Before the Princess's pavilion. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in

their own habits ; Boyet meeting them.
King. Fair Sir, God save you! Where's the Princess?
Boyet. Gone to her tent.
Please it your Majesty, command me any service to her?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
Boyet. I will; and so will fhe, I know, my Lord.

King. This fellow picks up wit, as pidgeons peas;
And utters it again, when Jove doth please :
He is wit's pedlar, and retails his wares
At wakes and waffals, meetings, markets, fairs :
And we that ill by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such how,

This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
He can carve too, and lifp : why, this is he
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy ;
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms : nay, he can fing
A mean most mainly; and, in ushering,
Mend him who can; the ladies call him sweet ;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet.
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To thew his teeth as white as whale his bone.
And consciences that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongu'd Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tongue with my heart,
That Armado's page out of his part !


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Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Catharine, Boyet,

and attendants *. King. We come to visit you, and purpose now

To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.
Prin. This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow:

Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.
King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke ;

The virtue of your eye must break my oath,
Prin. You pick-name virtue ; vice you should

spoke :
For virtue's office never breaks mens' troth,
Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unsully'd lilly, I proteft,
A world of torments though I should endure,

I would not yield to be your house's guest :

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Biron. See, where it comes ; behaviour, what wert thou,
Till this man shew'd thee? and what art thựu now?
King. All hail sweet Madam, and fair time of day!

Prin. Fair in all hail is foul, as I conceive.
King. Construc my speeches better, if you may

Prin. Then wilh me better, I will give you leave. King. We come, GG,

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So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heav'nly oaths, vowd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in desolation here,

Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not fo, my Lord ; it is not so, I swear ;

We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game.
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, Madam? Ruffians ?

Prin. Ay, in truth, my Lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.

Rof. Madam, speak true. It is not so, my Lord :
My Lady (to the manner of the days)
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed, confronted were with four
In Russian habit: here they staid an hour,
And talk'd apace ; and in that hour, my Lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools ; but this I think,
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.

Biron. This jeft is dry to me. Fair, gentle, sweet, Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet With eyes beft seeing heaven's fiery eye, By light we lose light ; your capacity Is of that nature, as to your huge store Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.

Rof. This proves you wise and rich ; for in my eye Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.

Biron. O, I am your's, and all that I poffefs.
Rof. All the fool mine?
Biron. I cannot give you less.
Rof. Which of the vizors was it that you

wore? Biron. Where? when ? what vizor ? why demand

you this?

Rof. There, then, that vizor, that superfluous cafe, That hid the worse, and thew'd the better face.

King. We are descried; they'll mock us now downDum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jeft. [right. Prin. Amaz’d, my Lord? why looks your Highness

fad ?

Rof. Help, hold his brows, he'll fwoon : why look

you pale ? Sea-fick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.

Can any face of brass hold longer out? Here stand 1, Lady, dart thy skill at me;

Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout, Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance;

Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will with thee never more to dance,

Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O! never will I trust to speeches penn’d,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue ; Nor never come in vizor to my friend,

Nor woo in rhime, like a blind harper's song. Taffata-phrases, filken terms precise,

Three pild hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical, these fuminer-flies,

Have blowa me full of maggot ostentation : I do forfwear them; and I here proteft,

By this white glove, (how white the hand, God

knows !) Henceforth my wooing mind thall be expressid

In russet Yeas, and honest kersy Noes : And to begin, wench, (so God help me, law!), My love to thee is found, fans crack or flaw.

Rof. Sans, fans, I pray you.

Biron. Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage : bear with me, I am fick.
I'll leave it by degrees : foft, let us fee ;
Write, Lord have mercy on us, on those three ;
They are infected, in their hearts it lies ;
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes
These Lords are visited, you are not free;
For the Lords tokens on you both I fee.

Prin. No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us.
Rof. It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that fue?

Biron. Peace, for I will not have to do with you.
Rof. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
Biron. Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end.

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King. Teach us, sweet Madam, for our rude tranfgrefSome fair excuse.

[fion Prin. The faireft is confession. Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd ?

King. Madam, I was.
Prin. And were you well advis'd.
King. I was, fair Madam.

Prin. When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?

King. That more than all the world I did respect her,
Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
King. Upon mine honour, no.

Prin. Peace, peace, forbear :
Your oath once broke, you-force not to forswear.

King. Despise me when I break this oath of mine.

Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whipser in your ear ?

Rof. Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eye-fight; and did value me
Above this world ; adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me, or else die my lover.

Prin. God give thee joy of him! the Noble Lord
Most honourably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my I never swore this lady such an oath.

[troth, Rof. By heav'n, you did ; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this : but take it, Sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess J did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear : And Lord Biron, I thank him, is


dear. What? will


me; or your pearl again?
Biron. Neither of either : I remit both twain,
I see the trick on't ; here was a consent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment),
To dash it, like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some sight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, fome Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,
Told our intents before ; which once disclos’d,

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