1    Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
2    If fairings come thus plentifully in:
3    A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
4    Look you what I have from the loving king.

5    Madame, came nothing else along with that?

6    Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme
7    As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
8    Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
9    That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

10   That was the way to make his godhead wax,
11   For he hath been five thousand years a boy.

12   Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.

13   You'll ne'er be friends with him; a' kill'd your sister.

14   He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
15   And so she died: had she been light, like you,
16   Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
17   She might ha' been a grandam ere she died:
18   And so may you; for a light heart lives long.

19   What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

20   A light condition in a beauty dark.

21   We need more light to find your meaning out.

22   You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
23   Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

24   Look what you do, you do it still i' the dark.

25   So do not you, for you are a light wench.

26   Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.

27   You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.

28   Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'

29   Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
30   But Rosaline, you have a favour too:
31   Who sent it? and what is it?

32   I would you knew:
33   An if my face were but as fair as yours,
34   My favour were as great; be witness this.
35   Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron:
36   The numbers true; and, were the numbering too,
37   I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
38   I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
39   O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!

40   Any thing like?

41   Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.

42   Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.

43   Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

44   'Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor,
45   My red dominical, my golden letter:
46   O, that your face were not so full of O's!

47   A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows.

48   But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?

49   Madam, this glove.

50   Did he not send you twain?

51   Yes, madam, and moreover
52   Some thousand verses of a faithful lover,
53   A huge translation of hypocrisy,
54   Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.

55   This and these pearls to me sent Longaville:
56   The letter is too long by half a mile.

57   I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
58   The chain were longer and the letter short?

59   Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

60   We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.

61   They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
62   That same Biron I'll torture ere I go:
63   O that I knew he were but in by the week!
64   How I would make him fawn and beg and seek
65   And wait the season and observe the times
66   And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes
67   And shape his service wholly to my hests
68   And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
69   So perttaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
70   That he should be my fool and I his fate.

71   None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd,
72   As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
73   Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school
74   And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

75   The blood of youth burns not with such excess
76   As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

77   Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
78   As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
79   Since all the power thereof it doth apply
80   To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

81   Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.

82   O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?

83   Thy news Boyet?

84   Prepare, madam, prepare!
85   Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
86   Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised,
87   Armed in arguments; you'll be surprised:
88   Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
89   Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.

90   Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they
91   That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.

92   Under the cool shade of a sycamore
93   I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
94   When, lo! to interrupt my purposed rest,
95   Toward that shade I might behold addrest
96   The king and his companions: warily
97   I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
98   And overheard what you shall overhear,
99   That, by and by, disguised they will be here.
100  Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
101  That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
102  Action and accent did they teach him there;
103  'Thus must thou speak,' and 'thus thy body bear:'
104  And ever and anon they made a doubt
105  Presence majestical would put him out,
106  'For,' quoth the king, 'an angel shalt thou see;
107  Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.'
108  The boy replied, 'An angel is not evil;
109  I should have fear'd her had she been a devil.'
110  With that, all laugh'd and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
111  Making the bold wag by their praises bolder:
112  One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and swore
113  A better speech was never spoke before;
114  Another, with his finger and his thumb,
115  Cried, 'Via! we will do't, come what will come;'
116  The third he caper'd, and cried, 'All goes well;'
117  The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
118  With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
119  With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
120  That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
121  To cheque their folly, passion's solemn tears.

122  But what, but what, come they to visit us?

123  They do, they do: and are apparell'd thus.
124  Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
125  Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance;
126  And every one his love-feat will advance
127  Unto his several mistress, which they'll know
128  By favours several which they did bestow.

129  And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd;
130  For, ladies, we shall every one be mask'd;
131  And not a man of them shall have the grace,
132  Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
133  Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
134  And then the king will court thee for his dear;
135  Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
136  So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.
137  And change your favours too; so shall your loves
138  Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.

139  Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight.

140  But in this changing what is your intent?

141  The effect of my intent is to cross theirs:
142  They do it but in mocking merriment;
143  And mock for mock is only my intent.
144  Their several counsels they unbosom shall
145  To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
146  Upon the next occasion that we meet,
147  With visages displayed, to talk and greet.

148  But shall we dance, if they desire to't?

149  No, to the death, we will not move a foot;
150  Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace,
151  But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.

152  Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
153  And quite divorce his memory from his part.

154  Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt
155  The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out
156  There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown,
157  To make theirs ours and ours none but our own:
158  So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
159  And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame.

160  The trumpet sounds: be mask'd; the maskers come.

161  All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!--

162  Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.

163  A holy parcel of the fairest dames.
The Ladies turn their backs to him
164  That ever turn'd their--backs--to mortal views!

Aside to MOTH
165   Their eyes, villain, their eyes!

166  That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!--Out--

167  True; out indeed.

168  Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
169  Not to behold--

Aside to MOTH
170   Once to behold, rogue.

171  Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,
172  --with your sun-beamed eyes--

173  They will not answer to that epithet;
174  You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.'

175  They do not mark me, and that brings me out.

176  Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue!

177  What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet:
178  If they do speak our language, 'tis our will:
179  That some plain man recount their purposes
180  Know what they would.

181  What would you with the princess?

182  Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

183  What would they, say they?

184  Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

185  Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.

186  She says, you have it, and you may be gone.

187  Say to her, we have measured many miles
188  To tread a measure with her on this grass.

189  They say, that they have measured many a mile
190  To tread a measure with you on this grass.

191  It is not so. Ask them how many inches
192  Is in one mile: if they have measured many,
193  The measure then of one is easily told.

194  If to come hither you have measured miles,
195  And many miles, the princess bids you tell
196  How many inches doth fill up one mile.

197  Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.

198  She hears herself.

199  How many weary steps,
200  Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
201  Are number'd in the travel of one mile?

202  We number nothing that we spend for you:
203  Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
204  That we may do it still without accompt.
205  Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
206  That we, like savages, may worship it.

207  My face is but a moon, and clouded too.

208  Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do!
209  Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine,
210  Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.

211  O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
212  Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water.

213  Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
214  Thou bid'st me beg: this begging is not strange.

215  Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.
Music plays
216  Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon.

217  Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

218  You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.

219  Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
220  The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.

221  Our ears vouchsafe it.

222  But your legs should do it.

223  Since you are strangers and come here by chance,
224  We'll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance.

225  Why take we hands, then?

226  Only to part friends:
227  Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.

228  More measure of this measure; be not nice.

229  We can afford no more at such a price.

230  Prize you yourselves: what buys your company?

231  Your absence only.

232  That can never be.

233  Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu;
234  Twice to your visor, and half once to you.

235  If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.

236  In private, then.

237  I am best pleased with that.

238  White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

239  Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.

240  Nay then, two treys, and if you grow so nice,
241  Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice!
242  There's half-a-dozen sweets.

243  Seventh sweet, adieu:
244  Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

245  One word in secret.

246  Let it not be sweet.

247  Thou grievest my gall.

248  Gall! bitter.

249  Therefore meet.

250  Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?

251  Name it.

252  Fair lady,--

253  Say you so? Fair lord,--
254  Take that for your fair lady.

255  Please it you,
256  As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.

257  What, was your vizard made without a tongue?

258  I know the reason, lady, why you ask.

259  O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long.

260  You have a double tongue within your mask,
261  And would afford my speechless vizard half.

262  Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf?

263  A calf, fair lady!

264  No, a fair lord calf.

265  Let's part the word.

266  No, I'll not be your half
267  Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.

268  Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!
269  Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.

270  Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.

271  One word in private with you, ere I die.

272  Bleat softly then; the butcher hears you cry.

273  The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
274  As is the razor's edge invisible,
275  Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
276  Above the sense of sense; so sensible
277  Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings
278  Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.

279  Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

280  By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!

281  Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

282  Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors
283  Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?

284  Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

285  Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.

286  O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
287  Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?
288  Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces?
289  This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.

290  O, they were all in lamentable cases!
291  The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

292  Biron did swear himself out of all suit.

293  Dumain was at my service, and his sword:
294  No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.

295  Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;
296  And trow you what he called me?

297  Qualm, perhaps.

298  Yes, in good faith.

299  Go, sickness as thou art!

300  Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
301  But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.

302  And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.

303  And Longaville was for my service born.

304  Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.

305  Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
306  Immediately they will again be here
307  In their own shapes; for it can never be
308  They will digest this harsh indignity.

309  Will they return?

310  They will, they will, God knows,
311  And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:
312  Therefore change favours; and, when they repair,
313  Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.

314  How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.

315  Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud;
316  Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
317  Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

318  Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do,
319  If they return in their own shapes to woo?

320  Good madam, if by me you'll be advised,
321  Let's, mock them still, as well known as disguised:
322  Let us complain to them what fools were here,
323  Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
324  And wonder what they were and to what end
325  Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd
326  And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
327  Should be presented at our tent to us.

328  Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand.

329  Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.

330  Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess?

331  Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty
332  Command me any service to her thither?

333  That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.

334  I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.

335  This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease,
336  And utters it again when God doth please:
337  He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares
338  At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
339  And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
340  Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
341  This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
342  Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve;
343  A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he
344  That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;
345  This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
346  That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
347  In honourable terms: nay, he can sing
348  A mean most meanly; and in ushering
349  Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet;
350  The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
351  This is the flower that smiles on every one,
352  To show his teeth as white as whale's bone;
353  And consciences, that will not die in debt,
354  Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

355  A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,
356  That put Armado's page out of his part!

357  See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou
358  Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now?

359  All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!

360  'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive.

361  Construe my speeches better, if you may.

362  Then wish me better; I will give you leave.

363  We came to visit you, and purpose now
364  To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.

365  This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow:
366  Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men.

367  Rebuke me not for that which you provoke:
368  The virtue of your eye must break my oath.

369  You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke;
370  For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
371  Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
372  As the unsullied lily, I protest,
373  A world of torments though I should endure,
374  I would not yield to be your house's guest;
375  So much I hate a breaking cause to be
376  Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.

377  O, you have lived in desolation here,
378  Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.

379  Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
380  We have had pastimes here and pleasant game:
381  A mess of Russians left us but of late.

382  How, madam! Russians!

383  Ay, in truth, my lord;
384  Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.

385  Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord:
386  My lady, to the manner of the days,
387  In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
388  We four indeed confronted were with four
389  In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
390  And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
391  They did not bless us with one happy word.
392  I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
393  When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.

394  This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet,
395  Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet,
396  With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
397  By light we lose light: your capacity
398  Is of that nature that to your huge store
399  Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.

400  This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,--

401  I am a fool, and full of poverty.

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

404  O, I am yours, and all that I possess!

405  All the fool mine?

406  I cannot give you less.

407  Which of the vizards was it that you wore?

408  Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this?

409  There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
410  That hid the worse and show'd the better face.

411  We are descried; they'll mock us now downright.

412  Let us confess and turn it to a jest.

413  Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad?

414  Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?
415  Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

416  Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
417  Can any face of brass hold longer out?
418  Here stand I lady, dart thy skill at me;
419  Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout;
420  Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance;
421  Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
422  And I will wish thee never more to dance,
423  Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
424  O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
425  Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue,
426  Nor never come in vizard to my friend,
427  Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song!
428  Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
429  Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,
430  Figures pedantical; these summer-flies
431  Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:
432  I do forswear them; and I here protest,
433  By this white glove;--how white the hand, God knows!--
434  Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
435  In russet yeas and honest kersey noes:
436  And, to begin, wench,--so God help me, la!--
437  My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

438  Sans sans, I pray you.

439  Yet I have a trick
440  Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick;
441  I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see:
442  Write, 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three;
443  They are infected; in their hearts it lies;
444  They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes;
445  These lords are visited; you are not free,
446  For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.

447  No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.

448  Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us.

449  It is not so; for how can this be true,
450  That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?

451  Peace! for I will not have to do with you.

452  Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.

453  Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end.

454  Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
455  Some fair excuse.

456  The fairest is confession.
457  Were not you here but even now disguised?

458  Madam, I was.

459  And were you well advised?

460  I was, fair madam.

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

463  That more than all the world I did respect her.

464  When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.

465  Upon mine honour, no.

466  Peace, peace! forbear:
467  Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.

468  Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.

469  I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
470  What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

471  Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
472  As precious eyesight, and did value me
473  Above this world; adding thereto moreover
474  That he would wed me, or else die my lover.

475  God give thee joy of him! the noble lord
476  Most honourably doth unhold his word.

477  What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth,
478  I never swore this lady such an oath.

479  By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain,
480  You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.

481  My faith and this the princess I did give:
482  I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

483  Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
484  And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.
485  What, will you have me, or your pearl again?

486  Neither of either; I remit both twain.
487  I see the trick on't: here was a consent,
488  Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
489  To dash it like a Christmas comedy:
490  Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
491  Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
492  That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick
493  To make my lady laugh when she's disposed,
494  Told our intents before; which once disclosed,
495  The ladies did change favours: and then we,
496  Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
497  Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
498  We are again forsworn, in will and error.
499  Much upon this it is: and might not you
To BOYET
500  Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
501  Do not you know my lady's foot by the squier,
502  And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
503  And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
504  Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
505  You put our page out: go, you are allow'd;
506  Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
507  You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye
508  Wounds like a leaden sword.

509  Full merrily
510  Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.

511  Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done.
Enter COSTARD
512  Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.

513  O Lord, sir, they would know
514  Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.

515  What, are there but three?

516  No, sir; but it is vara fine,
517  For every one pursents three.

518  And three times thrice is nine.

519  Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope it is not so.
520  You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir we know
521  what we know:
522  I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,--

523  Is not nine.

524  Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.

525  By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.

526  O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living
527  by reckoning, sir.

528  How much is it?

529  O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors,
530  sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine
531  own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man
532  in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir.

533  Art thou one of the Worthies?

534  It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion the
535  Great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of
536  the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.

537  Go, bid them prepare.

538  We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take
539  some care.

540  Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach.

541  We are shame-proof, my lord: and tis some policy
542  To have one show worse than the king's and his company.

543  I say they shall not come.

544  Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now:
545  That sport best pleases that doth least know how:
546  Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
547  Dies in the zeal of that which it presents:
548  Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
549  When great things labouring perish in their birth.

550  A right description of our sport, my lord.

551  Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal
552  sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.

553  Doth this man serve God?

554  Why ask you?

555  He speaks not like a man of God's making.

556  That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for,
557  I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding
558  fantastical; too, too vain, too too vain: but we
559  will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra.
560  I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!

561  Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He
562  presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the
563  Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page,
564  Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus: And if
565  these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
566  These four will change habits, and present the other five.

567  There is five in the first show.

568  You are deceived; 'tis not so.

569  The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool
570  and the boy:--
571  Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
572  Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.

573  The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.

574  I Pompey am,--

575  You lie, you are not he.

576  I Pompey am,--

577  With libbard's head on knee.

578  Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends
579  with thee.

580  I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big--

581  The Great.

582  It is, 'Great,' sir:--
583  Pompey surnamed the Great;
584  That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make
585  my foe to sweat:
586  And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance,
587  And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France,
588  If your ladyship would say, 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.

589  Great thanks, great Pompey.

590  'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect: I
591  made a little fault in 'Great.'

592  My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.

593  When in the world I lived, I was the world's
594  commander;
595  By east, west, north, and south, I spread my
596  conquering might:
597  My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander,--

598  Your nose says, no, you are not for it stands too right.

599  Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling knight.

600  The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.

601  When in the world I lived, I was the world's
602  commander,--

603  Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.

604  Pompey the Great,--

605  Your servant, and Costard.

606  Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.

To SIR NATHANIEL
607   O, sir, you have overthrown
608  Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of
609  the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds
610  his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given
611  to Ajax: he will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror,
612  and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander.
SIR NATHANIEL retires
613  There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an
614  honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a
615  marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good
616  bowler: but, for Alisander,--alas, you see how
617  'tis,--a little o'erparted. But there are Worthies
618  a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

619  Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
620  Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canis;
621  And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
622  Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
623  Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
624  Ergo I come with this apology.
625  Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
MOTH retires
626  Judas I am,--

627  A Judas!

628  Not Iscariot, sir.
629  Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus.

630  Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas.

631  A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas?

632  Judas I am,--

633  The more shame for you, Judas.

634  What mean you, sir?

635  To make Judas hang himself.

636  Begin, sir; you are my elder.

637  Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.

638  I will not be put out of countenance.

639  Because thou hast no face.

640  What is this?

641  A cittern-head.

642  The head of a bodkin.

643  A Death's face in a ring.

644  The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.

645  The pommel of Caesar's falchion.

646  The carved-bone face on a flask.

647  Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.

648  Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

649  Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer.
650  And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance.

651  You have put me out of countenance.

652  False; we have given thee faces.

653  But you have out-faced them all.

654  An thou wert a lion, we would do so.

655  Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.
656  And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?

657  For the latter end of his name.

658  For the ass to the Jude; give it him:--Jud-as, away!

659  This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.

660  A light for Monsieur Judas! it grows dark, he may stumble.

661  Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!

662  Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms.

663  Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.

664  Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.

665  But is this Hector?

666  I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.

667  His leg is too big for Hector's.

668  More calf, certain.

669  No; he is best endued in the small.

670  This cannot be Hector.

671  He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.

672  The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
673  Gave Hector a gift,--

674  A gilt nutmeg.

675  A lemon.

676  Stuck with cloves.

677  No, cloven.

678  Peace!--
679  The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty
680  Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
681  A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea
682  From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
683  I am that flower,--

684  That mint.

685  That columbine.

686  Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

687  I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.

688  Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

689  The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks,
690  beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed,
691  he was a man. But I will forward with my device.
To the PRINCESS
692  Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.

693  Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.

694  I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.

Aside to DUMAIN
695   Loves her by the foot,--

Aside to BOYET
696   He may not by the yard.

697  This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,--

698  The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she
699  is two months on her way.

700  What meanest thou?

701  Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor
702  wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in
703  her belly already: tis yours.

704  Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt
705  die.

706  Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is
707  quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by
708  him.

709  Most rare Pompey!

710  Renowned Pompey!

711  Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey!
712  Pompey the Huge!

713  Hector trembles.

714  Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them
715  on! stir them on!

716  Hector will challenge him.

717  Ay, if a' have no man's blood in's belly than will
718  sup a flea.

719  By the north pole, I do challenge thee.

720  I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man:
721  I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you,
722  let me borrow my arms again.

723  Room for the incensed Worthies!

724  I'll do it in my shirt.

725  Most resolute Pompey!

726  Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you
727  not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean
728  you? You will lose your reputation.

729  Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat
730  in my shirt.

731  You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.

732  Sweet bloods, I both may and will.

733  What reason have you for't?

734  The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go
735  woolward for penance.

736  True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of
737  linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but
738  a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that a' wears next
739  his heart for a favour.

740  God save you, madam!

741  Welcome, Mercade;
742  But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.

743  I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
744  Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father--

745  Dead, for my life!

746  Even so; my tale is told.

747  Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud.

748  For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have
749  seen the day of wrong through the little hole of
750  discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.

751  How fares your majesty?

752  Boyet, prepare; I will away tonight.

753  Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.

754  Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
755  For all your fair endeavors; and entreat,
756  Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
757  In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
758  The liberal opposition of our spirits,
759  If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
760  In the converse of breath: your gentleness
761  Was guilty of it. Farewell worthy lord!
762  A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue:
763  Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
764  For my great suit so easily obtain'd.

765  The extreme parts of time extremely forms
766  All causes to the purpose of his speed,
767  And often at his very loose decides
768  That which long process could not arbitrate:
769  And though the mourning brow of progeny
770  Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
771  The holy suit which fain it would convince,
772  Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
773  Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
774  From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost
775  Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
776  As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

777  I understand you not: my griefs are double.

778  Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
779  And by these badges understand the king.
780  For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
781  Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty, ladies,
782  Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
783  Even to the opposed end of our intents:
784  And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,--
785  As love is full of unbefitting strains,
786  All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
787  Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
788  Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
789  Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
790  To every varied object in his glance:
791  Which parti-coated presence of loose love
792  Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
793  Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
794  Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
795  Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
796  Our love being yours, the error that love makes
797  Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
798  By being once false for ever to be true
799  To those that make us both,--fair ladies, you:
800  And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
801  Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.

802  We have received your letters full of love;
803  Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
804  And, in our maiden council, rated them
805  At courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy,
806  As bombast and as lining to the time:
807  But more devout than this in our respects
808  Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
809  In their own fashion, like a merriment.

810  Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.

811  So did our looks.

812  We did not quote them so.

813  Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
814  Grant us your loves.

815  A time, methinks, too short
816  To make a world-without-end bargain in.
817  No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
818  Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this:
819  If for my love, as there is no such cause,
820  You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
821  Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
822  To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
823  Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
824  There stay until the twelve celestial signs
825  Have brought about the annual reckoning.
826  If this austere insociable life
827  Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
828  If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds
829  Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
830  But that it bear this trial and last love;
831  Then, at the expiration of the year,
832  Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
833  And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine
834  I will be thine; and till that instant shut
835  My woeful self up in a mourning house,
836  Raining the tears of lamentation
837  For the remembrance of my father's death.
838  If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
839  Neither entitled in the other's heart.

840  If this, or more than this, I would deny,
841  To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
842  The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
843  Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.

844  [And what to me, my love? and what to me?

845  You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd,
846  You are attaint with faults and perjury:
847  Therefore if you my favour mean to get,
848  A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
849  But seek the weary beds of people sick.]

850  But what to me, my love? but what to me? A wife?

851  A beard, fair health, and honesty;
852  With three-fold love I wish you all these three.

853  O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?

854  Not so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day
855  I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say:
856  Come when the king doth to my lady come;
857  Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

858  I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.

859  Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.

860  What says Maria?

861  At the twelvemonth's end
862  I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.

863  I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.

864  The liker you; few taller are so young.

865  Studies my lady? mistress, look on me;
866  Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
867  What humble suit attends thy answer there:
868  Impose some service on me for thy love.

869  Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron,
870  Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
871  Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
872  Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
873  Which you on all estates will execute
874  That lie within the mercy of your wit.
875  To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
876  And therewithal to win me, if you please,
877  Without the which I am not to be won,
878  You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
879  Visit the speechless sick and still converse
880  With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
881  With all the fierce endeavor of your wit
882  To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

883  To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
884  It cannot be; it is impossible:
885  Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

886  Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
887  Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
888  Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
889  A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
890  Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
891  Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
892  Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
893  Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
894  And I will have you and that fault withal;
895  But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
896  And I shall find you empty of that fault,
897  Right joyful of your reformation.

898  A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall,
899  I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.

To FERDINAND
900   Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.

901  No, madam; we will bring you on your way.

902  Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
903  Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy
904  Might well have made our sport a comedy.

905  Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
906  And then 'twill end.

907  That's too long for a play.

908  Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,--

909  Was not that Hector?

910  The worthy knight of Troy.

911  I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am
912  a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the
913  plough for her sweet love three years. But, most
914  esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that
915  the two learned men have compiled in praise of the
916  owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the
917  end of our show.

918  Call them forth quickly; we will do so.

919  Holla! approach.
920  This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring;
921  the one maintained by the owl, the other by the
922  cuckoo. Ver, begin.
THE SONG
923  When daisies pied and violets blue
924  And lady-smocks all silver-white
925  And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
926  Do paint the meadows with delight,
927  The cuckoo then, on every tree,
928  Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;
929  Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
930  Unpleasing to a married ear!
931  When shepherds pipe on oaten straws
932  And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
933  When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
934  And maidens bleach their summer smocks
935  The cuckoo then, on every tree,
936  Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;
937  Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
938  Unpleasing to a married ear!
939  When icicles hang by the wall
940  And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
941  And Tom bears logs into the hall
942  And milk comes frozen home in pail,
943  When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
944  Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
945  Tu-who, a merry note,
946  While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
947  When all aloud the wind doth blow
948  And coughing drowns the parson's saw
949  And birds sit brooding in the snow
950  And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
951  When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
952  Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
953  Tu-who, a merry note,
954  While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

955  The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of
956  Apollo. You that way: we this way.