And I will wish 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 visor to my friend;1
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song:
Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical; these summer-flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:

I do forswear them: and I here protest,

By this white glove, (how white the hand, God
knows!)

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes:
And, to begin, wench, -So God help me, la!-
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Ros. Sans sans, I pray you.

Biron.

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 slight

zany,

4

Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some
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,
The ladies did change favours; and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn; in will, and error.
Much upon this it is:-And might not you,

[To Boyet.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire,

Yet I have a trick And laugh upon the apple of her eye?

Of the old rage:-bear with me, I am sick;
I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see;-
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 Lord's tokens on you do I sce.

Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens

to us.

And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?

5

You put our page out: Go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

Boyet.
Full merrily
Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have

done.

The fairest is confession.

King. Madam, I was.

Prin.

And were you well advis'd?

King. I was, fair madam.

I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,

Prin.

When you then were here,

What did you whisper in your lady's car?

Biron.
Is not nine.
Cost. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil

King. That more than all the world I did respect it doth amount.

her.

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

Cost. O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir. Biron. How much is it?

Cost. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the great,

Ros. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear sir.
As precious eye-sight; and did value me
A bove this world: adding thereto, morcover,
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
troth,

I never swore this lady such an oath.
Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain,
You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.
King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give;
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear:-
What; will you have me, or your pearl again?
Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain,

(1) Mistress, (2) Make no difficulty.

.

Biron. Art thou one of the worthies? Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy: but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare. Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take [Exit Costard. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not approach. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis some policy

That sport best pleases, that doth least know how:
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Die in the zeal of them which it presents,
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth;
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord.
Enter Armado.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. [Armado converses with the King, and delivers him a paper.

My 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander.
Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it

stands too right.

der-smelling knight.

Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most ten

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed,
Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the

good Alexander.

world's commander ;

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Ali

sander.

Biron. Pompey the great,

Cost.

Your servant, and Costárd. Prin. Doth this man serve God? Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Biron. Why ask you? Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. Alisander. Cost. O, sir, [To Nath.] you have overthrown Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey Alisander the conqueror? You will be scraped out monarch: for, I protest, the school-master is exof the painted cloth for this your lion, that holds ceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain : But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della his poll-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal A-jax, he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, couplement! [Exit Armado. and afeard to speak! run away for shame, AlisanKing. Here is like to be a good presence of wor- der. [Nath. retires.] There, an't shall please you; thies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas in sooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisan

Machabæus.

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits, and present the

other five.

Biron. There is five in the first show.
King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge

priest, the fool, and the boy:

Abate a throw at novum; and the whole world

amain.

again, Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein. King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes [Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies. Enter Costard arm'd, for Pompey.

Cost. I Pompеy ат, -
Boyet.

Cost. I Pompеy ат, -
Boyet.

You lie, you are not he.

With libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be

friends with thee.

Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big, -
Dum. The great.

Cost. It is great, sir; -Pompey surnam'd the

great;

That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat:

And, travelling along this coast, I here am come

by chance;

And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass

of France.

If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, 1

had done.

Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in, great.

Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy.

Enter Nathaniel arm'd, for Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;

By east, west, north, and south, I spread my con

quering might :

Hol. Judas I am,

Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.

Judas I am, ycleped Machabæus.

Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron. A kissing traitor:-How art thou prov'd

Judas?

Hol. Judas I am,

Dum. The more shame for you, Judas.

Hol. What mean you, sir?

Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.
Hol. Begin, sir; you are my elder.

Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on

an elder.

Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Biron. Because thou hast no face.

Hol. What is this?

Boyet. A cittern head.

Dum. The head of a bodkin.

Biron. A death's face in a ring.

Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce

the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the All causes to the purpose of his speed;
child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours.
And often, at his very loose, decides

Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among poten-That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the mourning brow of progeny

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jacque- Forbid the smiling courtesy of love, netta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pom- The holy suit which fain it would convince;

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great, Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,

As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are double.

Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;

And by these badges understand the king.

For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous, -
As love is full of unbefitting strains;
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly cyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true

To those that make us both: -fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,

Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.

long.

Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there;

Prin. We have receiv'd your letters full of love; Impose some service on me for thy love.

Your favours the embassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time:

But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.

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

Long. So did our looks. Ros.

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,
Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts;
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercy of your wit:

To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won,)
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day

We did not quote them so. Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour,

Grant us your loves.
Prin.

A time, methinks, too short

To make a world-without-end bargain in:
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore, this,-
If for my love (as there is no such cause)
You will do aught, this shall you do for me :
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning;
If this austere insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love:
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and till that instant, shut
My woful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation,

For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

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

With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of

death?

(5) Immediate.

When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, some which ought not to have been exhibited, as