Love’s Labours Lost
ACT V SCENE II | The same. | |
Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA | ||
PRINCESS | Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, | |
If fairings come thus plentifully in: | ||
A lady wall’d about with diamonds! | ||
Look you what I have from the loving king. | 5 | |
ROSALINE | Madame, came nothing else along with that? | |
PRINCESS | Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme | |
As would be cramm’d up in a sheet of paper, | ||
Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent and all, | ||
That he was fain to seal on Cupid’s name. | 10 | |
ROSALINE | That was the way to make his godhead wax, | |
For he hath been five thousand years a boy. | ||
KATHARINE | Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. | |
ROSALINE | You’ll ne’er be friends with him; a’ kill’d your sister. | |
KATHARINE | He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; | 15 |
And so she died: had she been light, like you, | ||
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, | ||
She might ha’ been a grandam ere she died: | ||
And so may you; for a light heart lives long. | ||
ROSALINE | What’s your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? | 20 |
KATHARINE | A light condition in a beauty dark. | |
ROSALINE | We need more light to find your meaning out. | |
KATHARINE | You’ll mar the light by taking it in snuff; | |
Therefore I’ll darkly end the argument. | ||
ROSALINE | Look what you do, you do it still i’ the dark. | 25 |
KATHARINE | So do not you, for you are a light wench. | |
ROSALINE | Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light. | |
KATHARINE | You weigh me not? O, that’s you care not for me. | |
ROSALINE | Great reason; for ‘past cure is still past care.’ | |
PRINCESS | Well bandied both; a set of wit well play’d. | 30 |
But Rosaline, you have a favour too: | ||
Who sent it? and what is it? | ||
ROSALINE | I would you knew: | |
An if my face were but as fair as yours, | ||
My favour were as great; be witness this. | 35 | |
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron: | ||
The numbers true; and, were the numbering too, | ||
I were the fairest goddess on the ground: | ||
I am compared to twenty thousand fairs. | ||
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter! | 40 | |
PRINCESS | Any thing like? | |
ROSALINE | Much in the letters; nothing in the praise. | |
PRINCESS | Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion. | |
KATHARINE | Fair as a text B in a copy-book. | |
ROSALINE | ‘Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor, | 45 |
My red dominical, my golden letter: | ||
O, that your face were not so full of O’s! | ||
KATHARINE | A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows. | |
PRINCESS | But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain? | |
KATHARINE | Madam, this glove. | 50 |
PRINCESS | Did he not send you twain? | |
KATHARINE | Yes, madam, and moreover | |
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover, | ||
A huge translation of hypocrisy, | ||
Vilely compiled, profound simplicity. | 55 | |
MARIA | This and these pearls to me sent Longaville: | |
The letter is too long by half a mile. | ||
PRINCESS | I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart | |
The chain were longer and the letter short? | ||
MARIA | Ay, or I would these hands might never part. | 60 |
PRINCESS | We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. | |
ROSALINE | They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. | |
That same Biron I’ll torture ere I go: | ||
O that I knew he were but in by the week! | ||
How I would make him fawn and beg and seek | 65 | |
And wait the season and observe the times | ||
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes | ||
And shape his service wholly to my hests | ||
And make him proud to make me proud that jests! | ||
So perttaunt-like would I o’ersway his state | 70 | |
That he should be my fool and I his fate. | ||
PRINCESS | None are so surely caught, when they are catch’d, | |
As wit turn’d fool: folly, in wisdom hatch’d, | ||
Hath wisdom’s warrant and the help of school | ||
And wit’s own grace to grace a learned fool. | 75 | |
ROSALINE | The blood of youth burns not with such excess | |
As gravity’s revolt to wantonness. | ||
MARIA | Folly in fools bears not so strong a note | |
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote; | ||
Since all the power thereof it doth apply | 80 | |
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity. | ||
PRINCESS | Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. | |
Enter BOYET | ||
BOYET | O, I am stabb’d with laughter! Where’s her grace? | |
PRINCESS | Thy news Boyet? | |
BOYET | Prepare, madam, prepare! | 85 |
Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are | ||
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised, | ||
Armed in arguments; you’ll be surprised: | ||
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; | ||
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. | 90 | |
PRINCESS | Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they | |
That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say. | ||
BOYET | Under the cool shade of a sycamore | |
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour; | ||
When, lo! to interrupt my purposed rest, | 95 | |
Toward that shade I might behold addrest | ||
The king and his companions: warily | ||
I stole into a neighbour thicket by, | ||
And overheard what you shall overhear, | ||
That, by and by, disguised they will be here. | 100 | |
Their herald is a pretty knavish page, | ||
That well by heart hath conn’d his embassage: | ||
Action and accent did they teach him there; | ||
‘Thus must thou speak,’ and ‘thus thy body bear:’ | ||
And ever and anon they made a doubt | 105 | |
Presence majestical would put him out, | ||
‘For,’ quoth the king, ‘an angel shalt thou see; | ||
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.’ | ||
The boy replied, ‘An angel is not evil; | ||
I should have fear’d her had she been a devil.’ | 110 | |
With that, all laugh’d and clapp’d him on the shoulder, | ||
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder: | ||
One rubb’d his elbow thus, and fleer’d and swore | ||
A better speech was never spoke before; | ||
Another, with his finger and his thumb, | 115 | |
Cried, ‘Via! we will do’t, come what will come;’ | ||
The third he caper’d, and cried, ‘All goes well;’ | ||
The fourth turn’d on the toe, and down he fell. | ||
With that, they all did tumble on the ground, | ||
With such a zealous laughter, so profound, | 120 | |
That in this spleen ridiculous appears, | ||
To cheque their folly, passion’s solemn tears. | ||
PRINCESS | But what, but what, come they to visit us? | |
BOYET | They do, they do: and are apparell’d thus. | |
Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess. | 125 | |
Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance; | ||
And every one his love-feat will advance | ||
Unto his several mistress, which they’ll know | ||
By favours several which they did bestow. | ||
PRINCESS | And will they so? the gallants shall be task’d; | 130 |
For, ladies, we shall every one be mask’d; | ||
And not a man of them shall have the grace, | ||
Despite 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; | 135 | |
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine, | ||
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline. | ||
And change your favours too; so shall your loves | ||
Woo contrary, deceived by these removes. | ||
ROSALINE | Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight. | 140 |
KATHARINE | But in this changing what is your intent? | |
PRINCESS | The effect of my intent is to cross theirs: | |
They do it but in mocking merriment; | ||
And mock for mock is only my intent. | ||
Their several counsels they unbosom shall | 145 | |
To loves mistook, and so be mock’d withal | ||
Upon the next occasion that we meet, | ||
With visages displayed, to talk and greet. | ||
ROSALINE | But shall we dance, if they desire to’t? | |
PRINCESS | No, to the death, we will not move a foot; | 150 |
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 heart, | |
And quite divorce his memory from his part. | ||
PRINCESS | Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt | 155 |
The rest will ne’er come in, if he be out | ||
There’s no such sport as sport by sport o’erthrown, | ||
To make theirs ours and ours none but our own: | ||
So shall we stay, mocking intended game, | ||
And they, well mock’d, depart away with shame. | 160 | |
Trumpets sound within | ||
BOYET | The trumpet sounds: be mask’d; the maskers come. | |
The Ladies mask | ||
Enter Blackamoors with music; MOTH; FERDINAND,BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in Russian habits,and masked | ||
MOTH | All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!– | |
BOYET | Beauties no richer than rich taffeta. | |
MOTH | A holy parcel of the fairest dames. | |
The Ladies turn their backs to him | ||
That ever turn’d their–backs–to mortal views! | 165 | |
BIRON | Aside to MOTH | |
MOTH | That ever turn’d their eyes to mortal views!–Out– | |
BOYET | True; out indeed. | |
MOTH | Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe | |
Not to behold– | ||
BIRON | Aside to MOTH | |
MOTH | Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes, | 170 |
–with your sun-beamed eyes– | ||
BOYET | They will not answer to that epithet; | |
You were best call it ‘daughter-beamed eyes.’ | ||
MOTH | They do not mark me, and that brings me out. | |
BIRON | Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue! | 175 |
Exit MOTH | ||
ROSALINE | What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet: | |
If they do speak our language, ’tis our will: | ||
That some plain man recount their purposes | ||
Know what they would. | ||
BOYET | What would you with the princess? | 180 |
BIRON | Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. | |
ROSALINE | What would they, say they? | |
BOYET | Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. | |
ROSALINE | Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. | |
BOYET | She says, you have it, and you may be gone. | 185 |
FERDINAND | Say to her, we have measured many miles | |
To tread a measure with her on this grass. | ||
BOYET | They say, that they have measured many a mile | |
To tread a measure with you on this grass. | ||
ROSALINE | It is not so. Ask them how many inches | 190 |
Is in one mile: if they have measured many, | ||
The measure then of one is easily told. | ||
BOYET | If to come hither you have measured miles, | |
And many miles, the princess bids you tell | ||
How many inches doth fill up one mile. | 195 | |
BIRON | Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. | |
BOYET | She hears herself. | |
ROSALINE | How many weary steps, | |
Of many weary miles you have o’ergone, | ||
Are number’d in the travel of one mile? | 200 | |
BIRON | We number nothing that we spend for you: | |
Our duty is so rich, so infinite, | ||
That we may do it still without accompt. | ||
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face, | ||
That we, like savages, may worship it. | 205 | |
ROSALINE | My face is but a moon, and clouded too. | |
FERDINAND | Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! | |
Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine, | ||
Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne. | ||
ROSALINE | O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; | 210 |
Thou now request’st but moonshine in the water. | ||
FERDINAND | Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change. | |
Thou bid’st me beg: this begging is not strange. | ||
ROSALINE | Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon. | |
Music plays | ||
Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon. | 215 | |
FERDINAND | Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? | |
ROSALINE | You took the moon at full, but now she’s changed. | |
FERDINAND | Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. | |
The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. | ||
ROSALINE | Our ears vouchsafe it. | 220 |
FERDINAND | But your legs should do it. | |
ROSALINE | Since you are strangers and come here by chance, | |
We’ll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance. | ||
FERDINAND | Why take we hands, then? | |
ROSALINE | Only to part friends: | 225 |
Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. | ||
FERDINAND | More measure of this measure; be not nice. | |
ROSALINE | We can afford no more at such a price. | |
FERDINAND | Prize you yourselves: what buys your company? | |
ROSALINE | Your absence only. | 230 |
FERDINAND | That can never be. | |
ROSALINE | Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu; | |
Twice to your visor, and half once to you. | ||
FERDINAND | If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat. | |
ROSALINE | In private, then. | 235 |
FERDINAND | I am best pleased with that. | |
They converse apart | ||
BIRON | White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. | |
PRINCESS | Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. | |
BIRON | Nay then, two treys, and if you grow so nice, | |
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice! | 240 | |
There’s half-a-dozen sweets. | ||
PRINCESS | Seventh sweet, adieu: | |
Since you can cog, I’ll play no more with you. | ||
BIRON | One word in secret. | |
PRINCESS | Let it not be sweet. | 245 |
BIRON | Thou grievest my gall. | |
PRINCESS | Gall! bitter. | |
BIRON | Therefore meet. | |
They converse apart | ||
DUMAIN | Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? | |
MARIA | Name it. | 250 |
DUMAIN | Fair lady,– | |
MARIA | Say you so? Fair lord,– | |
Take that for your fair lady. | ||
DUMAIN | Please it you, | |
As much in private, and I’ll bid adieu. | 255 | |
They converse apart | ||
KATHARINE | What, was your vizard made without a tongue? | |
LONGAVILLE | I know the reason, lady, why you ask. | |
KATHARINE | O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long. | |
LONGAVILLE | You have a double tongue within your mask, | |
And would afford my speechless vizard half. | 260 | |
KATHARINE | Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not ‘veal’ a calf? | |
LONGAVILLE | A calf, fair lady! | |
KATHARINE | No, a fair lord calf. | |
LONGAVILLE | Let’s part the word. | |
KATHARINE | No, I’ll not be your half | 265 |
Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. | ||
LONGAVILLE | Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks! | |
Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. | ||
KATHARINE | Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. | |
LONGAVILLE | One word in private with you, ere I die. | 270 |
KATHARINE | Bleat softly then; the butcher hears you cry. | |
They converse apart | ||
BOYET | The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen | |
As is the razor’s edge invisible, | ||
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen, | ||
Above the sense of sense; so sensible | 275 | |
Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings | ||
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. | ||
ROSALINE | Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. | |
BIRON | By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! | |
FERDINAND | Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. | 280 |
PRINCESS | Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. | |
Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors | ||
Are these the breed of wits so wonder’d at? | ||
BOYET | Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff’d out. | |
ROSALINE | Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. | |
PRINCESS | O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! | 285 |
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight? | ||
Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces? | ||
This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. | ||
ROSALINE | O, they were all in lamentable cases! | |
The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. | 290 | |
PRINCESS | Biron did swear himself out of all suit. | |
MARIA | Dumain was at my service, and his sword: | |
No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute. | ||
KATHARINE | Lord Longaville said, I came o’er his heart; | |
And trow you what he called me? | 295 | |
PRINCESS | Qualm, perhaps. | |
KATHARINE | Yes, in good faith. | |
PRINCESS | Go, sickness as thou art! | |
ROSALINE | Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. | |
But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. | 300 | |
PRINCESS | And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me. | |
KATHARINE | And Longaville was for my service born. | |
MARIA | Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. | |
BOYET | Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear: | |
Immediately they will again be here | 305 | |
In their own shapes; for it can never be | ||
They will digest this harsh indignity. | ||
PRINCESS | Will they return? | |
BOYET | They will, they will, God knows, | |
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows: | 310 | |
Therefore change favours; and, when they repair, | ||
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air. | ||
PRINCESS | How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. | |
BOYET | Fair ladies mask’d are roses in their bud; | |
Dismask’d, their damask sweet commixture shown, | 315 | |
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. | ||
PRINCESS | Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, | |
If they return in their own shapes to woo? | ||
ROSALINE | Good madam, if by me you’ll be advised, | |
Let’s, mock them still, as well known as disguised: | 320 | |
Let us complain to them what fools were here, | ||
Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; | ||
And wonder what they were and to what end | ||
Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn’d | ||
And their rough carriage so ridiculous, | 325 | |
Should be presented at our tent to us. | ||
BOYET | Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand. | |
PRINCESS | Whip to our tents, as roes run o’er land. | |
Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA | ||
Re-enter FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN,in their proper habits | ||
FERDINAND | Fair sir, God save you! Where’s the princess? | |
BOYET | Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty | 330 |
Command me any service to her thither? | ||
FERDINAND | That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. | |
BOYET | I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. | |
Exit | ||
BIRON | This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease, | |
And utters it again when God doth please: | 335 | |
He is wit’s pedler, and retails his wares | ||
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; | ||
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, | ||
Have not the grace to grace it with such show. | ||
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; | 340 | |
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve; | ||
A’ can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he | ||
That kiss’d his hand away in courtesy; | ||
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, | ||
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice | 345 | |
In honourable terms: nay, he can sing | ||
A mean most meanly; 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, | 350 | |
To show his teeth as white as whale’s bone; | ||
And consciences, that will not die in debt, | ||
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet. | ||
FERDINAND | A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, | |
That put Armado’s page out of his part! | 355 | |
BIRON | See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou | |
Till this madman show’d thee? and what art thou now? | ||
Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET, ROSALINE,MARIA, and KATHARINE | ||
FERDINAND | All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! | |
PRINCESS | ‘Fair’ in ‘all hail’ is foul, as I conceive. | |
FERDINAND | Construe my speeches better, if you may. | 360 |
PRINCESS | Then wish me better; I will give you leave. | |
FERDINAND | We came to visit you, and purpose now | |
To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. | ||
PRINCESS | This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow: | |
Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men. | 365 | |
FERDINAND | Rebuke me not for that which you provoke: | |
The virtue of your eye must break my oath. | ||
PRINCESS | You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke; | |
For virtue’s office never breaks men’s troth. | ||
Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure | 370 | |
As the unsullied lily, I protest, | ||
A world of torments though I should endure, | ||
I would not yield to be your house’s guest; | ||
So much I hate a breaking cause to be | ||
Of heavenly oaths, vow’d with integrity. | 375 | |
FERDINAND | O, you have lived in desolation here, | |
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. | ||
PRINCESS | Not so, 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. | 380 | |
FERDINAND | How, madam! Russians! | |
PRINCESS | Ay, in truth, my lord; | |
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. | ||
ROSALINE | Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord: | |
My lady, to the manner of the days, | 385 | |
In courtesy gives undeserving praise. | ||
We four indeed confronted were with four | ||
In Russian habit: here they stay’d an hour, | ||
And talk’d apace; and in that hour, my lord, | ||
They did not bless us with one happy word. | 390 | |
I dare not call them fools; but this I think, | ||
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. | ||
BIRON | This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet, | |
Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet, | ||
With eyes best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye, | 395 | |
By light we lose light: your capacity | ||
Is of that nature that to your huge store | ||
Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor. | ||
ROSALINE | This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,– | |
BIRON | I am a fool, and full of poverty. | 400 |
ROSALINE | But that you take what doth to you belong, | |
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. | ||
BIRON | O, I am yours, and all that I possess! | |
ROSALINE | All the fool mine? | |
BIRON | I cannot give you less. | 405 |
ROSALINE | Which of the vizards was it that you wore? | |
BIRON | Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this? | |
ROSALINE | There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case | |
That hid the worse and show’d the better face. | ||
FERDINAND | We are descried; they’ll mock us now downright. | 410 |
DUMAIN | Let us confess and turn it to a jest. | |
PRINCESS | Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad? | |
ROSALINE | Help, hold his brows! he’ll swoon! Why look you pale? | |
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. | ||
BIRON | Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. | 415 |
Can any face of brass hold longer out? | ||
Here stand I 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; | 420 | |
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 schoolboy’s tongue, | ||
Nor never come in vizard to my friend, | 425 | |
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper’s song! | ||
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, | ||
Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, | ||
Figures pedantical; these summer-flies | ||
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: | 430 | |
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!– | 435 | |
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw. | ||
ROSALINE | Sans sans, I pray you. | |
BIRON | Yet I have a trick | |
Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick; | ||
I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see: | 440 | |
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 see. | 445 | |
PRINCESS | No, they are free that gave these tokens to us. | |
BIRON | Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us. | |
ROSALINE | It is not so; for how can this be true, | |
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? | ||
BIRON | Peace! for I will not have to do with you. | 450 |
ROSALINE | Nor shall not, if I do as I intend. | |
BIRON | Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end. | |
FERDINAND | Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression | |
Some fair excuse. | ||
PRINCESS | The fairest is confession. | 455 |
Were not you here but even now disguised? | ||
FERDINAND | Madam, I was. | |
PRINCESS | And were you well advised? | |
FERDINAND | I was, fair madam. | |
PRINCESS | When you then were here, | 460 |
What did you whisper in your lady’s ear? | ||
FERDINAND | That more than all the world I did respect her. | |
PRINCESS | When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. | |
FERDINAND | Upon mine honour, no. | |
PRINCESS | Peace, peace! forbear: | 465 |
Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. | ||
FERDINAND | Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. | |
PRINCESS | I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline, | |
What did the Russian whisper in your ear? | ||
ROSALINE | Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear | 470 |
As precious eyesight, and did value me | ||
Above this world; adding thereto moreover | ||
That he would wed me, or else die my lover. | ||
PRINCESS | God give thee joy of him! the noble lord | |
Most honourably doth unhold his word. | 475 | |
FERDINAND | What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth, | |
I never swore this lady such an oath. | ||
ROSALINE | By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, | |
You gave me this: but take it, sir, again. | ||
FERDINAND | My faith and this the princess I did give: | 480 |
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. | ||
PRINCESS | Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; | |
And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear. | ||
What, will you have me, or your pearl again? | ||
BIRON | Neither of either; I remit both twain. | 485 |
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, | ||
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick, | 490 | |
That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick | ||
To make my lady laugh when she’s disposed, | ||
Told our intents before; which once disclosed, | ||
The ladies did change favours: and then we, | ||
Following the signs, woo’d but the sign of she. | 495 | |
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 | ||
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue? | ||
Do not you know my lady’s foot by the squier, | 500 | |
And laugh upon the apple of her eye? | ||
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire, | ||
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily? | ||
You put our page out: go, you are allow’d; | ||
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud. | 505 | |
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. | 510 |
Enter COSTARD | ||
Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray. | ||
COSTARD | O Lord, sir, they would know | |
Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no. | ||
BIRON | What, are there but three? | |
COSTARD | No, sir; but it is vara fine, | 515 |
For every one pursents three. | ||
BIRON | And three times thrice is nine. | |
COSTARD | Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope it is not so. | |
You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir we know | ||
what we know: | 520 | |
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,– | ||
BIRON | Is not nine. | |
COSTARD | Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount. | |
BIRON | By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. | |
COSTARD | O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living | 525 |
by reckoning, sir. | ||
BIRON | How much is it? | |
COSTARD | O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, | |
sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine | ||
own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man | 530 | |
in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir. | ||
BIRON | Art thou one of the Worthies? | |
COSTARD | 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. | 535 | |
BIRON | Go, bid them prepare. | |
COSTARD | We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take | |
some care. | ||
Exit | ||
FERDINAND | Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach. | |
BIRON | We are shame-proof, my lord: and tis some policy | 540 |
To have one show worse than the king’s and his company. | ||
FERDINAND | I say they shall not come. | |
PRINCESS | Nay, my good lord, let me o’errule you now: | |
That sport best pleases that doth least know how: | ||
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents | 545 | |
Dies in the zeal of that 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 DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal | 550 |
sweet breath as will utter a brace of words. | ||
Converses apart with FERDINAND, and delivers him a paper | ||
PRINCESS | Doth this man serve God? | |
BIRON | Why ask you? | |
PRINCESS | He speaks not like a man of God’s making. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, | 555 |
I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding | ||
fantastical; too, too vain, too too vain: but we | ||
will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. | ||
I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement! | ||
Exit | ||
FERDINAND | Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He | 560 |
presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the | ||
Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado’s page, | ||
Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus: And if | ||
these four Worthies in their first show thrive, | ||
These four will change habits, and present the other five. | 565 | |
BIRON | There is five in the first show. | |
FERDINAND | You are deceived; ’tis not so. | |
BIRON | The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool | |
and the boy:– | ||
Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again | 570 | |
Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein. | ||
FERDINAND | The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. | |
Enter COSTARD, for Pompey | ||
COSTARD | I Pompey am,– | |
BOYET | You lie, you are not he. | |
COSTARD | I Pompey am,– | 575 |
BOYET | With libbard’s head on knee. | |
BIRON | Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends | |
with thee. | ||
COSTARD | I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big– | |
DUMAIN | The Great. | 580 |
COSTARD | It is, ‘Great,’ sir:– | |
Pompey surnamed 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, | 585 | |
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France, | ||
If your ladyship would say, ‘Thanks, Pompey,’ I had done. | ||
PRINCESS | Great thanks, great Pompey. | |
COSTARD | ‘Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect: I | |
made a little fault in ‘Great.’ | 590 | |
BIRON | My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy. | |
Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander | ||
SIR NATHANIEL | When in the world I lived, I was the world’s | |
commander; | ||
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my | ||
conquering might: | 595 | |
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander,– | ||
BOYET | Your nose says, no, you are not for it stands too right. | |
BIRON | Your nose smells ‘no’ in this, most tender-smelling knight. | |
PRINCESS | The conqueror is dismay’d. Proceed, good Alexander. | |
SIR NATHANIEL | When in the world I lived, I was the world’s | 600 |
commander,– | ||
BOYET | Most true, ’tis right; you were so, Alisander. | |
BIRON | Pompey the Great,– | |
COSTARD | Your servant, and Costard. | |
BIRON | Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander. | 605 |
COSTARD | To SIR NATHANIEL | |
Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of | ||
the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds | ||
his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given | ||
to Ajax: he will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror, | ||
and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. | 610 | |
SIR NATHANIEL retires | ||
There, an’t shall please you; a foolish mild man; an | ||
honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a | ||
marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good | ||
bowler: but, for Alisander,–alas, you see how | ||
’tis,–a little o’erparted. But there are Worthies | 615 | |
a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort. | ||
Enter HOLOFERNES, for Judas; and MOTH, for Hercules | ||
HOLOFERNES | Great Hercules is presented by this imp, | |
Whose club kill’d Cerberus, that three-headed canis; | ||
And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, | ||
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus. | 620 | |
Quoniam he seemeth in minority, | ||
Ergo I come with this apology. | ||
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. | ||
MOTH retires | ||
Judas I am,– | ||
DUMAIN | A Judas! | 625 |
HOLOFERNES | Not Iscariot, sir. | |
Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus. | ||
DUMAIN | Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas. | |
BIRON | A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas? | |
HOLOFERNES | Judas I am,– | 630 |
DUMAIN | The more shame for you, Judas. | |
HOLOFERNES | What mean you, sir? | |
BOYET | To make Judas hang himself. | |
HOLOFERNES | Begin, sir; you are my elder. | |
BIRON | Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder. | 635 |
HOLOFERNES | I will not be put out of countenance. | |
BIRON | Because thou hast no face. | |
HOLOFERNES | What is this? | |
BOYET | A cittern-head. | |
DUMAIN | The head of a bodkin. | 640 |
BIRON | A Death’s face in a ring. | |
LONGAVILLE | The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen. | |
BOYET | The pommel of Caesar’s falchion. | |
DUMAIN | The carved-bone face on a flask. | |
BIRON | Saint George’s half-cheek in a brooch. | 645 |
DUMAIN | Ay, and in a brooch of lead. | |
BIRON | Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. | |
And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance. | ||
HOLOFERNES | You have put me out of countenance. | |
BIRON | False; we have given thee faces. | 650 |
HOLOFERNES | But you have out-faced them all. | |
BIRON | An thou wert a lion, we would do so. | |
BOYET | Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go. | |
And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay? | ||
DUMAIN | For the latter end of his name. | 655 |
BIRON | For the ass to the Jude; give it him:–Jud-as, away! | |
HOLOFERNES | This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. | |
BOYET | A light for Monsieur Judas! it grows dark, he may stumble. | |
HOLOFERNES retires | ||
PRINCESS | Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited! | |
Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, for Hector | ||
BIRON | Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms. | 660 |
DUMAIN | Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry. | |
FERDINAND | Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this. | |
BOYET | But is this Hector? | |
FERDINAND | I think Hector was not so clean-timbered. | |
LONGAVILLE | His leg is too big for Hector’s. | 665 |
DUMAIN | More calf, certain. | |
BOYET | No; he is best endued in the small. | |
BIRON | This cannot be Hector. | |
DUMAIN | He’s a god or a painter; for he makes faces. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, | 670 |
Gave Hector a gift,– | ||
DUMAIN | A gilt nutmeg. | |
BIRON | A lemon. | |
LONGAVILLE | Stuck with cloves. | |
DUMAIN | No, cloven. | 675 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Peace!– | |
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty | ||
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion; | ||
A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea | ||
From morn till night, out of his pavilion. | 680 | |
I am that flower,– | ||
DUMAIN | That mint. | |
LONGAVILLE | That columbine. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. | |
LONGAVILLE | I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector. | 685 |
DUMAIN | Ay, and Hector’s a greyhound. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, | |
beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed, | ||
he was a man. But I will forward with my device. | ||
To the PRINCESS | ||
Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing. | 690 | |
PRINCESS | Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I do adore thy sweet grace’s slipper. | |
BOYET | Aside to DUMAIN | |
DUMAIN | Aside to BOYET | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,– | |
COSTARD | The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she | |
is two months on her way. | 695 | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | What meanest thou? | |
COSTARD | Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor | |
wench is cast away: she’s quick; the child brags in | ||
her belly already: tis yours. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt | 700 |
die. | ||
COSTARD | Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is | |
quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by | ||
him. | ||
DUMAIN | Most rare Pompey! | 705 |
BOYET | Renowned Pompey! | |
BIRON | Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! | |
Pompey the Huge! | ||
DUMAIN | Hector trembles. | |
BIRON | Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them | 710 |
on! stir them on! | ||
DUMAIN | Hector will challenge him. | |
BIRON | Ay, if a’ have no man’s blood in’s belly than will | |
sup a flea. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | By the north pole, I do challenge thee. | 715 |
COSTARD | I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: | |
I’ll slash; I’ll do it by the sword. I bepray you, | ||
let me borrow my arms again. | ||
DUMAIN | Room for the incensed Worthies! | |
COSTARD | I’ll do it in my shirt. | 720 |
DUMAIN | Most resolute Pompey! | |
MOTH | Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you | |
not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean | ||
you? You will lose your reputation. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat | 725 |
in my shirt. | ||
DUMAIN | You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Sweet bloods, I both may and will. | |
BIRON | What reason have you for’t? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go | 730 |
woolward for penance. | ||
BOYET | True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of | |
linen: since when, I’ll be sworn, he wore none but | ||
a dishclout of Jaquenetta’s, and that a’ wears next | ||
his heart for a favour. | 735 | |
Enter MERCADE | ||
MERCADE | God save you, madam! | |
PRINCESS | Welcome, Mercade; | |
But that thou interrupt’st our merriment. | ||
MERCADE | I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring | |
Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father– | 740 | |
PRINCESS | Dead, for my life! | |
MERCADE | Even so; my tale is told. | |
BIRON | Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have | |
seen the day of wrong through the little hole of | 745 | |
discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. | ||
Exeunt Worthies | ||
FERDINAND | How fares your majesty? | |
PRINCESS | Boyet, prepare; I will away tonight. | |
FERDINAND | Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. | |
PRINCESS | Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords, | 750 |
For all your fair endeavors; and entreat, | ||
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe | ||
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide | ||
The liberal opposition of our spirits, | ||
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves | 755 | |
In the converse of breath: your gentleness | ||
Was guilty of it. Farewell worthy lord! | ||
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue: | ||
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks | ||
For my great suit so easily obtain’d. | 760 | |
FERDINAND | The extreme parts of time extremely forms | |
All causes to the purpose of his speed, | ||
And often at his very loose decides | ||
That which long process could not arbitrate: | ||
And though the mourning brow of progeny | 765 | |
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love | ||
The holy suit which fain it would convince, | ||
Yet, since love’s argument was first on foot, | ||
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it | ||
From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost | 770 | |
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable | ||
As to rejoice at friends but newly found. | ||
PRINCESS | 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. | 775 | |
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,– | 780 | |
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 | 785 | |
To every varied object in his glance: | ||
Which parti-coated presence of loose love | ||
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes, | ||
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities, | ||
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults, | 790 | |
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: | 795 | |
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin, | ||
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace. | ||
PRINCESS | We have received your letters full of love; | |
Your favours, the ambassadors of love; | ||
And, in our maiden council, rated them | 800 | |
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. | 805 | |
DUMAIN | Our letters, madam, show’d much more than jest. | |
LONGAVILLE | So did our looks. | |
ROSALINE | We did not quote them so. | |
FERDINAND | Now, at the latest minute of the hour, | |
Grant us your loves. | 810 | |
PRINCESS | A time, methinks, too short | |
To make a world-without-end bargain in. | ||
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much, | ||
Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this: | ||
If for my love, as there is no such cause, | 815 | |
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 | 820 | |
Have brought about the 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, | 825 | |
But that it bear this trial and last love; | ||
Then, at the expiration of the year, | ||
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts, | ||
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine | ||
I will be thine; and till that instant shut | 830 | |
My woeful 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 entitled in the other’s heart. | 835 | |
FERDINAND | 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 ever then my heart is in thy breast. | ||
BIRON | And what to me, my love? and what to me?ROSALINE You must be purged too, your sins are rack’d,You are attaint with faults and perjury:Therefore if you my favour mean to get,A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,But seek the weary beds of people si | |
DUMAIN | But what to me, my love? but what to me? A wife? | 840 |
KATHARINE | A beard, fair health, and honesty; | |
With three-fold love I wish you all these three. | ||
DUMAIN | O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? | |
KATHARINE | Not so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day | |
I’ll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say: | 845 | |
Come when the king doth to my lady come; | ||
Then, if I have much love, I’ll give you some. | ||
DUMAIN | I’ll serve thee true and faithfully till then. | |
KATHARINE | Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again. | |
LONGAVILLE | What says Maria? | 850 |
MARIA | At the twelvemonth’s end | |
I’ll change my black gown for a faithful friend. | ||
LONGAVILLE | I’ll stay with patience; but the time is long. | |
MARIA | The liker you; few taller are so young. | |
BIRON | Studies my lady? mistress, look on me; | 855 |
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, | ||
What humble suit attends thy answer there: | ||
Impose some service on me for thy love. | ||
ROSALINE | Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron, | |
Before I saw you; and the world’s large tongue | 860 | |
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, | 865 | |
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 | ||
Visit the speechless sick and still converse | ||
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, | 870 | |
With all the fierce endeavor of your wit | ||
To enforce the pained impotent to smile. | ||
BIRON | To move wild laughter in the throat of death? | |
It cannot be; it is impossible: | ||
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. | 875 | |
ROSALINE | Why, that’s the way to choke a gibing spirit, | |
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace | ||
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: | ||
A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear | ||
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue | 880 | |
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, | ||
Deaf’d with the clamours of their own dear groans, | ||
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, | ||
And I will have you and that fault withal; | ||
But if they will not, throw away that spirit, | 885 | |
And I shall find you empty of that fault, | ||
Right joyful of your reformation. | ||
BIRON | A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall, | |
I’ll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. | ||
PRINCESS | To FERDINAND | |
FERDINAND | No, madam; we will bring you on your way. | 890 |
BIRON | Our wooing doth not end like an old play; | |
Jack hath not Jill: these ladies’ courtesy | ||
Might well have made our sport a comedy. | ||
FERDINAND | Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, | |
And then ’twill end. | 895 | |
BIRON | That’s too long for a play. | |
Re-enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,– | |
PRINCESS | Was not that Hector? | |
DUMAIN | The worthy knight of Troy. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am | 900 |
a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the | ||
plough for her sweet love three years. But, most | ||
esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that | ||
the two learned men have compiled in praise of the | ||
owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the | 905 | |
end of our show. | ||
FERDINAND | Call them forth quickly; we will do so. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Holla! approach. | |
Re-enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD,and others | ||
This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring; | ||
the one maintained by the owl, the other by the | 910 | |
cuckoo. Ver, begin. | ||
THE SONG | ||
SPRING. | ||
When daisies pied and violets blue | ||
And lady-smocks all silver-white | 915 | |
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue | ||
Do paint the meadows with delight, | ||
The cuckoo then, on every tree, | ||
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; | ||
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, | 920 | |
Unpleasing to a married ear! | ||
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws | ||
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks, | ||
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, | ||
And maidens bleach their summer smocks | 925 | |
The cuckoo then, on every tree, | ||
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; | ||
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, | ||
Unpleasing to a married ear! | ||
930 | ||
WINTER. | ||
When icicles hang by the wall | ||
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail | ||
And Tom bears logs into the hall | ||
And milk comes frozen home in pail, | 935 | |
When blood is nipp’d and ways be foul, | ||
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; | ||
Tu-who, a merry note, | ||
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. | ||
When all aloud the wind doth blow | 940 | |
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw | ||
And birds sit brooding in the snow | ||
And Marian’s nose looks red and raw, | ||
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, | ||
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; | 945 | |
Tu-who, a merry note, | ||
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of | |
Apollo. You that way: we this way. | ||
Exeunt |