Title: Love's Labour's Lost
Author: William Shakespeare
Release date: November 1, 1997 [eBook #1109]
Most recently updated: November 3, 2023
Loues Labour's lost
Enter Ferdinand King of Nauarre, Berowne, Longauill, and
Ferdinand. Let Fame, that all hunt after in their liues,
Liue registred vpon our brazen Tombes,
And then grace vs in the disgrace of death:
when spight of cormorant deuouring Time,
Th' endeuour of this present breath may buy:
That honour which shall bate his sythes keene edge,
And make vs heyres of all eternitie.
Therefore braue Conquerours, for so you are,
That warre against your owne affections,
And the huge Armie of the worlds desires.
Our late edict shall strongly stand in force,
Nauar shall be the wonder of the world.
Our Court shall be a little Achademe,
Still and contemplatiue in liuing Art.
You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longauill,
Haue sworne for three yeeres terme, to liue with me:
My fellow Schollers, and to keepe those statutes
That are recorded in this scedule heere.
Your oathes are past, and now subscribe your names:
That his owne hand may strike his honour downe,
That violates the smallest branch heerein:
If you are arm'd to doe, as sworne to do,
Subscribe to your deepe oathes, and keepe it to
Longauill. I am resolu'd, 'tis but a three yeeres fast:
The minde shall banquet, though the body pine,
Fat paunches haue leane pates: and dainty bits,
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits
Dumane. My louing Lord, Dumane is mortified,
The grosser manner of these worlds delights,
He throwes vpon the grosse worlds baser slaues:
To loue, to wealth, to pompe, I pine and die,
With all these liuing in Philosophie
Berowne. I can but say their protestation ouer,
So much, deare Liege, I haue already sworne,
That is, to liue and study heere three yeeres.
But there are other strict obseruances:
As not to see a woman in that terme,
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
And one day in a weeke to touch no foode:
And but one meale on euery day beside:
The which I hope is not enrolled there.
And then to sleepe but three houres in the night,
And not be seene to winke of all the day.
When I was wont to thinke no harme all night,
And make a darke night too of halfe the day:
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
O, these are barren taskes, too hard to keepe,
Not to see Ladies, study, fast, not sleepe
Ferd. Your oath is past, to passe away from these
Berow. Let me say no my Liedge, and if you please,
I onely swore to study with your grace,
And stay heere in your Court for three yeeres space
Longa. You swore to that Berowne, and to the rest
Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest.
What is the end of study, let me know?
Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not
Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) fro[m] co[m]mon sense
Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence
Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus, to study where I well may dine,
When I to fast expressely am forbid.
Or studie where to meete some Mistresse fine,
When Mistresses from common sense are hid.
Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath,
Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth.
If studies gaine be thus, and this be so,
Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know,
Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no
Ferd. These be the stops that hinder studie quite,
And traine our intellects to vaine delight
Ber. Why? all delights are vaine, and that most vaine
Which with paine purchas'd, doth inherit paine,
As painefully to poare vpon a Booke,
To seeke the light of truth, while truth the while
Doth falsely blinde the eye-sight of his looke:
Light seeking light, doth light of light beguile:
So ere you finde where light in darkenesse lies,
Your light growes darke by losing of your eyes.
Studie me how to please the eye indeede,
By fixing it vpon a fairer eye,
Who dazling so, that eye shall be his heed,
And giue him light that it was blinded by.
Studie is like the heauens glorious Sunne,
That will not be deepe search'd with sawcy lookes:
Small haue continuall plodders euer wonne,
Saue base authoritie from others Bookes.
These earthly Godfathers of heauens lights,
That giue a name to euery fixed Starre,
Haue no more profit of their shining nights,
Then those that walke and wot not what they are.
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame:
And euery Godfather can giue a name
Fer. How well hee's read, to reason against reading
Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding
Lon. Hee weedes the corne, and still lets grow the
Ber. The Spring is neare when greene geesse are a
Dum. How followes that?
Ber. Fit in his place and time
Dum. In reason nothing
Ber. Something then in rime
Ferd. Berowne is like an enuious sneaping Frost,
That bites the first borne infants of the Spring
Ber. Wel, say I am, why should proud Summer boast,
Before the Birds haue any cause to sing?
Why should I ioy in any abortiue birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a Rose,
Then wish a Snow in Mayes new fangled showes:
But like of each thing that in season growes.
So you to studie now it is too late,
That were to clymbe ore the house to vnlocke the gate
Fer. Well, sit you out: go home Berowne: adue
Ber. No my good Lord, I haue sworn to stay with you.
And though I haue for barbarisme spoke more,
Then for that Angell knowledge you can say,
Yet confident Ile keepe what I haue sworne,
And bide the pennance of each three yeares day.
Giue me the paper, let me reade the same,
And to the strictest decrees Ile write my name
Fer. How well this yeelding rescues thee from shame
Ber. Item. That no woman shall come within a mile
of my Court.
Hath this bin proclaimed?
Lon. Foure dayes agoe
Ber. Let's see the penaltie.
On paine of loosing her tongue.
Who deuis'd this penaltie?
Lon. Marry that did I
Ber. Sweete Lord, and why? Lon. To fright them hence with that dread penaltie, A dangerous law against gentilitie. Item, If any man be seene to talke with a woman within the tearme of three yeares, hee shall indure such publique shame as the rest of the Court shall possibly deuise
Ber. This Article my Liedge your selfe must breake,
For well you know here comes in Embassie
The French Kings daughter, with your selfe to speake:
A Maide of grace and compleate maiestie,
About surrender vp of Aquitaine:
To her decrepit, sicke, and bed-rid Father.
Therefore this Article is made in vaine,
Or vainly comes th' admired Princesse hither
Fer. What say you Lords?
Why, this was quite forgot
Ber. So Studie euermore is ouershot,
While it doth study to haue what it would,
It doth forget to doe the thing it should:
And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
'Tis won as townes with fire, so won, so lost
Fer. We must of force dispence with this Decree,
She must lye here on meere necessitie
Ber. Necessity will make vs all forsworne
Three thousand times within this three yeeres space:
For euery man with his affects is borne,
Not by might mastred, but by speciall grace.
If I breake faith, this word shall breake for me,
I am forsworne on meere necessitie.
So to the Lawes at large I write my name,
And he that breakes them in the least degree,
Stands in attainder of eternall shame.
Suggestions are to others as to me:
But I beleeue although I seeme so loth,
I am the last that will last keepe his oth.
But is there no quicke recreation granted?
Fer. I that there is, our Court you know is hanted
With a refined trauailer of Spaine,
A man in all the worlds new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his braine:
One, who the musicke of his owne vaine tongue,
Doth rauish like inchanting harmonie:
A man of complements whom right and wrong
Haue chose as vmpire of their mutinie.
This childe of fancie that Armado hight,
For interim to our studies shall relate,
In high-borne words the worth of many a Knight:
From tawnie Spaine lost in the worlds debate.
How you delight my Lords, I know not I,
But I protest I loue to heare him lie,
And I will vse him for my Minstrelsie
Bero. Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire, new words, fashions owne Knight
Lon. Costard the swaine and he, shall be our sport,
And so to studie, three yeeres is but short.
Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.
Const. Which is the Dukes owne person
Ber. This fellow, What would'st?
Con. I my selfe reprehend his owne person, for I am
his graces Tharborough: But I would see his own person
in flesh and blood
Ber. This is he
Con. Signeor Arme, Arme commends you:
Ther's villanie abroad, this letter will tell you more
Clow. Sir the Contempts thereof are as touching
Fer. A letter from the magnificent Armado
Ber. How low soeuer the matter, I hope in God for high words
Lon. A high hope for a low heauen, God grant vs patience
Ber. To heare, or forbeare hearing
Lon. To heare meekely sir, and to laugh moderately,
or to forbeare both
Ber. Well sir, be it as the stile shall giue vs cause to
clime in the merrinesse
Clo. The matter is to me sir, as concerning Iaquenetta.
The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner
Ber. In what manner? Clo. In manner and forme following sir all those three. I was seene with her in the Mannor house, sitting with her vpon the Forme, and taken following her into the Parke: which put to gether, is in manner and forme following. Now sir for the manner; It is the manner of a man to speake to a woman, for the forme in some forme
Ber. For the following sir
Clo. As it shall follow in my correction, and God defend
Fer. Will you heare this Letter with attention?
Ber. As we would heare an Oracle
Clo. Such is the simplicitie of man to harken after the
Ferdinand. Great Deputie, the Welkins Vicegerent, and sole
of Nauar, my soules earths God, and bodies fostring
Cost. Not a word of Costard yet
Ferd. So it is
Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is in telling
true: but so
Clow. Be to me, and euery man that dares not fight
Ferd. No words,
Clow. Of other mens secrets I beseech you
Ferd. So it is besieged with sable coloured melancholie, I did commend the blacke oppressing humour to the most wholesome Physicke of thy health-giuing ayre: And as I am a Gentleman, betooke my selfe to walke: the time When? about the sixt houre, When beasts most grase, birds best pecke, and men sit downe to that nourishment which is called supper: So much for the time When. Now for the ground Which? which I meane I walkt vpon, it is ycliped, Thy Parke. Then for the place Where? where I meane I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous euent that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon coloured Inke, which heere thou viewest, beholdest: suruayest, or seest. But to the place Where? It standeth North North-east and by East from the West corner of thy curious knotted garden; There did I see that low spirited Swaine, that base Minow of thy myrth, Clown. Mee? Ferd. that vnletered small knowing soule, Clow Me? Ferd. that shallow vassall Clow. Still mee?) Ferd. which as I remember, hight Costard, Clow. O me) Ferd. sorted and consorted contrary to thy established proclaymed Edict and Continent, Cannon: Which with, o with, but with this I passion to say wherewith: Clo. With a Wench
Ferd. With a childe of our Grandmother Eue, a female; or for thy more sweet understanding a woman: him, I (as my euer esteemed dutie prickes me on) haue sent to thee, to receiue the meed of punishment by the sweet Graces Officer Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, & estimation
Anth. Me, an't shall please you? I am Anthony Dull
Ferd. For Iaquenetta (so is the weaker vessell called) which I apprehended with the aforesaid Swaine, I keepe her as a vessell of thy Lawes furie, and shall at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to triall. Thine in all complements of deuoted and heart-burning heat of dutie. Don Adriana de Armado
Ber. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best
that euer I heard
Fer. I the best, for the worst. But sirra, What say you
Clo. Sir I confesse the Wench
Fer. Did you heare the Proclamation?
Clo. I doe confesse much of the hearing it, but little
of the marking of it
Fer. It was proclaimed a yeeres imprisonment to bee
taken with a Wench
Clow. I was taken with none sir, I was taken with a
Fer. Well, it was proclaimed Damosell
Clo. This was no Damosell neyther sir, shee was a
Fer. It is so varried to, for it was proclaimed Virgin
Clo. If it were, I denie her Virginitie: I was taken with a Maide
Fer. This Maid will not serue your turne sir
Clo. This Maide will serue my turne sir
Kin. Sir I will pronounce your sentence: You shall
fast a Weeke with Branne and water
Clo. I had rather pray a Moneth with Mutton and
Kin. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
My Lord Berowne, see him deliuer'd ore,
And goe we Lords to put in practice that,
Which each to other hath so strongly sworne
Bero. Ile lay my head to any good mans hat,
These oathes and lawes will proue an idle scorne.
Sirra, come on
Clo. I suffer for the truth sir: for true it is, I was taken with Iaquenetta, and Iaquenetta is a true girle, and therefore welcome the sowre cup of prosperitie, affliction may one day smile againe, and vntill then sit downe sorrow. Enter.
Enter Armado and Moth his Page.
Arma. Boy, What signe is it when a man of great
spirit growes melancholy?
Boy. A great signe sir, that he will looke sad
Brag. Why? sadnesse is one and the selfe-same thing
Boy. No no, O Lord sir no
Brag. How canst thou part sadnesse and melancholy
my tender Iuuenall?
Boy. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my
Brag. Why tough signeur? Why tough signeur?
Boy. Why tender Iuuenall? Why tender Iuuenall?
Brag. I spoke it tender Iuuenall, as a congruent apathaton,
appertaining to thy young daies, which we may
Boy. And I tough signeur, as an appertinent title to
your olde time, which we may name tough
Brag. Pretty and apt
Boy. How meane you sir, I pretty, and my saying apt?
or I apt, and my saying prettie?
Brag. Thou pretty because little
Boy. Little pretty, because little: wherefore apt?
Brag. And therefore apt, because quicke
Boy. Speake you this in my praise Master?
Brag. In thy condigne praise
Boy. I will praise an Eele with the same praise
Brag. What? that an Eele is ingenuous
Boy. That an Eele is quicke
Brag. I doe say thou art quicke in answeres. Thou heat'st my bloud
Boy. I am answer'd sir
Brag. I loue not to be crost
Boy. He speakes the meere contrary, crosses loue not him
Br. I haue promis'd to study iij. yeres with the Duke
Boy. You may doe it in an houre sir
Boy. How many is one thrice told?
Bra. I am ill at reckning, it fits the spirit of a Tapster
Boy. You are a gentleman and a gamester sir
Brag. I confesse both, they are both the varnish of a
Boy. Then I am sure you know how much the grosse
summe of deus-ace amounts to
Brag. It doth amount to one more then two
Boy. Which the base vulgar call three
Boy. Why sir is this such a peece of study? Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink, & how easie it is to put yeres to the word three, and study three yeeres in two words, the dancing horse will tell you
Brag. A most fine Figure
Boy. To proue you a Cypher
Brag. I will heereupon confesse I am in loue: and as it is base for a Souldier to loue; so am I in loue with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection, would deliuer mee from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransome him to any French Courtier for a new deuis'd curtsie. I thinke scorne to sigh, me thinkes I should out-sweare Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men haue beene in loue? Boy. Hercules Master
Brag. Most sweete Hercules: more authority deare Boy, name more; and sweet my childe let them be men of good repute and carriage
Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage, great carriage: for hee carried the Towne-gates on his backe like a Porter: and he was in loue
Brag. O well-knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson;
I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst mee
in carrying gates. I am in loue too. Who was Sampsons
loue my deare Moth?
Boy. A Woman, Master
Brag. Of what complexion?
Boy. Of all the foure, or the three, or the two, or one
of the foure
Brag. Tell me precisely of what complexion?
Boy. Of the sea-water Greene sir
Brag. Is that one of the foure complexions?
Boy. As I haue read sir, and the best of them too
Brag. Greene indeed is the colour of Louers: but to haue a Loue of that colour, methinkes Sampson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit
Boy. It was so sir, for she had a greene wit
Brag. My Loue is most immaculate white and red
Boy. Most immaculate thoughts Master, are mask'd vnder such colours
Brag. Define, define, well educated infant
Boy. My fathers witte, and my mothers tongue assist
Brag. Sweet inuocation of a childe, most pretty and
Boy. If shee be made of white and red,
Her faults will nere be knowne:
For blushin cheekes by faults are bred,
And feares by pale white showne:
Then if she feare, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheekes possesse the same,
Which natiue she doth owe:
A dangerous rime master against the reason of white
Brag. Is there not a ballet Boy, of the King and the Begger? Boy. The world was very guilty of such a Ballet some three ages since, but I thinke now 'tis not to be found: or if it were, it would neither serue for the writing, nor the tune
Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I may example my digression by some mighty president. Boy, I doe loue that Countrey girle that I tooke in the Parke with the rationall hinde Costard: she deserues well
Boy. To bee whip'd: and yet a better loue then my
Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in loue
Boy. And that's great maruell, louing a light wench
Brag. I say sing
Boy. Forbeare till this company be past.
Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.
Const. Sir, the Dukes pleasure, is that you keepe Costard safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance, but hee must fast three daies a weeke: for this Damsell, I must keepe her at the Parke, shee is alowd for the Day-woman. Fare you well. Enter.
Brag. I do betray my selfe with blushing: Maide
Brag. I wil visit thee at the Lodge
Maid. That's here by
Brag. I know where it is situate
Mai. Lord how wise you are!
Brag. I will tell thee wonders
Ma. With what face?
Brag. I loue thee
Mai. So I heard you say
Brag. And so farewell
Mai. Faire weather after you
Clo. Come Iaquenetta, away.
Brag. Villaine, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere
thou be pardoned
Clo. Well sir, I hope when I doe it, I shall doe it on a
Brag. Thou shalt be heauily punished
Clo. I am more bound to you then your fellowes, for they are but lightly rewarded
Clo. Take away this villaine, shut him vp
Boy. Come you transgressing slaue, away
Clow. Let mee not bee pent vp sir, I will fast being
Boy. No sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to
Clow. Well, if euer I do see the merry dayes of desolation
that I haue seene, some shall see
Boy. What shall some see? Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing: I thanke God, I haue as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. Enter.
Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base) where her shooe (which is baser) guided by her foote (which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falshood) if I loue. And how can that be true loue, which is falsly attempted? Loue is a familiar, Loue is a Diuell. There is no euill Angell but Loue, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent strength: Yet was Salomon so seduced, and hee had a very good witte. Cupids Butshaft is too hard for Hercules Clubbe, and therefore too much ods for a Spaniards Rapier: The first and second cause will not serue my turne: the Passado hee respects not, the Duello he regards not; his disgrace is to be called Boy, but his glorie is to subdue men. Adue Valour, rust Rapier, bee still Drum, for your manager is in loue; yea hee loueth. Assist me some extemporall god of Rime, for I am sure I shall turne Sonnet. Deuise Wit, write Pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.
Finis Actus Primus.
Enter the Princesse of France, with three attending Ladies, and
Boyet. Now Madam summon vp your dearest spirits,
Consider who the King your father sends:
To whom he sends, and what's his Embassie.
Your selfe, held precious in the worlds esteeme,
To parlee with the sole inheritour
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchlesse Nauarre, the plea of no lesse weight
Then Aquitaine, a Dowrie for a Queene,
Be now as prodigall of all deare grace,
As Nature was in making Graces deare,
When she did starue the generall world beside,
And prodigally gaue them all to you
Queen. Good L[ord]. Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by iudgement of the eye,
Not vttred by base sale of chapmens tongues:
I am lesse proud to heare you tell my worth,
Then you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to taske the tasker, good Boyet
Prin. You are not ignorant all-telling fame
Doth noyse abroad Nauar hath made a vow,
Till painefull studie shall out-weare three yeares,
No woman may approach his silent Court:
Therefore to's seemeth it a needfull course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalfe
Bold of your worthinesse, we single you,
As our best mouing faire soliciter:
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious businesse crauing quicke dispatch,
Importunes personall conference with his grace.
Haste, signifie so much while we attend,
Like humble visag'd suters his high will
Boy. Proud of imployment, willingly I goe.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so:
Who are the Votaries my Louing Lords, that are vow-fellowes
with this vertuous Duke?
Lor. Longauill is one
Princ. Know you the man?
1 Lady. I know him Madame at a marriage feast,
Betweene L[ord]. Perigort and the beautious heire
Of Iaques Fauconbridge solemnized.
In Normandie saw I this Longauill,
A man of soueraigne parts he is esteem'd:
Well fitted in Arts, glorious in Armes:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The onely soyle of his faire vertues glosse,
If vertues glosse will staine with any soile,
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a Will:
Whose edge hath power to cut whose will still wills,
It should none spare that come within his power
Prin. Some merry mocking Lord belike, ist so?
Lad.1. They say so most, that most his humors know
Prin. such short liu'd wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
2.Lad. The yong Dumaine, a well accomplisht youth,
Of all that Vertue loue, for Vertue loued.
Most power to doe most harme, least knowing ill:
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though she had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alansoes once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthinesse
Rossa. Another of these Students at that time,
Was there with him, as I haue heard a truth.
Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becomming mirth,
I neuer spent an houres talke withall.
His eye begets occasion for his wit,
For euery obiect that the one doth catch,
The other turnes to a mirth-mouing iest.
Which his faire tongue (conceits expositor)
Deliuers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged eares play treuant at his tales,
And yonger hearings are quite rauished.
So sweet and voluble is his discourse
Prin. God blesse my Ladies, are they all in loue?
That euery one her owne hath garnished,
With such bedecking ornaments of praise
Ma. Heere comes Boyet.
Prin. Now, what admittance Lord?
Boyet. Nauar had notice of your faire approach;
And he and his competitors in oath,
Were all addrest to meete you gentle Lady
Before I came: Marrie thus much I haue learnt,
He rather meanes to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes heere to besiege his Court,
Then seeke a dispensation for his oath:
To let you enter his vnpeopled house.
Enter Nauar, Longauill, Dumaine, and Berowne.
Heere comes Nauar
Nau. Faire Princesse, welcom to the Court of Nauar
Prin. Faire I giue you backe againe, and welcome I haue not yet: the roofe of this Court is too high to bee yours, and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be mine
Nau. You shall be welcome Madam to my Court
Prin. I wil be welcome then, Conduct me thither
Nau. Heare me deare Lady, I haue sworne an oath
Prin. Our Lady helpe my Lord, he'll be forsworne
Nau. Not for the world faire Madam, by my will
Prin. Why, will shall breake it will, and nothing els
Nau. Your Ladiship is ignorant what it is
Prin. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must proue ignorance.
I heare your grace hath sworne out House-keeping:
'Tis deadly sinne to keepe that oath my Lord,
And sinne to breake it:
But pardon me, I am too sodaine bold,
To teach a Teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my comming,
And sodainly resolue me in my suite
Nau. Madam, I will, if sodainly I may
Prin. You will the sooner that I were away,
For you'll proue periur'd if you make me stay
Berow. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Rosa. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ber. I know you did
Rosa. How needlesse was it then to ask the question?
Ber. You must not be so quicke
Rosa. 'Tis long of you y spur me with such questions
Ber. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire
Rosa. Not till it leaue the Rider in the mire
Ber. What time a day?
Rosa. The howre that fooles should aske
Ber. Now faire befall your maske
Rosa. Faire fall the face it couers
Ber. And send you many louers
Rosa. Amen, so you be none
Ber. Nay then will I be gone
Kin. Madame, your father heere doth intimate,
The paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
Being but th' one halfe, of an intire summe,
Disbursed by my father in his warres.
But say that he, or we, as neither haue
Receiu'd that summe; yet there remaines vnpaid
A hundred thousand more: in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitaine is bound to vs,
Although not valued to the moneys worth.
If then the King your father will restore
But that one halfe which is vnsatisfied,
We will giue vp our right in Aquitaine,
And hold faire friendship with his Maiestie:
But that it seemes he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to haue repaie,
An hundred thousand Crownes, and not demands
One paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
To haue his title liue in Aquitaine.
Which we much rather had depart withall,
And haue the money by our father lent,
Then Aquitane, so guelded as it is.
Deare Princesse, were not his requests so farre
From reasons yeelding, your faire selfe should make
A yeelding 'gainst some reason in my brest,
And goe well satisfied to France againe
Prin. You doe the King my Father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so vnseeming to confesse receyt
Of that which hath so faithfully beene paid
Kin. I doe protest I neuer heard of it,
And if you proue it, Ile repay it backe,
Or yeeld vp Aquitaine
Prin. We arrest your word:
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a summe, from speciall Officers,
Of Charles his Father
Kin. Satisfie me so
Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come
Where that and other specialties are bound,
To morrow you shall haue a sight of them
Kin. It shall suffice me; at which enterview,
All liberall reason would I yeeld vnto:
Meane time, receiue such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of Honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthinesse.
You may not come faire Princesse in my gates,
But heere without you shall be so receiu'd,
As you shall deeme your selfe lodg'd in my heart,
Though so deni'd farther harbour in my house:
Your owne good thoughts excuse me, and farewell,
To morrow we shall visit you againe
Prin. Sweet health & faire desires consort your grace
Kin. Thy own wish wish I thee, in euery place.
Boy. Lady, I will commend you to my owne heart
La.Ro. Pray you doe my commendations,
I would be glad to see it
Boy. I would you heard it grone
La.Ro. Is the soule sicke?
Boy. Sicke at the heart
La.Ro. Alacke, let it bloud
Boy. Would that doe it good?
La.Ro. My Phisicke saies I
Boy. Will you prick't with your eye
La.Ro. No poynt, with my knife
Boy. Now God saue thy life
La.Ro. And yours from long liuing
Ber. I cannot stay thanks-giuing.
Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What Lady is that same?
Boy. The heire of Alanson, Rosalin her name
Dum. A gallant Lady, Mounsier fare you well
Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
Boy. A woman somtimes, if you saw her in the light
Long. Perchance light in the light: I desire her name
Boy. Shee hath but one for her selfe,
To desire that were a shame
Long. Pray you sir, whose daughter?
Boy. Her Mothers, I haue heard
Long. Gods blessing a your beard
Boy. Good sir be not offended,
Shee is an heyre of Faulconbridge
Long. Nay, my choller is ended:
Shee is a most sweet Lady.
Boy. Not vnlike sir, that may be.
Ber. What's her name in the cap
Boy. Katherine by good hap
Ber. Is she wedded, or no
Boy. To her will sir, or so,
Ber. You are welcome sir, adiew
Boy. Fare well to me sir, and welcome to you.
La.Ma. That last is Beroune, the mery mad-cap Lord.
Not a word with him, but a iest
Boy. And euery iest but a word
Pri. It was well done of you to take him at his word
Boy. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to boord
La.Ma. Two hot Sheepes marie:
And wherefore not Ships?
Boy. No Sheepe (sweet Lamb) vnlesse we feed on your lips
La. You Sheepe & I pasture: shall that finish the iest?
Boy. So you grant pasture for me
La. Not so gentle beast.
My lips are no Common, though seuerall they be
Bo. Belonging to whom?
La. To my fortunes and me
Prin. Good wits wil be iangling, but gentles agree.
This ciuill warre of wits were much better vsed
On Nauar and his bookemen, for heere 'tis abus'd
Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lies
By the hearts still rhetoricke, disclosed with eyes)
Deceiue me not now, Nauar is infected
Prin. With what?
Bo. With that which we Louers intitle affected
Prin. Your reason
Bo. Why all his behauiours doe make their retire,
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
His hart like an Agot with your print impressed,
Proud with his forme, in his eie pride expressed.
His tongue all impatient to speake and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eie-sight to be,
All sences to that sence did make their repaire,
To feele onely looking on fairest of faire:
Me thought all his sences were lockt in his eye,
As Iewels in Christall for some Prince to Buy.
Who tendring their own worth from whence they were glast,
Did point out to buy them along as you past.
His faces owne margent did coate such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eies inchanted with gazes.
Ile giue you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
And you giue him for my sake, but one louing Kisse
Prin. Come to our Pauillion, Boyet is disposde
Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath disclos'd.
I onelie haue made a mouth of his eie,
By adding a tongue, which I know will not lie
Lad.Ro. Thou art an old Loue-monger, and speakest
Lad.Ma. He is Cupids Grandfather, and learnes news
Lad.2. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father
is but grim
Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?
Boy. What then, do you see?
Lad.2. I, our way to be gone
Boy. You are too hard for me.
Enter Braggart and Boy.
Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hearing
Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him festinatly hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my Loue
Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule? Bra. How meanest thou, brauling in French? Boy. No my compleat master, but to Iigge off a tune at the tongues end, canarie to it with the feete, humour it with turning vp your eie: sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throate: if you swallowed loue with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouselike ore the shop of your eies, with your armes crost on your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting, and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: these are complements, these are humours, these betraie nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and make them men of note: do you note men that most are affected to these? Brag. How hast thou purchased this experience? Boy. By my penne of obseruation
Brag. But O, but O
Boy. The Hobbie-horse is forgot
Bra. Cal'st thou my loue Hobbi-horse
Boy. No Master, the Hobbie-horse is but a Colt, and
and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie:
but haue you forgot your Loue?
Brag. Almost I had
Boy. Negligent student, learne her by heart
Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy
Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will proue
Brag. What wilt thou proue? Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vpon the instant: by heart you loue her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her, being out of heart that you cannot enioy her
Brag. I am all these three
Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a
Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be embassadour
for an Asse
Brag. Ha, ha, What saiest thou?
Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse
for he is verie slow gated: but I goe
Brag. The way is but short, away
Boy. As swift as Lead sir
Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a
mettall heauie, dull, and slow?
Boy. Minnime honest Master, or rather Master no
Brag. I say Lead is slow
Boy. You are too swift sir to say so.
Is that Lead slow which is fir'd from a Gunne?
Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike,
He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he:
I shoote thee at the Swaine
Boy. Thump then, and I flee
Bra. A most acute Iuuenall, voluble and free of grace,
By thy fauour sweet Welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
Most rude melancholie, Valour giues thee place.
My Herald is return'd.
Enter Page and Clowne.
Pag. A wonder Master, here's a Costard broken in a
Ar. Some enigma, some riddle, come, thy Lenuoy
Clo. No egma, no riddle, no lenuoy, no salue, in thee male sir. Or sir, Plantan, a plaine Plantan: no lenuoy, no lenuoy, no Salue sir, but a Plantan
Ar. By vertue, thou inforcest laughter, thy sillie
thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes
me to rediculous smyling: O pardon me my stars, doth
the inconsiderate take salue for lenuoy, and the word lenuoy
for a salue?
Pag. Doe the wise thinke them other, is not lenuoy a
Ar. No Page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plaine,
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore bin faine.
Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
Were still at oddes, being but three
Arm. Vntill the Goose came out of doore,
Staying the oddes by adding foure
Pag. A good Lenuoy, ending in the Goose: would you
Clo. The Boy hath sold him a bargaine, a Goose, that's flat.
Sir, your penny-worth is good, and your Goose be fat.
To sell a bargaine well is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see a fat Lenuoy, I that's a fat Goose
Ar. Come hither, come hither:
How did this argument begin?
Boy. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.
Then cal'd you for the Lenuoy
Clow. True, and I for a Plantan:
Thus came your argument in:
Then the Boyes fat Lenuoy, the Goose that you bought,
And he ended the market
Ar. But tell me: How was there a Costard broken in
Pag. I will tell you sencibly
Clow. Thou hast no feeling of it Moth,
I will speake that Lenuoy.
I Costard running out, that was safely within,
Fell ouer the threshold, and broke my shin
Arm. We will talke no more of this matter
Clow. Till there be more matter in the shin
Arm. Sirra Costard, I will infranchise thee
Clow. O, marrie me to one Francis, I smell some Lenuoy, some Goose in this
Arm. By my sweete soule, I meane, setting thee at libertie. Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured, restrained, captiuated, bound
Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose
Arm. I giue thee thy libertie, set thee from durance, and in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: Beare this significant to the countrey Maide Iaquenetta: there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow
Pag. Like the sequell I.
Signeur Costard adew.
Clow. My sweete ounce of mans flesh, my inconie
Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration.
Remuneration, O, that's the Latine word for three-farthings:
Three-farthings remuneration, What's the price
of this yncle? i.d. no, Ile giue you a remuneration: Why?
It carries it remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
a French-Crowne. I will neuer buy and sell out of this
Ber. O my good knaue Costard, exceedingly well met
Clow. Pray you sir, How much Carnation Ribbon
may a man buy for a remuneration?
Ber. What is a remuneration?
Cost. Marrie sir, halfe pennie farthing
Ber. O, Why then threefarthings worth of Silke
Cost. I thanke your worship, God be wy you
Ber. O stay slaue, I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my fauour, good my knaue,
Doe one thing for me that I shall intreate
Clow. When would you haue it done sir?
Ber. O this after-noone
Clo. Well, I will doe it sir: Fare you well
Ber. O thou knowest not what it is
Clo. I shall know sir, when I haue done it
Ber. Why villaine thou must know first
Clo. I wil come to your worship to morrow morning
Ber. It must be done this after-noone,
Harke slaue, it is but this:
The Princesse comes to hunt here in the Parke,
And in her traine there is a gentle Ladie:
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her, aske for her:
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-vp counsaile. Ther's thy guerdon: goe
Clo. Gardon, O sweete gardon, better then remuneration,
a leuenpence-farthing better: most sweete gardon.
I will doe it sir in print: gardon, remuneration.
Ber. O, and I forsooth in loue,
I that haue beene loues whip?
A verie Beadle to a humerous sigh: A Criticke,
Nay, a night-watch Constable.
A domineering pedant ore the Boy,
Then whom no mortall so magnificent,
This wimpled, whyning, purblinde waiward Boy,
This signior Iunios gyant dwarfe, don Cupid,
Regent of Loue-rimes, Lord of folded armes,
Th' annointed soueraigne of sighes and groanes:
Liedge of all loyterers and malecontents:
Dread Prince of Placcats, King of Codpeeces.
Sole Emperator and great generall
Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)
And I to be a Corporall of his field,
And weare his colours like a Tumblers hoope.
What? I loue, I sue, I seeke a wife,
A woman that is like a Germane Cloake,
Still a repairing: euer out of frame,
And neuer going a right, being a Watch:
But being watcht, that it may still goe right.
Nay, to be periurde, which is worst of all:
And among three, to loue the worst of all,
A whitly wanton, with a veluet brow.
With two pitch bals stucke in her face for eyes.
I, and by heauen, one that will doe the deede,
Though Argus were her Eunuch and her garde.
And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
To pray for her, go to: it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect,
Of his almighty dreadfull little might.
Well, I will loue, write, sigh, pray, shue, grone,
Some men must loue my Lady, and some Ione.
Enter the Princesse, a Forrester, her Ladies, and her Lords.
Qu. Was that the King that spurd his horse so hard,
Against the steepe vprising of the hill?
Boy. I know not, but I thinke it was not he
Qu. Who ere a was, a shew'd a mounting minde:
Well Lords, to day we shall haue our dispatch,
On Saterday we will returne to France.
Then Forrester my friend, Where is the Bush
That we must stand and play the murtherer in?
For. Hereby vpon the edge of yonder Coppice,
A stand where you may make the fairest shoote
Qu. I thanke my beautie, I am faire that shoote,
And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoote
For. Pardon me Madam, for I meant not so
Qu. What, what? First praise me, & then again say no.
O short liu'd pride. Not faire? alacke for woe
For. Yes Madam faire
Qu. Nay, neuer paint me now,
Where faire is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here (good my glasse) take this for telling true:
Faire paiment for foule words, is more then due
For. Nothing but faire is that which you inherit
Qu. See, see, my beautie will be sau'd by merit.
O heresie in faire, fit for these dayes,
A giuing hand, though foule, shall haue faire praise.
But come, the Bow: Now Mercie goes to kill,
And shooting well, is then accounted ill:
Thus will I saue my credit in the shoote,
Not wounding, pittie would not let me do't:
If wounding, then it was to shew my skill,
That more for praise, then purpose meant to kill.
And out of question, so it is sometimes:
Glory growes guiltie of detested crimes,
When for Fames sake, for praise an outward part,
We bend to that, the working of the hart.
As I for praise alone now seeke to spill
The poore Deeres blood, that my heart meanes no ill
Boy. Do not curst wiues hold that selfe-soueraigntie
Onely for praise sake, when they striue to be
Lords ore their Lords?
Qu. Onely for praise, and praise we may afford,
To any Lady that subdewes a Lord.
Boy. Here comes a member of the common-wealth
Clo. God dig-you-den all, pray you which is the head
Qu. Thou shalt know her fellow, by the rest that haue
Clo. Which is the greatest Lady, the highest?
Qu. The thickest, and the tallest
Clo. The thickest, & the tallest: it is so, truth is truth.
And your waste Mistris, were as slender as my wit,
One a these Maides girdles for your waste should be fit.
Are not you the chiefe woma[n]? You are the thickest here?
Qu. What's your will sir? What's your will?
Clo. I haue a Letter from Monsier Berowne,
To one Lady Rosaline
Qu. O thy letter, thy letter: He's a good friend of mine.
Stand a side good bearer.
Boyet, you can carue,
Breake vp this Capon
Boyet. I am bound to serue.
This Letter is mistooke: it importeth none here:
It is writ to Iaquenetta
Qu. We will read it, I sweare.
Breake the necke of the Waxe, and euery one giue eare
Boyet reades. By heauen, that thou art faire, is most infallible: true that thou art beauteous, truth it selfe that thou art louely: more fairer then faire, beautifull then beautious, truer then truth it selfe: haue comiseration on thy heroicall Vassall. The magnanimous and most illustrate King Cophetua set eie vpon the pernicious and indubitate Begger Zenelophon: and he it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, vici: Which to annothanize in the vulgar, O base and obscure vulgar; videliset, He came, See, and ouercame: hee came one; see, two; ouercame three: Who came? the King. Why did he come? to see. Why did he see? to ouercome. To whom came he? to the Begger. What saw he? the Begger. Who ouercame he? the Begger. The conclusion is victorie: On whose side? the King: the captiue is inricht: On whose side? the Beggers. The catastrophe is a Nuptiall: on whose side? the Kings: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the King (for so stands the comparison) thou the Begger, for so witnesseth thy lowlinesse. Shall I command thy loue? I may. Shall I enforce thy loue? I could. Shall I entreate thy loue? I will. What, shalt thou exchange for ragges, roabes: for tittles titles, for thy selfe mee. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on thy foote, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy euerie part. Thine in the dearest designe of industrie, Don Adriana de Armatho. Thus dost thou heare the Nemean Lion roare, Gainst thee thou Lambe, that standest as his pray: Submissiue fall his princely feete before, And he from forrage will incline to play. But if thou striue (poore soule) what art thou then? Foode for his rage, repasture for his den
Qu. What plume of feathers is hee that indited this
Letter? What veine? What Wethercocke? Did you
euer heare better?
Boy. I am much deceiued, but I remember the stile
Qu. Else your memorie is bad, going ore it erewhile
Boy. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court
A Phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
To the Prince and his Booke-mates
Qu. Thou fellow, a word.
Who gaue thee this Letter?
Clow. I told you, my Lord
Qu. To whom should'st thou giue it?
Clo. From my Lord to my Lady
Qu. From which Lord, to which Lady?
Clo. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
To a Lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline
Qu. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come Lords away.
Here sweete, put vp this, 'twill be thine another day.
Boy. Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter?
Rosa. Shall I teach you to know
Boy. I my continent of beautie
Rosa. Why she that beares the Bow. Finely put off
Boy. My Lady goes to kill hornes, but if thou marrie,
Hang me by the necke, if hornes that yeare miscarrie.
Finely put on
Rosa. Well then, I am the shooter
Boy. And who is your Deare?
Rosa. If we choose by the hornes, your selfe come not
neare. Finely put on indeede
Maria. You still wrangle with her Boyet, and shee
strikes at the brow
Boyet. But she her selfe is hit lower:
Haue I hit her now
Rosa. Shall I come vpon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it
Boyet. So I may answere thee with one as old that was a woman when Queene Guinouer of Brittaine was a little wench, as touching the hit it
Rosa. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
Thou canst not hit it my good man
Boy. I cannot, cannot, cannot:
And I cannot, another can.
Clo. By my troth most pleasant, how both did fit it
Mar. A marke marueilous well shot, for they both
Boy. A mark, O marke but that marke: a marke saies
Let the mark haue a pricke in't, to meat at, if it may be
Mar. Wide a'th bow hand, yfaith your hand is out
Clo. Indeede a' must shoote nearer, or heele ne're hit
Boy. And if my hand be out, then belike your hand
Clo. Then will shee get the vpshoot by cleauing the
Ma. Come, come, you talke greasely, your lips grow
Clo. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir challenge her
Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good
Clo. By my soule a Swaine, a most simple Clowne.
Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue put him downe.
O my troth most sweete iests, most inconie vulgar wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were,
Armathor ath to the side, O a most dainty man.
To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
To see him kisse his hand, and how most sweetly a will
And his Page atother side, that handfull of wit,
Ah heauens, it is most patheticall nit.
Exeunt. Shoote within.
Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.
Nat. Very reuerent sport truely, and done in the testimony of a good conscience
Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood, ripe as a Pomwater who now hangeth like a Iewell in the eare of Celo the skie; the welken the heauen, and anon falleth like a Crab on the face of Terra, the soyle, the land, the earth
Curat.Nath. Truely M[aster]. Holofernes, the epythithes are sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I assure ye, it was a Bucke of the first head
Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo
Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket
Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde of insinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication facere: as it were replication, or rather ostentare, to show as it were his inclination after his vndressed, vnpolished, vneducated, vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or ratherest vnconfirmed fashion, to insert againe my haud credo for a Deare
Dul. I said the Deare was not a haud credo, 'twas a
Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou monster
Ignorance, how deformed doost thou looke
Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the dainties that are
bred in a booke.
He hath not eate paper as it were:
He hath not drunke inke.
His intellect is not replenished, hee is onely an animall,
onely sensible in the duller parts: and such barren plants
are set before vs, that we thankfull should be: which we
taste and feeling, are for those parts that doe fructifie in
vs more then he.
For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or
So were there a patch set on Learning, to see him in a
But omne bene say I, being of an old Fathers minde,
Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde
Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your
wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue
weekes old as yet?
Hol. Dictisima goodman Dull, dictisima goodman
Dul. What is dictima?
Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone
Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was
And wrought not to fiue-weekes when he came to fiuescore.
Th' allusion holds in the Exchange
Dul. 'Tis true indeede, the Collusion holds in the
Hol. God comfort thy capacity, I say th' allusion holds
in the Exchange
Dul. And I say the polusion holds in the Exchange: for the Moone is neuer but a month old: and I say beside that, 'twas a Pricket that the Princesse kill'd
Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall
Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour
the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a
Nath. Perge, good M[aster]. Holofernes, perge, so it shall
please you to abrogate scurilitie
Hol. I will something affect a letter, for it argues facilitie. The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt a prettie pleasing Pricket, Some say a Sore, but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore, then Sorrell iumps from thicket: Or Pricket-sore, or else Sorell, the people fall a hooting. If Sore be sore, than ell to Sore, makes fiftie sores O sorell: Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L
Nath. A rare talent
Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him with a talent
Nath. This is a gift that I haue simple: simple, a foolish extrauagant spirit, full of formes, figures, shapes, obiects, Ideas, apprehensions, motions, reuolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankfull for it
Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you, and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you are a good member of the common-wealth
Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingenuous, they shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca loquitur, a soule Feminine saluteth vs. Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.
Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M[aster]. Person
Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should
be perst, Which is the one?
Clo. Marry M[aster]. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a
Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit in a turph of Earth, Fire enough for a Flint, Pearle enough for a Swine: 'tis prettie, it is well
Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard, and sent mee from Don Armatho: I beseech you read it
Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan, I may speake of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie, vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perreche. Old Mantuan, old Mantuan. Who vnderstandeth thee not, vt re sol la mi fa: Vnder pardon sir, What are the contents? or rather as Horrace sayes in his, What my soule verses
Hol. I sir, and very learned
Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege domine.
If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue?
Ah neuer faith could hold, if not to beautie vowed.
Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile faithfull proue.
Those thoughts to mee were Okes, to thee like Osiers
Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes.
Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend.
If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice.
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee co[m]mend.
All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder.
Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;
Thy eye Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadfull
Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fire.
Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong,
That sings heauens praise, with such an earthly tongue
Ped. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the
accent. Let me superuise the cangenet
Nath. Here are onely numbers ratified, but for the elegancy, facility, & golden cadence of poesie caret: Ouiddius Naso was the man. And why in deed Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the ierkes of inuention imitarie is nothing: So doth the Hound his master, the Ape his keeper, the tyred Horse his rider: But Damosella virgin, Was this directed to you? Iaq. I sir from one mounsier Berowne, one of the strange Queenes Lords
Nath. I will ouerglance the superscript.
To the snow-white hand of the most beautious Lady Rosaline.
I will looke againe on the intellect of the Letter, for
the nomination of the partie written to the person written
Your Ladiships in all desired imployment, Berowne
Ped. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries with the King, and here he hath framed a Letter to a sequent of the stranger Queens: which accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and goe my sweete, deliuer this Paper into the hand of the King, it may concerne much: stay not thy complement, I forgiue thy duetie, adue
Maid. Good Costard go with me:
Sir God saue your life
Cost. Haue with thee my girle.
Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very
religiously: and as a certaine Father saith
Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare colourable
colours. But to returne to the Verses, Did they please
you sir Nathaniel?
Nath. Marueilous well for the pen
Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill, vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie
Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text)
is the happinesse of life
Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it.
Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not say me nay: pauca
Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our
Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone.
Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare, I am coursing my selfe. They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch, pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue; if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye, and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper, God giue him grace to grone.
He stands aside. The King entreth.
Kin. Ay mee!
Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast
thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap: in faith
King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not,
To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose,
As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot.
The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright,
Through the transparent bosome of the deepe,
As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light:
Thou shin'st in euery teare that I doe weepe,
No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee:
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the teares that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my griefe will show:
But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe.
O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell,
No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
Enter Longauile. The King steps aside.
What Longauill, and reading: listen eare
Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare
Long. Ay me, I am forsworne
Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers
Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame
Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name
Lon. Am I the first y haue been periur'd so?
Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know,
Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie,
The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie
Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue.
O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue,
These numbers will I teare, and write in prose
Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose,
Disfigure not his Shop
Lon. This same shall goe.
He reades the Sonnet.
Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye,
'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Perswade my heart to this false periurie?
Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment.
A Woman I forswore, but I will proue,
Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee.
My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine,
Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke, What foole is not so wise,
To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?
Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity.
A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure Idolatry.
God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th' way.
Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay
Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play,
Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie,
And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish,
Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish
Dum. O most diuine Kate
Bero. O most prophane coxcombe
Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye
Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye
Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted
Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted
Dum. As vpright as the Cedar
Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child
Dum. As faire as day
Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine
Dum. O that I had my wish?
Lon. And I had mine
Kin. And mine too good Lord
Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?
Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she
Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be
Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision
Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision
Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I haue writ
Ber. Once more Ile marke how Loue can varry Wit.
Dumane reades his Sonnet.
On a day, alack the day:
Loue, whose Month is euery May,
Spied a blossome passing faire,
Playing in the wanton ayre:
Through the Veluet, leaues the winde,
All vnseene, can passage finde.
That the Louer sicke to death,
Wish himselfe the heauens breath.
Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe,
Ayre, would I might triumph so.
But alacke my hand is sworne,
Nere to plucke thee from thy throne:
Vow alacke for youth vnmeete,
youth so apt to plucke a sweet.
Doe not call it sinne in me,
That I am forsworne for thee.
Thou for whom Ioue would sweare,
Iuno but an aethiop were,
And denie himselfe for Ioue.
Turning mortall for thy Loue.
This will I send, and something else more plaine.
That shall expresse my true-loues fasting paine.
O would the King, Berowne and Longauill,
Were Louers too, ill to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a periur'd note:
For none offend, where all alike doe dote
Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie,
That in Loues griefe desir'st societie:
You may looke pale, but I should blush I know,
To be ore-heard, and taken napping so
Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such,
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You doe not loue Maria? Longauile,
Did neuer Sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor neuer lay his wreathed armes athwart
His louing bosome, to keepe downe his heart.
I haue beene closely shrowded in this bush,
And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty Rimes, obseru'd your fashion:
Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion.
Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries!
On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,
And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall heare
Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare.
How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that euer I did see,
I would not haue him know so much by me
Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie.
Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me.
Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reproue
These wormes for louing, that art most in loue?
Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares.
There is no certaine Princesse that appeares.
You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing:
Tush, none but Minstrels like of Sonnetting.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not
All three of you, to be thus much ore'shot?
You found his Moth, the King your Moth did see:
But I a Beame doe finde in each of three.
O what a Scene of fool'ry haue I seene.
Of sighes, of grones, of sorrow, and of teene:
O me, with what strict patience haue I sat,
To see a King transformed to a Gnat?
To see great Hercules whipping a Gigge,
And profound Salomon tuning a Iygge?
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boyes,
And Critticke Tymon laugh at idle toyes.
Where lies thy griefe? O tell me good Dumaine;
And gentle Longauill, where lies thy paine?
And where my Liedges? all about the brest:
A Candle hoa!
Kin. Too bitter is thy iest.
Are wee betrayed thus to thy ouer-view?
Ber. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you.
I that am honest, I that hold it sinne
To breake the vow I am ingaged in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men, like men of inconstancie.
When shall you see me write a thing in rime?
Or grone for Ioane? or spend a minutes time,
In pruning mee, when shall you heare that I will praise a
hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a state, a brow, a brest,
a waste, a legge, a limme
Kin. Soft, Whither away so fast?
A true man, or a theefe, that gallops so
Ber. I post from Loue, good Louer let me go.
Enter Iaquenetta and Clowne.
Iaqu. God blesse the King
Kin. What Present hast thou there?
Clo. Some certaine treason
Kin. What makes treason heere?
Clo. Nay it makes nothing sir
Kin. If it marre nothing neither,
The treason and you goe in peace away together
Iaqu. I beseech your Grace let this Letter be read,
Our person mis-doubts it: it was treason he said
Kin. Berowne, read it ouer.
He reades the Letter.
Kin. Where hadst thou it?
Iaqu. Of Costard
King. Where hadst thou it?
Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio
Kin. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it?
Ber. A toy my Liedge, a toy: your grace needes not
Long. It did moue him to passion, and therefore let's
Dum. It is Berowns writing, and heere is his name
Ber. Ah you whoreson loggerhead, you were borne
to doe me shame.
Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confesse, I confesse
Ber. That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make
vp the messe.
He, he, and you: and you my Liedge, and I,
Are picke-purses in Loue, and we deserue to die.
O dismisse this audience, and I shall tell you more
Dum. Now the number is euen
Berow. True true, we are fowre: will these Turtles
Kin. Hence sirs, away
Clo. Walk aside the true folke, & let the traytors stay
Ber. Sweet Lords, sweet Louers, O let vs imbrace,
As true we are as flesh and bloud can be,
The Sea will ebbe and flow, heauen will shew his face:
Young bloud doth not obey an old decree.
We cannot crosse the cause why we are borne:
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworne
King. What, did these rent lines shew some loue of
Ber. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heauenly Rosaline,
That (like a rude and sauage man of Inde.)
At the first opening of the gorgeous East,
Bowes not his vassall head, and strooken blinde,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory Eagle-sighted eye
Dares looke vpon the heauen of her brow,
That is not blinded by her maiestie?
Kin. What zeale, what furie, hath inspir'd thee now?
My Loue (her Mistres) is a gracious Moone,
Shee (an attending Starre) scarce seene a light
Ber. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
O, but for my Loue, day would turne to night,
Of all complexions the cul'd soueraignty,
Doe meet as at a faire in her faire cheeke,
Where seuerall Worthies make one dignity,
Where nothing wants, that want it selfe doth seeke.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,
Fie painted Rethoricke, O she needs it not,
To things of sale, a sellers praise belongs:
She passes prayse, then prayse too short doth blot.
A withered Hermite, fiuescore winters worne,
Might shake off fiftie, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish Age, as if new borne,
And giues the Crutch the Cradles infancie.
O 'tis the Sunne that maketh all things shine
King. By heauen, thy Loue is blacke as Ebonie
Berow. Is Ebonie like her? O word diuine?
A wife of such wood were felicite.
O who can giue an oth? Where is a booke?
That I may sweare Beauty doth beauty lacke,
If that she learne not of her eye to looke:
No face is faire that is not full so blacke
Kin. O paradoxe, Blacke is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the Schoole of night:
And beauties crest becomes the heauens well
Ber. Diuels soonest tempt resembling spirits of light.
O if in blacke my Ladies browes be deckt,
It mournes, that painting vsurping haire
Should rauish doters with a false aspect:
And therfore is she borne to make blacke, faire.
Her fauour turnes the fashion of the dayes,
For natiue bloud is counted painting now:
And therefore red that would auoyd dispraise,
Paints it selfe blacke, to imitate her brow
Dum. To look like her are Chimny-sweepers blacke
Lon. And since her time, are Colliers counted bright
King. And Aethiops of their sweet complexion crake
Dum. Dark needs no Candles now, for dark is light
Ber. Your mistresses dare neuer come in raine,
For feare their colours should be washt away
Kin. 'Twere good yours did: for sir to tell you plaine,
Ile finde a fairer face not washt to day
Ber. Ile proue her faire, or talke till dooms-day here
Kin. No Diuell will fright thee then so much as shee
Duma. I neuer knew man hold vile stuffe so deere
Lon. Looke, heer's thy loue, my foot and her face see
Ber. O if the streets were paued with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread
Duma. O vile, then as she goes what vpward lyes?
The street should see as she walk'd ouer head
Kin. But what of this, are we not all in loue?
Ber. O nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworne
Kin. Then leaue this chat, & good Berown now proue
Our louing lawfull, and our fayth not torne
Dum. I marie there, some flattery for this euill
Long. O some authority how to proceed,
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the diuell
Dum. Some salue for periurie,
Ber. O 'tis more then neede.
Haue at you then affections men at armes,
Consider what you first did sweare vnto:
To fast, to study, and to see no woman:
Flat treason against the Kingly state of youth.
Say, Can you fast? your stomacks are too young:
And abstinence ingenders maladies.
And where that you haue vow'd to studie (Lords)
In that each of you haue forsworne his Booke.
Can you still dreame and pore, and thereon looke.
For when would you my Lord, or you, or you,
Haue found the ground of studies excellence,
Without the beauty of a womans face;
From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue,
They are the Ground, the Bookes, the Achadems,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, vniuersall plodding poysons vp
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long during action tyres
The sinnowy vigour of the trauailer.
Now for not looking on a womans face,
You haue in that forsworne the vse of eyes:
And studie too, the causer of your vow.
For where is any Author in the world,
Teaches such beauty as a womans eye:
Learning is but an adiunct to our selfe,
And where we are, our Learning likewise is.
Then when our selues we see in Ladies eyes,
With our selues.
Doe we not likewise see our learning there?
O we haue made a Vow to studie, Lords,
And in that vow we haue forsworne our Bookes:
For when would you (my Leege) or you, or you?
In leaden contemplation haue found out
Such fiery Numbers as the prompting eyes,
Of beauties tutors haue inrich'd you with:
Other slow Arts intirely keepe the braine:
And therefore finding barraine practizers,
Scarce shew a haruest of their heauy toyle.
But Loue first learned in a Ladies eyes,
Liues not alone emured in the braine:
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in euery power,
And giues to euery power a double power,
Aboue their functions and their offices.
It addes a precious seeing to the eye:
A Louers eyes will gaze an Eagle blinde.
A Louers eare will heare the lowest sound.
When the suspicious head of theft is stopt.
Loues feeling is more soft and sensible,
Then are the tender hornes of Cockle Snayles.
Loues tongue proues dainty, Bachus grosse in taste,
For Valour, is not Loue a Hercules?
Still climing trees in the Hesperides.
Subtill as Sphinx, as sweet and musicall,
As bright Apollo's Lute, strung with his haire.
And when Loue speakes, the voyce of all the Gods,
Make heauen drowsie with the harmonie.
Neuer durst Poet touch a pen to write,
Vntill his Inke were tempred with Loues sighes:
O then his lines would rauish sauage eares,
And plant in Tyrants milde humilitie.
From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue.
They sparcle still the right promethean fire,
They are the Bookes, the Arts, the Achademes,
That shew, containe, and nourish all the world.
Else none at all in ought proues excellent.
Then fooles you were these women to forsweare:
Or keeping what is sworne, you will proue fooles,
For Wisedomes sake, a word that all men loue:
Or for Loues sake, a word that loues all men.
Or for Mens sake, the author of these Women:
Or Womens sake, by whom we men are Men.
Let's once loose our oathes to finde our selues,
Or else we loose our selues, to keepe our oathes:
It is religion to be thus forsworne.
For Charity it selfe fulfills the Law:
And who can seuer loue from Charity
Kin. Saint Cupid then, and Souldiers to the field
Ber. Aduance your standards, & vpon them Lords,
Pell, mell, downe with them: but be first aduis'd,
In conflict that you get the Sunne of them
Long. Now to plaine dealing, Lay these glozes by,
Shall we resolue to woe these girles of France?
Kin. And winne them too, therefore let vs deuise,
Some entertainment for them in their Tents
Ber. First from the Park let vs conduct them thither,
Then homeward euery man attach the hand
Of his faire Mistresse, in the afternoone
We will with some strange pastime solace them:
Such as the shortnesse of the time can shape,
For Reuels, Dances, Maskes, and merry houres,
Fore-runne faire Loue, strewing her way with flowres
Kin. Away, away, no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by vs be fitted
Ber. Alone, alone sowed Cockell, reap'd no Corne,
And Iustice alwaies whirles in equall measure:
Light Wenches may proue plagues to men forsworne,
If so, our Copper buyes no better treasure.
Enter the Pedant, Curate and Dull.
Pedant. Satis quid sufficit
Curat. I praise God for you sir, your reasons at dinner haue beene sharpe & sententious: pleasant without scurrillity, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresie: I did conuerse this quondam day with a companion of the Kings, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armatho
Ped. Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate maiesticall, and his generall behauiour vaine, ridiculous, and thrasonicall. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odde, as it were, too peregrinat, as I may call it
Curat. A most singular and choise Epithat,
Draw out his Table-booke.
Peda. He draweth out the thred of his verbositie, finer then the staple of his argument. I abhor such phanaticall phantasims, such insociable and poynt deuise companions, such rackers of ortagriphie, as to speake dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he shold pronounce debt; debt, not det: he clepeth a Calf, Caufe: halfe, haufe: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abreuiated ne: this is abhominable, which he would call abhominable it insinuateth me of infamie: ne inteligis domine, to make franticke, lunaticke? Cura. Laus deo, bene intelligo
Peda. Bome boon for boon prescian, a little scratcht, 'twil
Enter Bragart, Boy.
Curat. Vides ne quis venit?
Peda. Video, & gaudio
Peda. Quari Chirra, not Sirra?
Brag. Men of peace well incountred
Ped. Most millitarie sir salutation
Boy. They haue beene at a great feast of Languages, and stolne the scraps
Clow. O they haue liu'd long on the almes-basket of words. I maruell thy M[aster]. hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitu%dinitatibus: Thou art easier swallowed then a flapdragon
Page. Peace, the peale begins
Brag. Mounsier, are you not lettred?
Page. Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horne-booke:
What is Ab speld backward with the horn on his head?
Peda. Ba, puericia with a horne added
Pag. Ba most seely Sheepe, with a horne: you heare
Peda. Quis quis, thou Consonant?
Pag. The last of the fiue Vowels if You repeat them,
or the fift if I
Peda. I will repeat them: a e I
Pag. The Sheepe, the other two concludes it o u
Brag. Now by the salt waue of the mediteranium, a sweet tutch, a quicke venewe of wit, snip snap, quick & home, it reioyceth my intellect, true wit
Page. Offered by a childe to an olde man: which is
Peda. What is the figure? What is the figure?
Peda. Thou disputes like an Infant: goe whip thy
Pag. Lend me your Horne to make one, and I will whip about your Infamie vnum cita a gigge of a Cuckolds horne
Clow. And I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread: Hold, there is the very Remuneration I had of thy Maister, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of discretion. O & the heauens were so pleased, that thou wert but my Bastard; What a ioyfull father wouldst thou make mee? Goe to, thou hast it ad dungil, at the fingers ends, as they say
Peda. Oh I smell false Latine, dunghel for vnguem
Brag. Arts-man preambulat, we will bee singled from
the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the Charghouse
on the top of the Mountaine?
Peda. Or Mons the hill
Brag. At your sweet pleasure, for the Mountaine
Peda. I doe sans question
Bra. Sir, it is the Kings most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the Princesse at her Pauilion, in the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the after-noone
Ped. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the after-noone: the word is well culd, chose, sweet, and apt I doe assure you sir, I doe assure
Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my familiar, I doe assure ye very good friend: for what is inward betweene vs, let it passe. I doe beseech thee remember thy curtesie. I beseech thee apparell thy head: and among other importunate & most serious designes, and of great import indeed too: but let that passe, for I must tell thee it will please his Grace (by the world) sometime to leane vpon my poore shoulder, and with his royall finger thus dallie with my excrement, with my mustachio: but sweet heart let that passe. By the world I recount no fable, some certaine speciall honours it pleaseth his greatnesse to impart to Armado a Souldier, a man of trauell, that hath seene the world: but let that passe; the very all of all is: but sweet heart I do implore secrecie, that the King would haue mee present the Princesse (sweet chucke) with some delightfull ostentation, or show, or pageant, or anticke, or fire-worke: Now, vnderstanding that the Curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sodaine breaking out of myrth (as it were) I haue acquainted you withall, to the end to craue your assistance
Peda. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to bee rendred by our assistants the Kings command: and this most gallant, illustrate and learned Gentleman, before the Princesse: I say none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies
Curat. Where will you finde men worthy enough to
Peda. Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gentleman
Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his
great limme or ioynt) shall passe Pompey the great, the
Brag. Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big as the end of his Club
Peda. Shall I haue audience: he shall present Hercules in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling a Snake; and I will haue an Apologie for that purpose
Pag. An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience hisse, you may cry, Well done Hercules, now thou crushest the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious, though few haue the grace to doe it
Brag. For the rest of the Worthies?
Peda. I will play three my selfe
Pag. Thrice worthy Gentleman
Brag. Shall I tell you a thing?
Peda. We attend
Brag. We will haue, if this fadge not, an Antique. I
beseech you follow
Ped. Via good-man Dull, thou hast spoken no word
all this while
Dull. Nor vnderstood none neither sir
Ped. Alone, we will employ thee
Dull. Ile make one in a dance, or so: or I will play
on the taber to the Worthies, & let them dance the hey
Ped. Most Dull, honest Dull, to our sport away.
Qu. Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds: Look you, what I
haue from the louing King
Rosa. Madam, came nothing else along with that?
Qu. Nothing but this: yes as much loue in Rime,
As would be cram'd vp in a sheet of paper
Writ on both sides the leafe, margent and all,
That he was faine to seale on Cupids name
Rosa. That was the way to make his god-head wax:
For he hath beene fiue thousand yeeres a Boy
Kath. I, and a shrewd vnhappy gallowes too
Ros. You'll nere be friends with him, a kild your sister
Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heauy, and so she died: had she beene Light like you, of such a merrie nimble stirring spirit, she might a bin a Grandam ere she died. And so may you: For a light heart liues long
Ros. What's your darke meaning mouse, of this light
Kat. A light condition in a beauty darke
Ros. We need more light to finde your meaning out
Kat. You'll marre the light by taking it in snuffe:
Therefore Ile darkely end the argument
Ros. Look what you doe, you doe it stil i'th darke
Kat. So do not you, for you are a light Wench
Ros. Indeed I waigh not you, and therefore light
Ka. You waigh me not, O that's you care not for me
Ros. Great reason: for past care, is still past cure
Qu. Well bandied both, a set of Wit well played.
But Rosaline, you haue a Fauour too?
Who sent it? and what is it?
Ros. I would you knew.
And if my face were but as faire as yours,
My Fauour were as great, be witnesse this.
Nay, I haue Verses too, I thanke Berowne,
The numbers true, and were the numbring too.
I were the fairest goddesse on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O he hath drawne my picture in his letter
Qu. Any thing like?
Ros. Much in the letters, nothing in the praise
Qu. Beauteous as Incke: a good conclusion
Kat. Faire as a text B. in a Coppie booke
Ros. Ware pensals. How? Let me not die your debtor,
My red Dominicall, my golden letter.
O that your face were full of Oes
Qu. A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes:
But Katherine, what was sent to you
From faire Dumaine?
Kat. Madame, this Gloue
Qu. Did he not send you twaine?
Kat. Yes Madame: and moreouer,
Some thousand Verses of a faithfull Louer.
A huge translation of hypocrisie,
Vildly compiled, profound simplicitie
Mar. This, and these Pearls, to me sent Longauile.
The Letter is too long by halfe a mile
Qu. I thinke no lesse: Dost thou wish in heart
The Chaine were longer, and the Letter short
Mar. I, or I would these hands might neuer part
Quee. We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so
Ros. They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe.
O that I knew he were but in by th' weeke,
How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke,
And wait the season, and obserue the times,
And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes,
And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice,
And make him proud to make me proud that iests.
So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state,
That he shold be my foole, and I his fate
Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht,
As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:
Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole,
And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole?
Ros. The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse,
As grauities reuolt to wantons be
Mar. Follie in Fooles beares not so strong a note,
As fool'ry in the Wise, when Wit doth dote:
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To proue by Wit, worth in simplicitie.
Qu. Heere comes Boyet, and mirth in his face
Boy. O I am stab'd with laughter, Wher's her Grace?
Qu. Thy newes Boyet?
Boy. Prepare Madame, prepare.
Arme Wenches arme, incounters mounted are,
Against your Peace, Loue doth approach, disguis'd:
Armed in arguments, you'll be surpriz'd.
Muster your Wits, stand in your owne defence,
Or hide your heads like Cowards, and flie hence
Qu. Saint Dennis to S[aint]. Cupid: What are they,
That charge their breath against vs? Say scout say
Boy. Vnder the coole shade of a Siccamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some halfe an houre:
When lo to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest,
The King and his companions: warely
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And ouer-heard, what you shall ouer-heare:
That by and by disguis'd they will be heere.
Their Herald is a pretty knauish Page:
That well by heart hath con'd his embassage,
Action and accent did they teach him there.
Thus must thou speake, and thus thy body beare.
And euer and anon they made a doubt,
Presence maiesticall would put him out:
For quoth the King, an Angell shalt thou see:
Yet feare not thou, but speake audaciously.
The Boy reply'd, An Angell is not euill:
I should haue fear'd her, had she beene a deuill.
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wagg by their praises bolder.
One rub'd his elboe thus, and fleer'd, and swore,
A better speech was neuer spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come.
The third he caper'd and cried, All goes well.
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and downe he fell:
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zelous laughter so profound,
That in this spleene ridiculous appeares,
To checke their folly passions solemne teares
Que. But what, but what, come they to visit vs?
Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,
Like Muscouites; or Russians, as I gesse.
Their purpose is to parlee, to court, and dance,
And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance,
Vnto his seuerall mistresse: which they'll know
By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow
Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt:
For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt,
And not a man of them shall haue the grace
Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face.
Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare,
And then the King will court thee for his Deare:
Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine,
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues
Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues
Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight
Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent?
Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs:
They doe it but in mocking merriment,
And mocke for mocke is onely my intent.
Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall,
To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall.
Vpon the next occasion that we meete,
With Visages displayd to talke and greete
Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't?
Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot,
Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace:
But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face
Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart,
And quite diuorce his memory from his part
Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt,
The rest will ere come in, if he be out.
Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne:
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne.
So shall we stay mocking entended game,
And they well mockt, depart away with shame.
Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers
Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the
the Lords disguised.
Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth
Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata
Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes.
The Ladies turne their backes to him.
Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes
Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes.
Boy. True, out indeed
Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe
Not to beholde
Ber. Once to behold, rogue
Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes,
With your Sunne beamed eyes
Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite,
you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes
Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out
Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue
Rosa. What would these strangers?
Know their mindes Boyet.
If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will
That some plaine man recount their purposes.
Know what they would?
Boyet. What would you with the Princes?
Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation
Ros. What would they, say they?
Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation
Rosa. Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon
Boy. She saies you haue it, and you may be gon
Kin. Say to her we haue measur'd many miles,
To tread a Measure with you on the grasse
Boy. They say that they haue measur'd many a mile,
To tread a Measure with you on this grasse
Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches
Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie,
The measure then of one is easlie told
Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles,
And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell,
How many inches doth fill vp one mile?
Ber. Tell her we measure them by weary steps
Boy. She heares her selfe
Rosa. How manie wearie steps,
Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone,
Are numbred in the trauell of one mile?
Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you,
Our dutie is so rich, so infinite,
That we may doe it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of your face,
That we (like sauages) may worship it
Rosa. My face is but a Moone and clouded too
Kin. Blessed are clouds, to doe as such clouds do.
Vouchsafe bright Moone, and these thy stars to shine,
(Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne
Rosa. O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter,
Thou now requests but Mooneshine in the water
Kin. Then in our measure, vouchsafe but one change.
Thou bidst me begge, this begging is not strange
Rosa. Play musicke then: nay you must doe it soone.
Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moone
Kin. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
Rosa. You tooke the Moone at full, but now shee's
Kin. Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man
Rosa. The musick playes, vouchsafe some motion to
it: Our eares vouchsafe it
Kin. But your legges should doe it
Ros. Since you are strangers, & come here by chance,
Wee'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance
Kin. Why take you hands then?
Rosa. Onelie to part friends.
Curtsie sweet hearts, and so the Measure ends
Kin. More measure of this measure, be not nice
Rosa. We can afford no more at such a price
Kin. Prise your selues: What buyes your companie?
Rosa. Your absence onelie
Kin. That can neuer be
Rosa. Then cannot we be bought: and so adue,
Twice to your Visore, and halfe once to you
Kin. If you denie to dance, let's hold more chat
Ros. In priuate then
Kin. I am best pleas'd with that
Be. White handed Mistris, one sweet word with thee
Qu. Hony, and Milke, and Suger: there is three
Ber. Nay then two treyes, an if you grow so nice
Methegline, Wort, and Malmsey; well runne dice:
There's halfe a dozen sweets
Qu. Seuenth sweet adue, since you can cogg,
Ile play no more with you
Ber. One word in secret
Qu. Let it not be sweet
Ber. Thou greeu'st my gall
Qu. Gall, bitter
Ber. Therefore meete
Du. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
Mar. Name it
Dum. Faire Ladie:
Mar. Say you so? Faire Lord:
Take you that for your faire Lady
Du. Please it you,
As much in priuate, and Ile bid adieu
Mar. What, was your vizard made without a tong?
Long. I know the reason Ladie why you aske
Mar. O for your reason, quickly sir, I long
Long. You haue a double tongue within your mask,
And would affoord my speechlesse vizard halfe
Mar. Veale quoth the Dutch-man: is not Veale a
Long. A Calfe faire Ladie?
Mar. No, a faire Lord Calfe
Long. Let's part the word
Mar. No, Ile not be your halfe:
Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe
Long. Looke how you but your selfe in these sharpe
Will you giue hornes chast Ladie? Do not so
Mar. Then die a Calfe before your horns do grow
Lon. One word in priuate with you ere I die
Mar. Bleat softly then, the Butcher heares you cry
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the Razors edge, inuisible:
Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene,
Aboue the sense of sence so sensible:
Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings,
Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things
Rosa. Not one word more my maides, breake off,
Ber. By heauen, all drie beaten with pure scoffe
King. Farewell madde Wenches, you haue simple wits.
Qu. Twentie adieus my frozen Muscouits.
Are these the breed of wits so wondred at?
Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweete breathes
Rosa. Wel-liking wits they haue, grosse, grosse, fat, fat
Qu. O pouertie in wit, Kingly poore flout.
Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night?
Or euer but in vizards shew their faces:
This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite
Rosa. They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping ripe for a good word
Qu. Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite
Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword:
No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute
Ka. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
And trow you what he call'd me?
Qu. Qualme perhaps
Kat. Yes in good faith
Qu. Go sicknesse as thou art
Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps,
But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne
Qu. And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me
Kat. And Longauill was for my seruice borne
Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree
Boyet. Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare,
Immediately they will againe be heere
In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
They will digest this harsh indignitie
Qu. Will they returne?
Boy. They will they will, God knowes,
And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire
Qu. How blow? how blow? Speake to bee vnderstood
Boy. Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud:
Dismaskt, their damaske sweet commixture showne,
Are Angels vailing clouds, or Roses blowne
Qu. Auant perplexitie: What shall we do,
If they returne in their owne shapes to wo?
Rosa. Good Madam, if by me you'l be aduis'd.
Let's mocke them still as well knowne as disguis'd:
Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare,
Disguis'd like Muscouites in shapelesse geare:
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildely pen'd:
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our Tent to vs
Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand
Quee. Whip to our Tents, as Roes runnes ore Land.
Enter the King and the rest.
King. Faire sir, God saue you. Wher's the Princesse?
Boy. Gone to her Tent.
Please it your Maiestie command me any seruice to her?
King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word
Boy. I will, and so will she, I know my Lord.
Ber. This fellow pickes vp wit as Pigeons pease,
And vtters it againe, when Ioue doth please.
He is Wits Pedler, and retailes his Wares,
At Wakes, and Wassels, Meetings, Markets, Faires.
And we that sell by grosse, the Lord doth know,
Haue not the grace to grace it with such show.
This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue.
Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eue.
He can carue too, and lispe: Why this is he,
That kist away his hand in courtesie.
This is the Ape of Forme, Monsieur the nice,
That when he plaies at Tables, chides the Dice
In honorable tearmes: Nay he can sing
A meane most meanly, and in Vshering
Mend him who can: the Ladies call him sweete.
The staires as he treads on them kisse his feete.
This is the flower that smiles on euerie one,
To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone.
And consciences that wil not die in debt,
Pay him the dutie of honie-tongued Boyet
King. A blister on his sweet tongue with my hart,
That put Armathoes Page out of his part.
Enter the Ladies.
Ber. See where it comes. Behauiour what wer't thou,
Till this madman shew'd thee? And what art thou now?
King. All haile sweet Madame, and faire time of day
Qu. Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceiue
King. Construe my speeches better, if you may
Qu. Then wish me better, I wil giue you leaue
King. We came to visit you, and purpose now
To leade you to our Court, vouchsafe it then
Qu. This field shal hold me, and so hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delights in periur'd men
King. Rebuke me not for that which you prouoke:
The vertue of your eie must breake my oth
Q. You nickname vertue: vice you should haue spoke:
For vertues office neuer breakes men troth.
Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
As the vnsallied Lilly, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yeeld to be your houses guest:
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie
Kin. O you haue liu'd in desolation heere,
Vnseene, vnuisited, much to our shame
Qu. Not so my Lord, it is not so I sweare,
We haue had pastimes heere, and pleasant game,
A messe of Russians left vs but of late
Kin. How Madam? Russians?
Qu. I in truth, my Lord.
Trim gallants, full of Courtship and of state
Rosa. Madam speake true. It is not so my Lord:
My Ladie (to the manner of the daies)
In curtesie giues vndeseruing praise.
We foure indeed confronted were with foure
In Russia habit: Heere they stayed an houre,
And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord)
They did not blesse vs with one happy word.
I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke,
When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke
Ber. This iest is drie to me. Gentle sweete,
Your wits makes wise things foolish when we greete
With eies best seeing, heauens fierie eie:
By light we loose light; your capacitie
Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore,
Wise things seeme foolish, and rich things but poore
Ros. This proues you wise and rich: for in my eie
Ber. I am a foole, and full of pouertie
Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue
Ber. O, I am yours, and all that I possesse
Ros. All the foole mine
Ber. I cannot giue you lesse
Ros. Which of the Vizards what it that you wore?
Ber. Where? when? What Vizard?
Why demand you this?
Ros. There, then, that vizard, that superfluous case,
That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face
Kin. We are discried,
They'l mocke vs now downeright
Du. Let vs confesse, and turne it to a iest
Que. Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes
Rosa. Helpe hold his browes, hee'l sound: why looke
Sea-sicke I thinke comming from Muscouie
Ber. Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury.
Can any face of brasse hold longer out?
Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me,
Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout.
Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance.
Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,
Nor neuer more in Russian habit waite.
O! neuer will I trust to speeches pen'd,
Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue.
Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend,
Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue,
Taffata phrases, silken tearmes precise,
Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection;
Figures pedanticall, these summer flies,
Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forsweare them, and I heere protest,
By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows)
Henceforth my woing minde shall be exprest
In russet yeas, and honest kersie noes.
And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law,
My loue to thee is sound, sans cracke or flaw,
Rosa. Sans, sans, I pray you
Ber. Yet I haue a tricke
Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke.
Ile leaue it by degrees: soft, let vs see,
Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three,
They are infected, in their hearts it lies:
They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
These Lords are visited, you are not free:
For the Lords tokens on you do I see
Qu. No, they are free that gaue these tokens to vs
Ber. Our states are forfeit, seeke not to vndo vs
Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue
Ber. Peace, for I will not haue to do with you
Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend
Ber. Speake for your selues, my wit is at an end
King. Teach vs sweete Madame, for our rude transgression,
some faire excuse
Qu. The fairest is confession.
Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd?
Kin. Madam, I was
Qu. And were you well aduis'd?
Kin. I was faire Madam
Qu. When you then were heere,
What did you whisper in your Ladies eare?
King. That more then all the world I did respect her
Qu. When shee shall challenge this, you will reiect
King. Vpon mine Honor no
Qu. Peace, peace, forbeare:
Your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare
King. Despise me when I breake this oath of mine
Qu. I will, and therefore keepe it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your eare?
Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me deare
As precious eye-sight, and did value me
Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer,
That he would Wed me, or else die my Louer
Qu. God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord
Most honorably doth vphold his word
King. What meane you Madame?
By my life, my troth
I neuer swore this Ladie such an oth
Ros. By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine,
You gaue me this: But take it sir againe
King. My faith and this, the Princesse I did giue,
I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue
Qu. Pardon me sir, this Iewell did she weare.
And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare.
What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe?
Ber. Neither of either, I remit both twaine.
I see the tricke on't: Heere was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas Comedie.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Zanie,
Some mumble-newes, some trencher-knight, som Dick
That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd;
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The Ladies did change Fauours; and then we
Following the signes, woo'd but the signe of she.
Now to our periurie, to adde more terror,
We are againe forsworne in will and error.
Much vpon this tis: and might not you
Forestall our sport, to make vs thus vntrue?
Do not you know my Ladies foot by'th squier?
And laugh vpon the apple of her eie?
And stand betweene her backe sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, iesting merrilie?
You put our Page out: go, you are alowd.
Die when you will, a smocke shall be your shrowd.
You leere vpon me, do you? There's an eie
Wounds like a Leaden sword
Boy. Full merrily hath this braue manager, this carreere
Ber. Loe, he is tilting straight. Peace, I haue don.
Welcome pure wit, thou part'st a faire fray
Clo. O Lord sir, they would kno,
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no
Ber. What, are there but three?
Clo. No sir, but it is vara fine,
For euerie one pursents three
Ber. And three times thrice is nine
Clo. Not so sir, vnder correction sir, I hope it is not so. You cannot beg vs sir, I can assure you sir, we know what we know: I hope sir three times thrice sir
Ber. Is not nine
Clo. Vnder correction sir, wee know where-vntill it doth amount
Ber. By Ioue, I alwaies tooke three threes for nine
Clow. O Lord sir, it were pittie you should get your liuing by reckning sir
Ber. How much is it? Clo. O Lord sir, the parties themselues, the actors sir will shew where-vntill it doth amount: for mine owne part, I am (as they say, but to perfect one man in one poore man) Pompion the great sir
Ber. Art thou one of the Worthies?
Clo. It pleased them to thinke me worthie of Pompey
the great: for mine owne part, I know not the degree of
the Worthie, but I am to stand for him
Ber. Go, bid them prepare.
Clo. We will turne it finely off sir, we wil take some
King. Berowne, they will shame vs:
Let them not approach
Ber. We are shame-proofe my Lord: and 'tis some policie, to haue one shew worse then the Kings and his companie
Kin. I say they shall not come
Qu. Nay my good Lord, let me ore-rule you now;
That sport best pleases, that doth least know how.
Where Zeale striues to content, and the contents
Dies in the Zeale of that which it presents:
Their forme confounded, makes most forme in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth
Ber. A right description of our sport my Lord.
Brag. Annointed, I implore so much expence of thy
royall sweet breath, as will vtter a brace of words
Qu. Doth this man serue God?
Ber. Why aske you?
Qu. He speak's not like a man of God's making
Brag. That's all one my faire sweet honie Monarch: For I protest, the Schoolmaster is exceeding fantasticall: Too too vaine, too too vaine. But we wil put it (as they say) to Fortuna delaguar, I wish you the peace of minde most royall cupplement
King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies; He presents Hector of Troy, the Swaine Pompey y great, the Parish Curate Alexander, Armadoes Page Hercules, the Pedant Iudas Machabeus: and if these foure Worthies in their first shew thriue, these foure will change habites, and present the other fiue
Ber. There is fiue in the first shew
Kin. You are deceiued, tis not so
Ber. The Pedant, the Braggart, the Hedge-Priest, the
Foole, and the Boy,
Abate throw at Novum, and the whole world againe,
Cannot pricke out fiue such, take each one in's vaine
Kin. The ship is vnder saile, and here she coms amain.
Clo. I Pompey am
Ber. You lie, you are not he
Clo. I Pompey am
Boy. With Libbards head on knee
Ber. Well said old mocker,
I must needs be friends with thee
Clo. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big
Du. The great
Clo. It is great sir: Pompey surnam'd the great:
That oft in field, with Targe and Shield,
did make my foe to sweat:
And trauailing along this coast, I heere am come by chance,
And lay my Armes before the legs of this sweet Lasse of
If your Ladiship would say thankes Pompey, I had done
La. Great thankes great Pompey
Clo. Tis not so much worth: but I hope I was perfect.
I made a little fault in great
Ber. My hat to a halfe-penie, Pompey prooues the
Enter Curate for Alexander.
Curat. When in the world I liu'd, I was the worldes Commander:
By East, West, North, & South, I spred my conquering might
My Scutcheon plaine declares that I am Alisander
Boiet. Your nose saies no, you are not:
For it stands too right
Ber. Your nose smells no, in this most tender smelling
Qu. The Conqueror is dismaid:
Proceede good Alexander
Cur. When in the world I liued, I was the worldes Commander
Boiet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so Alisander
Ber. Pompey the great
Clo. your seruant and Costard
Ber. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alisander Clo. O sir, you haue ouerthrowne Alisander the conqueror: you will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth for this: your Lion that holds his Pollax sitting on a close stoole, will be giuen to Aiax. He will be the ninth worthie. A Conqueror, and affraid to speake? Runne away for shame Alisander. There an't shall please you: a foolish milde man, an honest man, looke you, & soon dasht. He is a maruellous good neighbour insooth, and a verie good Bowler: but for Alisander, alas you see, how 'tis a little ore-parted. But there are Worthies a comming, will speake their minde in some other sort.
Qu. Stand aside good Pompey.
Enter Pedant for Iudas, and the Boy for Hercules.
Ped. Great Hercules is presented by this Impe,
Whose Club kil'd Cerberus that three-headed Canus,
And when he was a babe, a childe, a shrimpe,
Thus did he strangle Serpents in his Manus:
Quoniam, he seemeth in minoritie,
Ergo, I come with this Apologie.
Keepe some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Ped. Iudas I am
Dum. A Iudas?
Ped. Not Iscariot sir.
Iudas I am, ycliped Machabeus
Dum. Iudas Machabeus clipt, is plaine Iudas
Ber. A kissing traitor. How art thou prou'd Iudas?
Ped. Iudas I am
Dum. The more shame for you Iudas
Ped. What meane you sir?
Boi. To make Iudas hang himselfe
Ped. Begin sir, you are my elder
Ber. Well follow'd, Iudas was hang'd on an Elder
Ped. I will not be put out of countenance
Ber. Because thou hast no face
Ped. What is this?
Boi. A Citterne head
Dum. The head of a bodkin
Ber. A deaths face in a ring
Lon. The face of an old Roman coine, scarce seene
Boi. The pummell of Cæsars Faulchion
Dum. The caru'd-bone face on a Flaske
Ber. S[aint]. Georges halfe cheeke in a brooch
Dum. I, and in a brooch of Lead
Ber. I, and worne in the cap of a Tooth-drawer.
And now forward, for we haue put thee in countenance
Ped. You haue put me out of countenance
Ber. False, we haue giuen thee faces
Ped. But you haue out-fac'd them all
Ber. And thou wer't a Lion, we would do so
Boy. Therefore as he is, an Asse, let him go:
And so adieu sweet Iude. Nay, why dost thou stay?
Dum. For the latter end of his name
Ber. For the Asse to the Iude: giue it him. Iudas away
Ped. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble
Boy. A light for monsieur Iudas, it growes darke, he
Que. Alas poore Machabeus, how hath hee beene
Ber. Hide thy head Achilles, heere comes Hector in
Dum. Though my mockes come home by me, I will
now be merrie
King. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this
Boi. But is this Hector?
Kin. I thinke Hector was not so cleane timber'd
Lon. His legge is too big for Hector
Dum. More Calfe certaine
Boi. No, he is best indued in the small
Ber. This cannot be Hector
Dum. He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces
Brag. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty, gaue Hector a gift
Dum. A gilt Nutmegge
Ber. A Lemmon
Lon. Stucke with Cloues
Dum. No clouen
Brag. The Armipotent Mars of Launces the almighty,
Gaue Hector a gift, the heire of Illion;
A man so breathed, that certaine he would fight: yea
From morne till night, out of his Pauillion.
I am that Flower
Dum. That Mint
Long. That Cullambine
Brag. Sweet Lord Longauill reine thy tongue
Lon. I must rather giue it the reine: for it runnes against
Dum. I, and Hector's a Grey-hound
Brag. The sweet War-man is dead and rotten,
Sweet chuckes, beat not the bones of the buried:
But I will forward with my deuice;
Sweete Royaltie bestow on me the sence of hearing.
Berowne steppes forth.
Qu. Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted
Brag. i do adore thy sweet Graces slipper
Boy. Loues her by the foot
Dum. He may not by the yard
Brag. This Hector farre surmounted Hanniball.
The partie is gone
Clo. Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two moneths
on her way
Brag. What meanest thou?
Clo. Faith vnlesse you play the honest Troyan, the
poore Wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags
in her belly alreadie: tis yours
Brag. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates?
Thou shalt die
Clo. Then shall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta that is quicke by him, and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead by him
Dum. Most rare Pompey
Boi. Renowned Pompey
Ber. Greater then great, great, great, great Pompey:
Pompey the huge
Dum. Hector trembles
Ber. Pompey is moued, more Atees more Atees stirre them, or stirre them on
Dum. Hector will challenge him
Ber. I, if a'haue no more mans blood in's belly, then will sup a Flea
Brag. By the North-pole I do challenge thee
Clo. I wil not fight with a pole like a Northern man; Ile slash, Ile do it by the sword: I pray you let mee borrow my Armes againe
Dum. Roome for the incensed Worthies
Clo. Ile do it in my shirt
Dum. Most resolute Pompey
Page. Master, let me take you a button hole lower: Do you not see Pompey is vncasing for the combat: what meane you? you will lose your reputation
Brag. Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will
not combat in my shirt
Du. You may not denie it, Pompey hath made the
Brag. Sweet bloods, I both may, and will
Ber. What reason haue you for't?
Brag. The naked truth of it is, I haue no shirt,
I go woolward for penance
Boy. True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want of Linnen: since when, Ile be sworne he wore none, but a dishclout of Iaquenettas, and that hee weares next his heart for a fauour. Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.
Mar. God saue you Madame
Qu. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruptest
Marc. I am sorrie Madam, for the newes I bring is
heauie in my tongue. The King your father
Qu. Dead for my life
Mar. Euen so: My tale is told
Ber. Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud
Brag. For mine owne part, I breath free breath: I haue seene the day of wrong, through the little hole of discretion, and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.
Kin. How fare's your Maiestie?
Qu. Boyet prepare, I will away to night
Kin. Madame not so, I do beseech you stay
Qu. Prepare I say. I thanke you gracious Lords
For all your faire endeuours and entreats:
Out of a new sad-soule, that you vouchsafe,
In your rich wisedome to excuse, or hide,
The liberall opposition of our spirits,
If ouer-boldly we haue borne our selues,
In the conuerse of breath (your gentlenesse
Was guiltie of it.) Farewell worthie Lord:
A heauie heart beares not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so, comming so short of thankes,
For my great suite, so easily obtain'd
Kin. The extreme parts of time, extremelie formes
All causes to the purpose of his speed:
And often at his verie loose decides
That, which long processe could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progenie
Forbid the smiling curtesie of Loue:
The holy suite which faine it would conuince,
Yet since loues argument was first on foote,
Let not the cloud of sorrow iustle it
From what it purpos'd: since to waile friends lost,
Is not by much so wholsome profitable,
As to reioyce at friends but newly found
Qu. I vnderstand you not, my greefes are double
Ber. Honest plain words, best pierce the ears of griefe
And by these badges vnderstand the King,
For your faire sakes haue we neglected time,
Plaid foule play with our oaths: your beautie Ladies
Hath much deformed vs, fashioning our humors
Euen to the opposed end of our intents.
And what in vs hath seem'd ridiculous:
As Loue is full of vnbefitting straines,
All wanton as a childe, skipping and vaine.
Form'd by the eie, and therefore like the eie.
Full of straying shapes, of habits, and of formes
Varying in subiects as the eie doth roule,
To euerie varied obiect in his glance:
Which partie-coated presence of loose loue
Put on by vs, if in your heauenly eies,
Haue misbecom'd our oathes and grauities.
Those heauenlie eies that looke into these faults,
Suggested vs to make: therefore Ladies
Our loue being yours, the error that Loue makes
Is likewise yours. We to our selues proue false,
By being once false, for euer to be true
To those that make vs both, faire Ladies you.
And euen that falshood in it selfe a sinne,
Thus purifies it selfe, and turnes to grace
Qu. We haue receiu'd your Letters, full of Loue:
Your Fauours, the Ambassadors of Loue.
And in our maiden counsaile rated them,
At courtship, pleasant iest, and curtesie,
As bumbast and as lining to the time:
But more deuout then these are our respects
Haue we not bene, and therefore met your loues
In their owne fashion, like a merriment
Du. Our letters Madam, shew'd much more then iest
Lon. So did our lookes
Rosa. We did not coat them so
Kin. Now at the latest minute of the houre,
Grant vs your loues
Qu. A time me thinkes too short,
To make a world-without-end bargaine in:
No, no my Lord, your Grace is periur'd much,
Full of deare guiltinesse, and therefore this:
If for my Loue (as there is no such cause)
You will do ought, this shall you do for me.
Your oth I will not trust: but go with speed
To some forlorne and naked Hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world:
There stay, vntill the twelue Celestiall Signes
Haue brought about their annuall reckoning.
If this austere insociable life,
Change not your offer made in heate of blood:
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudie blossomes of your Loue,
But that it beare this triall, and last loue:
Then at the expiration of the yeare,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
And by this Virgin palme, now kissing thine,
I will be thine: and till that instant shut
My wofull selfe vp in a mourning house,
Raining the teares of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my Fathers death.
If this thou do denie, let our hands part,
Neither intitled in the others hart
Kin. If this, or more then this, I would denie,
To flatter vp these powers of mine with rest,
The sodaine hand of death close vp mine eie.
Hence euer then, my heart is in thy brest
Ber. And what to me my Loue? and what to me?
Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd.
You are attaint with faults and periurie:
Therefore if you my fauor meane to get,
A tweluemonth shall you spend, and neuer rest,
But seeke the wearie beds of people sicke
Du. But what to me my loue? but what to me?
Kat. A wife? a beard, faire health, and honestie,
With three-fold loue, I wish you all these three
Du. O shall I say, I thanke you gentle wife?
Kat. Not so my Lord, a tweluemonth and a day,
Ile marke no words that smoothfac'd wooers say.
Come when the King doth to my Ladie come:
Then if I haue much loue, Ile giue you some
Dum. Ile serue thee true and faithfully till then
Kath. Yet sweare not, least ye be forsworne agen
Lon. What saies Maria?
Mari. At the tweluemonths end,
Ile change my blacke Gowne, for a faithfull friend
Lon. Ile stay with patience: but the time is long
Mari. The liker you, few taller are so yong
Ber. Studies my Ladie? Mistresse, looke on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eie:
What humble suite attends thy answer there,
Impose some seruice on me for my loue
Ros. Oft haue I heard of you my Lord Berowne,
Before I saw you: and the worlds large tongue
Proclaimes you for a man repleate with mockes,
Full of comparisons, and wounding floutes:
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercie of your wit.
To weed this Wormewood from your fruitfull braine,
And therewithall to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won:
You shall this tweluemonth terme from day to day,
Visit the speechlesse sicke, and still conuerse
With groaning wretches: and your taske shall be,
With all the fierce endeuour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile
Ber. To moue wilde laughter in the throate of death?
It cannot be, it is impossible.
Mirth cannot moue a soule in agonie
Ros. Why that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers giue to fooles:
A iests prosperitie, lies in the eare
Of him that heares it, neuer in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly eares,
Deaft with the clamors of their owne deare grones,
Will heare your idle scornes; continue then,
And I will haue you, and that fault withall.
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shal finde you emptie of that fault,
Right ioyfull of your reformation
Ber. A tweluemonth? Well: befall what will befall,
Ile iest a tweluemonth in an Hospitall
Qu. I sweet my Lord, and so I take my leaue
King. No Madam, we will bring you on your way
Ber. Our woing doth not end like an old Play:
Iacke hath not Gill: these Ladies courtesie
Might wel haue made our sport a Comedie
Kin. Come sir, it wants a tweluemonth and a day,
And then 'twil end
Ber. That's too long for a play.
Brag. Sweet Maiesty vouchsafe me
Qu. Was not that Hector?
Dum. The worthie Knight of Troy
Brag. I wil kisse thy royal finger, and take leaue. I am a Votarie, I haue vow'd to Iaquenetta to holde the Plough for her sweet loue three yeares. But most esteemed greatnesse, wil you heare the Dialogue that the two Learned men haue compiled, in praise of the Owle and the Cuckow? It should haue followed in the end of our shew
Kin. Call them forth quickely, we will do so
Brag. Holla, Approach.
This side is Hiems, Winter.
This Ver, the Spring: the one maintained by the Owle,
Th' other by the Cuckow.
When Dasies pied, and Violets blew,
And Cuckow-buds of yellow hew:
And Ladie-smockes all siluer white,
Do paint the Medowes with delight.
The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
Mockes married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.
When Shepheards pipe on Oaten strawes,
And merrie Larkes are Ploughmens clockes:
When Turtles tread, and Rookes and Dawes,
And Maidens bleach their summer smockes:
The Cuckow then on euerie tree
Mockes married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare
Winter. When Isicles hang by the wall,
And Dicke the Shepheard blowes his naile;
And Tom beares Logges into the hall,
And Milke comes frozen home in paile:
When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.
When all aloud the winde doth blow,
And coffing drownes the Parsons saw:
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marrians nose lookes red and raw:
When roasted Crabs hisse in the bowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot
Brag. The Words of Mercurie,
Are harsh after the songs of Apollo:
You that way; we this way.