The park
Enter the PRINCESS, MARIA, KATHARINE, and ROSALINE PRINCESS OF FRANCE Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving King.
ROSALINE Madam, came nothing else along with that?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Nothing but this! Yes, as much love in rhyme
As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper
Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
ROSALINE That was the way to make his godhead wax;
For he hath been five thousand year a boy.
KATHARINE Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
ROSALINE You'll ne'er be friends with him: 'a kill'd your sister.
KATHARINE He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
And so she died. Had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might 'a been a grandam ere she died.
And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
ROSALINE What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?
KATHARINE A light condition in a beauty dark.
ROSALINE We need more light to find your meaning out.
KATHARINE You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.
ROSALINE Look what you do, you do it still i' th' dark.
KATHARINE So do not you; for you are a light wench.
ROSALINE Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.
KATHARINE You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.
ROSALINE Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
But, Rosaline, you have a favour too?
Who sent it? and what is it?
ROSALINE I would you knew.
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great: be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Berowne;
The numbers true, and, were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Anything like?
ROSALINE Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Beauteous as ink- a good conclusion.
KATHARINE Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
ROSALINE Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor,
My red dominical, my golden letter:
O that your face were not so full of O's!
KATHARINE A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair
Dumain?
KATHARINE Madam, this glove.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Did he not send you twain?
KATHARINE Yes, madam; and, moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover;
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
MARIA This, and these pearl, to me sent Longaville;
The letter is too long by half a mile.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
The chain were longer and the letter short?
MARIA Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
ROSALINE They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne I'll torture ere I go.
O that I knew he were but in by th' week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes,
And shape his service wholly to my hests,
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So pertaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE None are so surely caught, when they are
catch'd,
As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school,
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
ROSALINE The blood of youth burns not with such excess
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
MARIA Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
As fool'ry in the wise when wit doth dote,
Since all the power thereof it doth apply
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
Enter BOYET PRINCESS OF FRANCE Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
BOYET O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her Grace?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Thy news, Boyet?
BOYET Prepare, madam, prepare!
Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are
Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd.
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are they
That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.
BOYET Under the cool shade of a sycamore
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
When, lo, to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The King and his companions; warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear-
That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage.
Action and accent did they teach him there:
'Thus must thou speak' and 'thus thy body bear,'
And ever and anon they made a doubt
Presence majestical would put him out;
'For' quoth the King 'an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.'
The boy replied 'An angel is not evil;
I should have fear'd her had she been a devil.'
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus, and fleer'd, and swore
A better speech was never spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb
Cried 'Via! we will do't, come what will come.'
The third he caper'd, and cried 'All goes well.'
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE But what, but what, come they to visit us?
BOYET They do, they do, and are apparell'd thus,
Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parley, court, and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE And will they so? The gallants shall be task'd,
For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
And then the King will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.
ROSALINE Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.
KATHARINE But, in this changing, what is your intent?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
They do it but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
Upon the next occasion that we meet
With visages display'd to talk and greet.
ROSALINE But shall we dance, if they desire us to't?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE No, to the death, we will not move a foot,
Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace;
But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.
BOYET Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
And quite divorce his memory from his part.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt
The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out.
There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown,
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
And they well mock'd depart away with shame.
[Trumpet sounds within] BOYET The trumpet sounds; be mask'd; the maskers come.
[The LADIES mask] Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the
KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians MOTH All hail, the richest heauties on the earth!
BOYET Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
MOTH A holy parcel of the fairest dames
[The LADIES turn their backs to him] That ever turn'd their- backs- to mortal views!
BEROWNE Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
MOTH That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
Out-
BOYET True; out indeed.
MOTH Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold-
BEROWNE Once to behold, rogue.
MOTH Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes- with your
sun-beamed eyes-
BOYET They will not answer to that epithet;
You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.'
MOTH They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
BEROWNE Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue.
Exit MOTH ROSALINE What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.
If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.
BOYET What would you with the Princess?
BEROWNE Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE What would they, say they?
BOYET Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
BOYET She says you have it, and you may be gone.
KING Say to her we have measur'd many miles
To tread a measure with her on this grass.
BOYET They say that they have measur'd many a mile
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
ROSALINE It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile? If they have measured many,
The measure, then, of one is eas'ly told.
BOYET If to come hither you have measur'd miles,
And many miles, the Princess bids you tell
How many inches doth fill up one mile.
BEROWNE Tell her we measure them by weary steps.
BOYET She hears herself.
ROSALINE How many weary steps
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone
Are numb'red in the travel of one mile?
BEROWNE We number nothing that we spend for you;
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.
ROSALINE My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
KING Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do.
Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine,
Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
ROSALINE O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.
KING Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange.
ROSALINE Play, music, then. Nay, you must do it soon.
Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon.
KING Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
ROSALINE You took the moon at full; but now she's changed.
KING Yet still she is the Moon, and I the Man.
The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
ROSALINE Our ears vouchsafe it.
KING But your legs should do it.
ROSALINE Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,
We'll not be nice; take hands. We will not dance.
KING Why take we hands then?
ROSALINE Only to part friends.
Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
KING More measure of this measure; be not nice.
ROSALINE We can afford no more at such a price.
KING Price you yourselves. What buys your company?
ROSALINE Your absence only.
KING That can never be.
ROSALINE Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu-
Twice to your visor and half once to you.
KING If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
ROSALINE In private then.
KING I am best pleas'd with that.
[They converse apart] BEROWNE White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
BEROWNE Nay, then, two treys, an if you grow so nice,
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey; well run dice!
There's half a dozen sweets.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Seventh sweet, adieu!
Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.
BEROWNE One word in secret.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Let it not be sweet.
BEROWNE Thou grievest my gall.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Gall! bitter.
BEROWNE Therefore meet.
[They converse apart] DUMAIN Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
MARIA Name it.
DUMAIN Fair lady-
MARIA Say you so? Fair lord-
Take that for your fair lady.
DUMAIN Please it you,
As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
[They converse apart] KATHARINE What, was your vizard made without a tongue?
LONGAVILLE I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
KATHARINE O for your reason! Quickly, sir; I long.
LONGAVILLE You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless vizard half.
KATHARINE 'Veal' quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf?
LONGAVILLE A calf, fair lady!
KATHARINE No, a fair lord calf.
LONGAVILLE Let's part the word.
KATHARINE No, I'll not be your half.
Take all and wean it; it may prove an ox.
LONGAVILLE Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!
Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
KATHARINE Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
LONGAVILLE One word in private with you ere I die.
KATHARINE Bleat softly, then; the butcher hears you cry.
[They converse apart] BOYET The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
Above the sense of sense; so sensible
Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
ROSALINE Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
BEROWNE By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
KING Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
Exeunt KING, LORDS, and BLACKAMOORS PRINCESS OF FRANCE Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?
BOYET Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.
ROSALINE Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night?
Or ever but in vizards show their faces?
This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite.
ROSALINE They were all in lamentable cases!
The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Berowne did swear himself out of all suit.
MARIA Dumain was at my service, and his sword.
'No point' quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
KATHARINE Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart;
And trow you what he call'd me?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Qualm, perhaps.
KATHARINE Yes, in good faith.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Go, sickness as thou art!
ROSALINE Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to me.
KATHARINE And Longaville was for my service born.
MARIA Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
BOYET Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes; for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Will they return?
BOYET They will, they will, God knows,
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows;
Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE How blow? how blow? Speak to be understood.
BOYET Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud:
Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do
If they return in their own shapes to woo?
ROSALINE Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
Let's mock them still, as well known as disguis'd.
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.
BOYET Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.
Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA Re-enter the KING, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits KING Fair sir, God save you! Where's the Princess?
BOYET Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty
Command me any service to her thither?
KING That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
BOYET I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.
Exit BEROWNE This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please.
He is wit's pedlar, and retails his wares
At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
'A can carve too, and lisp; why this is he
That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms; nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly; and in ushering,
Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet.
This is the flow'r that smiles on every one,
To show his teeth as white as whales-bone;
And consciences that will not die in debt
Pay him the due of 'honey-tongued Boyet.'
KING A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,
That put Armado's page out of his part!
Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE BEROWNE See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou
Till this man show'd thee? And what art thou now?
KING All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE 'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive.
KING Construe my speeches better, if you may.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Then wish me better; I will give you leave.
KING We came to visit you, and purpose now
To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men.
KING Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE You nickname virtue: vice you should have
spoke;
For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unsullied lily, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house's guest;
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.
KING O, you have liv'd in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game;
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
KING How, madam! Russians!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Ay, in truth, my lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
ROSALINE Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord.
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit; here they stayed an hour
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
BEROWNE This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet,
Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet,
With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light; your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
ROSALINE This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye-
BEROWNE I am a fool, and full of poverty.
ROSALINE But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
BEROWNE O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
ROSALINE All the fool mine?
BEROWNE I cannot give you less.
ROSALINE Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
BEROWNE Where? when? what vizard? Why demand you this?
ROSALINE There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
That hid the worse and show'd the better face.
KING We were descried; they'll mock us now downright.
DUMAIN Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your Highness sad?
ROSALINE Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
BEROWNE Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?
Here stand I, lady- dart thy skill at me,
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance,
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue,
Nor never come in vizard to my friend,
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song.
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical- these summer-flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forswear them; and I here protest,
By this white glove- how white the hand, God knows!-
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.
And, to begin, wench- so God help me, law!-
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
ROSALINE Sans 'sans,' I pray you.
BEROWNE Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage; bear with me, I am sick;
I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see-
Write 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three;
They are infected; in their hearts it lies;
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
These lords are visited; you are not free,
For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
BEROWNE Our states are forfeit; seek not to undo us.
ROSALINE It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
BEROWNE Peace; for I will not have to do with you.
ROSALINE Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
BEROWNE Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end.
KING Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
Some fair excuse.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE The fairest is confession.
Were not you here but even now, disguis'd?
KING Madam, I was.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE And were you well advis'd?
KING I was, fair madam.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
KING That more than all the world I did respect her.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE When she shall challenge this, you will reject
her.
KING Upon mine honour, no.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Peace, peace, forbear;
Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
KING Despise me when I break this oath of mine.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE I will; and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
ROSALINE Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eyesight, and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me, or else die my lover.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE God give thee joy of him! The noble lord
Most honourably doth uphold his word.
KING What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth,
I never swore this lady such an oath.
ROSALINE By heaven, you did; and, to confirm it plain,
You gave me this; but take it, sir, again.
KING My faith and this the Princess I did give;
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear.
What, will you have me, or your pearl again?
BEROWNE. Neither of either; I remit both twain.
I see the trick on't: here was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh when she's dispos'd,
Told our intents before; which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change favours; and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn in will and error.
Much upon this it is;
[To BOYET] and might not you
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by th' squier,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You put our page out. Go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye
Wounds like a leaden sword.
BOYET Full merrily
Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
BEROWNE Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done.
Enter COSTARD Welcome, pure wit! Thou part'st a fair fray.
COSTARD O Lord, sir, they would know
Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no?
BEROWNE What, are there but three?
COSTARD No, sir; but it is vara fine,
For every one pursents three.
BEROWNE And three times thrice is nine.
COSTARD Not so, sir; under correction, sir,
I hope it is not so.
You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we
know;
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir-
BEROWNE Is not nine.
COSTARD Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
BEROWNE By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
COSTARD O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by
reck'ning, sir.
BEROWNE How much is it?
COSTARD O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will
show whereuntil it doth amount. For mine own part, I am, as they
say, but to parfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great,
sir.
BEROWNE Art thou one of the Worthies?
COSTARD It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey the Great;
for mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy; but I am
to stand for him.
BEROWNE Go, bid them prepare.
COSTARD We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care.
Exit COSTARD KING Berowne, they will shame us; let them not approach.
BEROWNE We are shame-proof, my lord, and 'tis some policy
To have one show worse than the King's and his company.
KING I say they shall not come.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now.
That sport best pleases that doth least know how;
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it presents.
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
BEROWNE A right description of our sport, my lord.
Enter ARMADO ARMADO Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet
breath as will utter a brace of words.
[Converses apart with the KING, and delivers a paper] PRINCESS OF FRANCE Doth this man serve God?
BEROWNE Why ask you?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE 'A speaks not like a man of God his making.
ARMADO That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I
protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too too vain,
too too vain; but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la
guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!
Exit ARMADO KING Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He presents
Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate,
Alexander; Arinado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas
Maccabaeus.
And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits and present the other five.
BEROWNE There is five in the first show.
KING You are deceived, 'tis not so.
BEROWNE The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and
the boy:
Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
KING The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
Enter COSTARD, armed for POMPEY COSTARD I Pompey am-
BEROWNE You lie, you are not he.
COSTARD I Pompey am-
BOYET With libbard's head on knee.
BEROWNE Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee.
COSTARD I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big-
DUMAIN The Great.
COSTARD It is Great, sir.
Pompey surnam'd the Great,
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to
sweat;
And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France.
If your ladyship would say 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Great thanks, great Pompey.
COSTARD 'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect.
I made a little fault in Great.
BEROWNE My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.
Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for ALEXANDER NATHANIEL When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might.
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander-
BOYET Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands to right.
BEROWNE Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling
knight.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good
Alexander.
NATHANIEL When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander-
BOYET Most true, 'tis right, you were so, Alisander.
BEROWNE Pompey the Great!
COSTARD Your servant, and Costard.
BEROWNE Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
COSTARD [To Sir Nathaniel] O, Sir, you have overthrown Alisander
the conqueror! You will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth for
this. Your lion, that holds his poleaxe sitting on a close-stool,
will be given to Ajax. He will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror
and afeard to speak! Run away for shame, Alisander.
[Sir Nathaniel retires] There, an't shall please you, a foolish
mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd. He is a
marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good bowler; but for
Alisander- alas! you see how 'tis- a little o'erparted. But there
are Worthies a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Stand aside, good Pompey.
Enter HOLOFERNES, for JUDAS; and MOTH, for HERCULES HOLOFERNES Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus;
And when be was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
Ergo I come with this apology.
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
[MOTH retires] Judas I am-
DUMAIN A Judas!
HOLOFERNES Not Iscariot, sir.
Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus.
DUMAIN Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas.
BEROWNE A kissing traitor. How art thou prov'd Judas?
HOLOFERNES Judas I am-
DUMAIN The more shame for you, Judas!
HOLOFERNES What mean you, sir?
BOYET To make Judas hang himself.
HOLOFERNES Begin, sir; you are my elder.
BEROWNE Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.
HOLOFERNES I will not be put out of countenance.
BEROWNE Because thou hast no face.
HOLOFERNES What is this?
BOYET A cittern-head.
DUMAIN The head of a bodkin.
BEROWNE A death's face in a ring.
LONGAVILLE The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
BOYET The pommel of Caesar's falchion.
DUMAIN The carv'd-bone face on a flask.
BEROWNE Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.
DUMAIN Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
BEROWNE Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. And now,
forward; for we have put thee in countenance.
HOLOFERNES You have put me out of countenance.
BEROWNE False: we have given thee faces.
HOLOFERNES But you have outfac'd them all.
BEROWNE An thou wert a lion we would do so.
BOYET Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.
And so adieu, sweet Jude! Nay, why dost thou stay?
DUMAIN For the latter end of his name.
BEROWNE For the ass to the Jude; give it him- Jud-as, away.
HOLOFERNES This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
BOYET A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark, he may stumble.
[HOLOFERNES retires] PRINCESS OF FRANCE Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!
Enter ARMADO, for HECTOR BEROWNE Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms.
DUMAIN Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
KING Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
BOYET But is this Hector?
DUMAIN I think Hector was not so clean-timber'd.
LONGAVILLE His leg is too big for Hector's.
DUMAIN More calf, certain.
BOYET No; he is best indued in the small.
BEROWNE This cannot be Hector.
DUMAIN He's a god or a painter, for he makes faces.
ARMADO The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift-
DUMAIN A gilt nutmeg.
BEROWNE A lemon.
LONGAVILLE Stuck with cloves.
DUMAIN No, cloven.
ARMADO Peace!
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A man so breathed that certain he would fight ye,
From morn till night out of his pavilion.
I am that flower-
DUMAIN That mint.
LONGAVILLE That columbine.
ARMADO Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
LONGAVILLE I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against
Hector.
DUMAIN Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
ARMADO The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat
not the bones of the buried; when he breathed, he was a man. But
I will forward with my device.
[To the PRINCESS] Sweet royalty,
bestow on me the sense of hearing.
[BEROWNE steps forth, and speaks to COSTARD] PRINCESS OF FRANCE Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
ARMADO I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper.
BOYET [Aside to DUMAIN] Loves her by the foot.
DUMAIN [Aside to BOYET] He may not by the yard.
ARMADO This Hector far surmounted Hannibal-
COSTARD The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two
months on her way.
ARMADO What meanest thou?
COSTARD Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench
is cast away. She's quick; the child brags in her belly already;
'tis yours.
ARMADO Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? Thou shalt die.
COSTARD Then shall Hector be whipt for Jaquenetta that is quick by
him, and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him.
DUMAIN Most rare Pompey!
BOYET Renowned Pompey!
BEROWNE Greater than Great! Great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the
Huge!
DUMAIN Hector trembles.
BEROWNE Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir them on! stir
them on!
DUMAIN Hector will challenge him.
BEROWNE Ay, if 'a have no more man's blood in his belly than will
sup a flea.
ARMADO By the North Pole, I do challenge thee.
COSTARD I will not fight with a pole, like a Northern man; I'll
slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my
arms again.
DUMAIN Room for the incensed Worthies!
COSTARD I'll do it in my shirt.
DUMAIN Most resolute Pompey!
MOTH Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you not see
Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? You will lose
your reputation.
ARMADO Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my
shirt.
DUMAIN You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
ARMADO Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BEROWNE What reason have you for 't?
ARMADO The naked truth of it is: I have no shirt; I go woolward
for penance.
BOYET True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen;
since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a dishclout of
Jaquenetta's, and that 'a wears next his heart for a favour.
Enter as messenger, MONSIEUR MARCADE MARCADE God save you, madam!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Welcome, Marcade;
But that thou interruptest our merriment.
MARCADE I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father-
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Dead, for my life!
MARCADE Even so; my tale is told.
BEROWNE Worthies away; the scene begins to cloud.
ARMADO For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the
day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will
right myself like a soldier.
Exeunt WORTHIES KING How fares your Majesty?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.
KING Madam, not so; I do beseech you stay.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours, and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spirits,
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath- your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord.
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
KING The extreme parts of time extremely forms
All causes to the purpose of his speed;
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purpos'd; since to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE I understand you not; my griefs are double.
BEROWNE Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
And by these badges understand the King.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents;
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain;
Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance;
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes that look into these faults
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both- fair ladies, you;
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast and as lining to the time;
But more devout than this in our respects
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
DUMAIN Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
LONGAVILLE So did our looks.
ROSALINE We did not quote them so.
KING Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this,
If for my love, as there is no such cause,
You will do aught- this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood,
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love,
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come, challenge me, challenge me by these deserts;
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
My woeful self up in a mournful house,
Raining the tears of lamentation
For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
Neither intitled in the other's heart.
KING If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence hermit then, my heart is in thy breast.
BEROWNE And what to me, my love? and what to me?
ROSALINE You must he purged too, your sins are rack'd;
You are attaint with faults and perjury;
Therefore, if you my favour mean to get,
A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
But seek the weary beds of people sick.
DUMAIN But what to me, my love? but what to me?
A wife?
KATHARINE A beard, fair health, and honesty;
With threefold love I wish you all these three.
DUMAIN O, shall I say I thank you, gentle wife?
KATHARINE No so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day
I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say.
Come when the King doth to my lady come;
Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
DUMAIN I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
KATHARINE Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.
LONGAVILLE What says Maria?
MARIA At the twelvemonth's end
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
LONGAVILLE I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
MARIA The liker you; few taller are so young.
BEROWNE Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me;
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there.
Impose some service on me for thy love.
ROSALINE Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Berowne,
Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit.
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won,
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
BEROWNE To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible;
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
ROSALINE Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it; then, if sickly ears,
Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you and that fault withal.
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.
BEROWNE A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall,
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE [To the King] Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take
my leave.
KING No, madam; we will bring you on your way.
BEROWNE Our wooing doth not end like an old play:
Jack hath not Jill. These ladies' courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.
KING Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth an' a day,
And then 'twill end.
BEROWNE That's too long for a play.
Re-enter ARMADO ARMADO Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me-
PRINCESS OF FRANCE Was not that not Hector?
DUMAIN The worthy knight of Troy.
ARMADO I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a
votary: I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her
sweet love three year. But, most esteemed greatness, will you
hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled in
praise of the Owl and the Cuckoo? It should have followed in the
end of our show.
KING Call them forth quickly; we will do so.
ARMADO Holla! approach.
[Enter All] This side is Hiems, Winter; this Ver, the Spring- the one
maintained by the Owl, th' other by the Cuckoo. Ver, begin.
SPRING
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then on every tree
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks;
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks;
The cuckoo then on every tree
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
WINTER
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl:
'Tu-who;
Tu-whit, Tu-who'- A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl:
'Tu-who;
Tu-whit, To-who'- A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
ARMADO The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
You that way: we this way.
Exeunt THE END