From reason's yielding, your fair self should make Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father. King. Satisfy me so. Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialities are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand, Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan, Ros. Is the fool sick? Biron. Sick at heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physic says, I.1 Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that same? Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit. Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the white? Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name. Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame. Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Exit Long. Biron. What's her name, in the cap? Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no? Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu! Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask. (1) Aye, yes. (2) A French particle of negation. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry! Boyet. And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. Mar. [Offering to kiss her. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though severall they be. To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree: The civil war of wits were much better used By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Prin. With what? Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: (1) A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands. Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. I only have made a mouth of his eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully. Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learn's news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? Mar. No. SCENE I-Another part of the same. Enter Armado and Moth. Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Moth. Concolinel [Singing. Arm. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him Act III. festinately1 hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?2 Arm. How means't thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary3 to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. -the hobby-horse is forgot. Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love? Arm. Almost I had. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy. Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? Moth. A man, if I live: and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, (2) A kind of dance. (1) Hastily. (3) Canary was the name of a sprightly dance. |