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Blow like sweet roses in the summer air.
Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?
Ros. 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. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land.
[Exeunt Princess, Ros. Kath. and Maria. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain,
in their proper habits. King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is 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. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons
peas; And utters it again when God doth please : He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassels,2 meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
(1) Uncouth. (2) Rustic merry-meetings.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
heart, That put Armado's page out of his part! Enter the Princess, usher'd by Boyet; Rosaline,
Maria, Katharine, and attendants. Biron. See where it comes !-Behaviour, what
wert thou, Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou
King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of
Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. 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. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your
Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you pro The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
(1) The tenor in music.
Prin. You nick-name 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,
I would not yield to be your house's guest
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game; A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam? Russians ?
Ay, in truth, my lord ; Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.
Ros. 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 here with four In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. Biron. This jest' is dry to me-Fair, gentle
sweet, Your wit makes wise things foolish ; when we greet With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye, 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. Ros. This proves you wise and rich, for in my
eye, Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.
Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong; It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
(1) After the fashion of the times.
Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what visor? why de
mand you this ? Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried : they'll mock us now
downright. Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz’d, my lord? Why looks your highRos. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why
look you pale ? Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for
perjury. Can any face of brass hold longer out?Here stand Í, 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. 0! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend;
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song: Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical ; these summer-flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation :
And, to begin, wench,-So God help me, la
Ros. Sans sans, I pray you.
Yet I have a trick
Ros. It is not so; For how can this be true,
transgression Some fair excuse. Prin.
The fairest is confession.
King. Madam, I was.
And were you well advis'd?
When you then were here,
King. That more than all the world I did res
Peace, peace, forbear;
(1) Make no difficulty.