« PreviousContinue »
You would for paradise break faith and troth;
[To Long. And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To DUMAIN. What will Birón say, when that he shall hear A faith infring'd, which such a zeal did swear? How will he scorn? how will he spend his wit ? How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it? For all the wealth that ever I did see, I would not have him know so much by me,
Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisyAh, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me:
[Descends from the tree. Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to re
prove These worms for loving, that art most in love? Your eyes
do make no coaches; in your tears,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
King. Too bitter is thy jest.
Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you;
for Joan ? or spend a minute's time
King. Soft; Whither away so fast?
Biron. I post from love; good lover, let me go.
Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD.
What present hast thou there?
What makes treason here?
If it mar nothing neither, The treason, and you, go in peace away together.
Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be
misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over.
[Giving him the letter. Where hadst thou it?
Jaq. Of Costard.
tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs
not fear it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore
let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name.
[Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [To Cos
TARD.) you were born to do me shame.--Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess.
up the mess :
you more, Dum. Now the number is even. Biron.
True, true; we are four : Will these turtles be gone? King.
Hence, sirs; away. Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay
[Eceunt Cost, and JAQ.
Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O let us em
brace ! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be : The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his
Young blood will not obey an old decree :
of thine ?
ly Rosaline, That, like a rude and savage man of Inde,
At the first opening of the gorgeous east, Bows not his vassal head; and, strucken blind,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
no eyes, nor I
Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek;
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,
Fye, painted rhetorick! O, she needs it not : To things of sale a seller's praise belongs; She passes praise; then praise too short doth
blot. A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,
And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
A wife of such wood were felicity.
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack,
No face is fair, that is not full so black. King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell;
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night; And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of
light. O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
It mourns, that painting, and usarping hair, Should ravish doters with a false aspéct;
And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days ;
For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
Paints itself black, to imitate her brow,