KING reads. "For Jaquenetta (so is the weaker vessel called, which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain), I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty, "DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO." Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. King. Ay, the best for the worst.-But, sirrah, what say you to this? Cost. Sir, I confess the wench. King. Did you hear the proclamation? Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it. King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench. Cost. I was taken with none, sir; I was taken with a damosel. King. Well, it was proclaimed damosel. Cost. This was no damosel neither, sir; she was a virgin. King. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed virgin. Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid. King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. This maid will serve my turn, sir. King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water. Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. My lord Birón, see him delivered o'er :— And go we, lords, to put in practice that Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. [Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.Sirrah, come on. Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl and therefore, Welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again, and till then, Sit thee down, sorrow! [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another part of the Park. ARMADO'S House. Enter ARMADO and MOTH. Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no; O lord, sir, no! Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or, I apt, and my saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little. Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? Arm. And therefore apt, because quick. Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. Arm. I do say thou art quick in answers. Thou heatest my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him. [Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Arm. Impossible. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fits the spirit of a tapster. Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three. Arm. True. Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied ere you'll thrice wink :and how easy it is to put "years" to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. To prove you a cipher. [Aside. Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master: Arm. Most sweet Hercules!-More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Sampson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Sampson! strong-jointed Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampson's love, my dear Moth? Moth. A woman, master. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion? Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir. Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers : but to have a love of that colour, methinks Sampson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit and my mother's tongue assist me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known; And fears by pale-white shewn : By this you shall not know; A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since, but I think now 'tis not to be found; or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune. Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. [Aside. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. Arm. I know where it is situate. Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! Arm. I love thee. [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast being loose. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose; thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall seeMoth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing. I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt MoтH and COSTARD. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falsehood) if I love and how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme; for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. SCENE I.-Another part of the Park. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attend ants. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits: Consider who the king your father sends; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not uttered by base sale of chapmen's tongues : I am less proud to hear you tell my worth, Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. [Exit. Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so. Who are the votaries, my loving lord, 1st Lord. Longaville is one. Prin. Know you the man? Mar. I know him, madam: at a marriage feast, Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge solémniséd, In Normandy saw I this Longaville: (If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil), Prin. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue loved: Ros. Another of these students at that time Was there with him: if I have heard a truth, Birón they call him; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal: Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome, then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be for sworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; [Gives a paper. King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjured if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant Biron. Your wit's too hot; it speeds too fast; 't will tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast, Prin. You do the king my father too much Where that and other specialties are bound: King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, To-morrow we shall visit you again. Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee, in every place! [Exeunt KING and his Train. |