ful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.

Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance, -the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess; I say, none so fit as to present the nine worthies.

Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them ?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the great; the page, Hercules.

Arm. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his "enter" and "exit" shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry,-" Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake!" That is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the worthies?—
Hol. I will play three myself.
Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?
Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic.

If fairings come thus plentifully in:
A lady walled about with diamonds!
Look you, what I have from the loving king.
Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with
that?

Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in rhyme

As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper, Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all; That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

Ros. That was the way to make his godhead

wax;

For he hath been five thousand years a boy.

Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he killed your sister.

Kath. 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 have been a grandam ere she died: And so may you; for a light heart lives long. Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this

light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.
Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

out.

Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i'the

dark.

Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench.

Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore

light.

Kath. You weigh me not?-O, that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past

care.

Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well played.

But Rosaline, you have a favour too:
Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros. 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 Birón:
The numbers true; and were the numbering too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
Prin. Anything like?

Ros. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die
your debtor,

The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

Prin. We are wise girls, to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.

That same Birón I'll torture ere I go.
O, that I knew he were but in by the 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 behests;
And make him proud to make me proud that
jests!

So portent-like would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are catched,

As wit turned fool: folly, in wisdom hatched, Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school; And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such

Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. Prin. Saint Denis 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 purposed 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, disguised they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,

That well by heart hath conned 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 feared her had she been a devil." With that all laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder;

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder. One rubbed his elbow, thus; and fleered, 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 capered, and cried, " All goes well:"
The fourth turned 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.
Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit
us?

Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparelled thus,

Like Muscovites, or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is, to parle, to 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.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be

tasked:

For ladies, we will every one be masked;
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 Birón take me for Rosaline.--
And change your favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.

Ros. Come on, then; wear the favours most
in sight.

Kath. But, in this changing, what is your intent?

Prin. 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 mocked withal, Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages displayed, to talk and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to 't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot:

Nor to their penned speech render we no grace; But, while 't is spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. 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 mocked, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within.

Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be masked, the maskers come. [The Ladies mask.

Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DuMAIN, in Russian habits, and masked; Moтn, Musicians, and Attendants.

Мотн.

All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!

Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.

Мотн.

A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

[The Ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turned their-backs-to mortal views! Biron. "Their eyes," villain, "their eyes." Мотн.

That ever turned their eyes to mortal views!
Out-

Boyet. True; "out," indeed.

Мотн.

Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold-

Biron. "Once to behold," rogue.
Мотн.

Once to behold with your sun-beaméd eyes,
-with your sun-beamed eyes-

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it, daughter-beaméd eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings

me out.

Biron. Is this your perfectness? begone, you rogue,

Ros. What would these strangers? know their
minds, Boyet:

If they do speak our language, 't is our will
That some plain man recount their purposes:
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace and gentle visita-
tion.

Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

Ros. 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 measured many miles,

To tread a measure with her on this grass.
Boyet. They say that they have measured

many a mile,

To tread a measure with you on this grass.

Ros. It is not so; ask them, how many inches Is in one mile: if they have measured many, The measure then of one is easily told.

Boyet. If to come hither you have measured

miles,

And many miles; the princess bids you tell
How many inches do fill up one mile.
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary

steps.

Boyet. She hears herself.

Ros.

How many weary steps,

Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,

Are numbered in the travel of one mile? Biron. 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 shew the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.

Ros. 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.

Ros. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water. King. Then, in our measure, do but vouchsafe

one change:

Thou bidd'st me beg; this begging is not strange.

soon.

Ros. Play, music, then: nay, you must do it [Music plays. Not yet; no dance :-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

Ros. 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. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it. King.

But your legs should do it.

Ros. 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?

:

Ros. Only to part friends :Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice.

Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. King. Prize you yourselves; what buys your company?

Ros. Your absence only.

Long. One word in private with you, ere I die. Kath. 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.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!

King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

[Exeunt KING, LORDS, MOTH, Music, and

Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. 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.
Prin. 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.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.

Boyet. Fair ladies masked, are roses in their bud:

Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shewn,

Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

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 advised, Let's mock them still, as well known as disguised: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder what they were; and to what end Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penned, 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, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, 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 picks up wit as pigeons

peas,

And utters it again when God doth please:
He is wit's pedlar; and retails his wares
At wakes and wassels, 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.
He can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he
That kissed away his hand 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 flower that smiles on every one,
To shew his teeth as white as whalés-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; ROSA-
LINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants.
Biron. See where it comes!-Behaviour, what
wert thou,

Till this man shewed thee? and what art thou now?

King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time

of day!

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. Frin. This field shall hold me; and so hold

your vow:

Nor God nor I delight in perjured men.
King. Rebuke me not for that which you pro-

voke!

The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. 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 lived in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.