Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; 130 Being but the one half of an entire sum

Disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say that he or we, as neither have,
Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the
which,

One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,

Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitaine,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitaine;

Which we much rather had depart* withal
And have the money by our father lent
Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far

140

*Part.

150

From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong

And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back
Or yield up Aquitaine.

Prin.
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a sum from special officers
Of Charles his father.

We arrest your word. 160

King.

Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not

come

Where that and other specialties are bound:

To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto.

170

Meantime receive such welcome at my hand
As honour without breach of honour may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so received
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort*
your grace!
*Accompany.

[Exit.

King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! Biron. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.

180

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 the heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physic says 'ay.'

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No point, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

Ros. And yours from long living!

190

Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Katharine 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?

200

[Exit Long.

210

Biron. What's her name in the cap?

Boyet. Rosaline, 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. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap

lord:

Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet.

And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.

Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry.

Boyet.

No sheep, sweet lamb,

And wherefore not ships? 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.

221

[Offering to kiss her.

Not so, gentle beast:

My lips are no common, though several* they be.

*Land not common but appropriated.

Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Μαν.

To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gen

tles, agree:

This civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.

Boyet. If my observation, which very seldom lies, By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. 230 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: His heart, like an agate, with your print impress'd,

Proud with his form, in his eye pride express'd:
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair, 240
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:

Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
Who, tendering their own worth from where they
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd:
His face's own margent* did quote such amazes
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
I'll give you Aquitaine and all that is his, *Margin.
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed.
Boyet. But to speak that in words which his
eye hath disclosed.

250

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 speakest
skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather and learns 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.

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 festinately* hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love. *Quickly. Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl ?*

*Dance.

Arm. How meanest thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary* 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 me?-that most are affected to these.

*Lively dance. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. By my penny of observation. Arm. But O, but 0,

Moth.

The hobby-horse is forgot.'

30

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.