Page images

l'envoy; begin.

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,e,-thy | rance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: Bear this significant to the country-maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [Giving him money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, re[Exit. warding my dependents. Moth, follow. Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard,

Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain ! Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve?

Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?

Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain

Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.

I will example it:

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. There's the moral: Now the l'envoy.

Moth. I will add the l'envoy: Say the moral again.

Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three:
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding four.

Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow
with my l'envoy.

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three: Arm. Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four.

Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; Would desire more?


Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat:

Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be

[blocks in formation]

loose :

Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?

Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.

Then call'd you for the l'envoy.

Cost. True, and I for a plantain; Thus came your argument in ;

Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;

And he ended the market.

Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin?

Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy :

I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost. Till there be no more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances:-I smell
some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Arm. By ny sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.

Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from du

(1) An old French term for concluding verses, which served either to convey the moral, or to address the poem to some person. (2) Delightful. (3) Reward.

[ocr errors]


Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony2 Jew![Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remuneration.-What's the price of this inkle? a penny:-No, I'll give you a remuneration: why, it carries it.-Remuneration!why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word.

Enter Biron.

Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met.

Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Biron. What is a remuneration?

Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing.
Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk.
Cost. I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is.
Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this:

The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her


And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon ;3 go.
[Gives him money.

Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than
remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most
sweet guerdon!-—I will do it, sir, in print.4-Guer-

Biron. O-And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;

A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting paritors, O my little heart!—
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,

(4) With the utmost exactness.
(5) Hooded, veiled. (6) Petticoats.
(7) The officers of the spiritual courts who serve


Enter Costard.

Still a repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard :
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her'
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan;
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.



SCENE I-Another part of the same.
the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet,
Lords, attendants, and a Forester.

Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse

so hard

Against the steep uprising of the hill?

Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting


Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.-
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murderer in?
For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand, where you may make the fairest shoot.
Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot.
For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.

Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again

say, no?

O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for wo!
For. Yea, madam, fair.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
[Giving him money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
Prin. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!

Prin. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.

Cost. God dig-you-den1 all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin. The thickest, and the tallest.

Cost. The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; truth
is truth.

An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, One of these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.

Are not

you the chief woman! you are the thickest here.

Prin. What's your will, sir? what's your will? Cost. I have a letter from monsieur Biron, to one lady Rosaline.

Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter; he's a good friend
of mine:

Break up this capon.2
Stand aside, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve ;

I am bound to serve.

Boyet. This letter is mistook, it importeth none here; It is writ to Jaquenetta. Prin. We will read it, I swear: Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; Boyet. [Reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair, truth itself, that thou art lovely: More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous; truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate3 king Cobeggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might phetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar !) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, Why did he come? to see; Why did he see? to |two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar; What saw he? the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar: The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd; On whose side? the beggar's; The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whose side? the king's-no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.-thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for

But come, the bow :-Now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart:
As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sove-

Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord.

(1) God give you good even.
(2) Open this letter. (3) Ilustrious.

rags? robes; For tittles, titles: For thyself, me.
Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on
thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart
on thy every part.

Thine, in the dearest design of industry.
Don Adriano de Armado.
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play:
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.

Prin. What plume of feathers is he, that indited
this letter?

What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?

Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember

the style.

Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it


(4) Just now.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps || When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it

here in court;

A phantasm, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
To the prince, and his book-mates.

Thou, fellow, a word:
Who gave thee this letter?
I told you; my lord.
Prin. To whom should'st thou give it?
From my lord to my lady.
Prin. From which lord, to which lady?
Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come,
lords, away.
Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princess and Train.
Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?
Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.
Why, she that bears the bow.

Finely put off!

Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou


Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on!

Ros. Well then, I am the shooter.
And who is your deer?
Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come


Finely put on, indeed!—

Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.

Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: Have I hit her now?

were, so fit.

Armatho o' the one side,--O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan!
To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly
a' will swear!-

And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
Sola, sola!

SCENE II.-The same.

[Shouting within. [Exit Costard, running.

Enter Holofernes, Sir

Nathaniel, and Dull.

Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis,blood; ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of calo,-the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,-the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least: But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his inclination,-after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion-to insert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; say-'twas a pricket.

Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old ing, that was a man when king Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it. [Singing
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can.

[Exeunt Ros. and Kath.

[blocks in formation]

Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul.

Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; lenge her to bowl.


Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus !-O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not in the duller parts; replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible

And such barren plants are set before us, that we
thankful should be

(Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts
that do fructify in us more than he.
For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet,
or a fool,

So, were there a patch2 set on learning, to see him
in a school:

But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.

Dull. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your wit,

What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dictynna, good man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull.

Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam

was no more;

And raught not to five weeks, when he came to five score.

The allusion holds in the exchange.

Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; Good night, my
good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria.
Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown!
Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!sion holds in the exchange.
O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.


(1) A species of apple. (2) A low fellow.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allu

Dull. And I say the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old:

(3) Reached.



and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the prin- Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful cess kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the princess kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it
argues facility.

The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty
pleasing pricket;

Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made |
sore with shooting.

The dogs did yell; put L to sore, then sorel jumps
from thicket;

Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a

If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores; 0

sore L!

Of one sore I a hundred make, by adding but one more L.

Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.


Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine



Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suf


Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend:

All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder; (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire ;)

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his
dreadful thunder,

Celestial, as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong,
Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire.
That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly

Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple;dius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso; facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovia foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion: But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.


but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari, is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider.-But damosella virgin, was this directed to you?

Jaq. Ay, sir, from one monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady RosaHol. I will overglance the superscript. To the by you, and their daughters profit very greatly un-line. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, der you: you are a good member of the common-for the nomination of the party writing to the person wealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us.

Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.
Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person.
Hol. Master parson, quasi pers-on. And if
should be pierced, which is the one?


Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho: I beseech you, read it.

Hol. Fauste, precor gelidâ quando pecus omne
sub umbrâ.

Ruminat, and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan!
I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice:
Vinegia, Vinegia,

written unto :

Your ladyship's in all desired employment,


Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.royal hand of the king; it may concern much: Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu!" Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save

your life!

Cost. Have with thee, my girl.

very religiously; and, as a certain father saith-
[Exeunt Cost. and Jaq.
Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God,

Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father, I do fear
Did they please you, sir Nathaniel?
colourable colours. But, to return to the verses;

Nath. Marvellous well for the

pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain Chi non te vede, ei non te pregia. please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth said child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; on my privilege I have with the parents of the forethee not, loves thee not.-Ul, re, sol, la, mi, fa.ed, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? where I will prove those verses to be very unlearnas Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses? or, rather, Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned. Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege,

[blocks in formation]

Biron, with a paper.

SCENE III.—Another part of the same. Enter These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
Biron. [Aside.] O, rhymes are guards on wanton
Cupid's hose:
Disfigure not his slop.

Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am
coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil; I am
toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles; defile! a foul
word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so, they
say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool.
Well proved, wit! By the lord, this love is as mad
as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep:
Well proved again on my side! I will not love: if
I do, hang me; i'faith, I will not. O, but her eye,-|
by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her:
yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the
world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I
do love and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to
be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and
here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my
sonnets already; the clown bore it, the fool sent it,
and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool,
sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a
pin if the other three were in: Here comes one
with a paper; God give him grace to groan!
[Gets up into a tree.

Enter the King, with a paper.

King. Ah me!

Biron. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven!-Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap:-I'faith secrets.—

King. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun
gives not

To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep:
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee,
So ridest thou triumphing in my wo;
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,

And they thy glory through thy grief will show:
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel!
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.-|
How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper;
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
[Steps aside.

Enter Longaville, with a paper.

What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
Biron. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool, ap-

Long. Ah me! I am forsworn.

Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wear-
ing papers.
King. In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in
Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name?

Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?
Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not
by two, that I know:

Thou mak'st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,

The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.

Long. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to

[blocks in formation]

This same shall go.

[He reads the sonnet.

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye
(Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,)
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but, I will prove,
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee;

Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth doth
Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is:

If by me broke, What fool is not so wise,
If broken then, it is no fault of mine;
To lose an oath to win a paradise?

Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein, which
makes flesh a deity;

A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the way.

Enter Dumain, with a paper.


Long. By whom shall I send this?-Company!
[Stepping aside.
Biron. [Aside.] All hid, all hid, an old infant

Like a demi-god here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye.
More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish;
Dumain transform'd: four woodcocks in a dish!
Dum. O most divine Kate!

Biron. O most profane coxcomb! [Aside.
Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye!
Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you


Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted.1

Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.

Her shoulder is with child.

Stoop, I say;

As fair as day.


And I had mine! [Aside.

Biron. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must


Dum. O that I had my wish!


King. And I mine too, good Lord! Aside.
Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good


[Aside. Dum. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember'd be. Biron. A fever in your blood, why, then inci


Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision! [Aside.

Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have

Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary

Dum. On a day (alack the day!)

Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.

« PreviousContinue »