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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 person, quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one?

Cost. Marry, master school-master, 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 gelida quando pecus omne

sub umbra

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

-Vinegia, Vinegia,

Chi non te vede, ei non te pregia.

Old Mantuan! Old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not. Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. -Under pardon, Sir, "what contents? Or, rather, as Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses ?

are the

Nath. Ay, Sir, and very learned.

Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse; Lege domine.

Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I

swear to love,

Ah never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow

ed!

Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine

eyes; Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend:

commend:

If knowledge be the mark to know thee shall suffice; Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee [der; All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without won(Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts ad

VOL. II.

mire ;)

F

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his

dreadful thunder,

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

tongue!

Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent: let me supervize the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified: but for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man and why, indeed, Naso; 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.

Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous lady Rosaline. I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto:

Your ladyship's in all desired employment, Biron. 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, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.-Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the 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.

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

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

Nath. Marvellous well for the pen.

Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto;

• Horse adorned with ribbands.

!

where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society.

Nath. And thank you too: for society, (saith the text,) is the happiness of life.

Hol. And, certes, the text most 'infallibly concludes it. Sir, [To Dull.] I do invite you too; you shall not say me, nay; pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt.

SCENE IIL-Another part of the same.

Enter BIRON with a Paper.

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:-l' 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 :

• In truth.

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 couch doth carry thee,
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe;
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-
[Aside.

pear!

Long. Ah me! I am forsworn.

Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing

papers.

[Aside.

King. In love, I hope; Sweet fellowship in

shame!

[Aside.

Biron. One drunkard loves another of the name.

[Aside.

Long. Am I the first that have been perjured so Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort; not

by two, that I know:

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

ciety,

The shape of love's Tyburn that hangs up sim[move:

plicity.

Long. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to O sweet Maria, empress of my love!

These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

Biron. [Aside.] O, rhymes are guards on wanton

Cupid's hose: Disfigure not his slop.

Long. 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, Thou being a goddess, 1 forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ; 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 dost shine, Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is:

If broken then, it is no fault of mine; If by me broke, What fool is not so wise, 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 outo' the

way.

Enter DUMAIN, with a Paper.

stay.

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

[Aside

Dum. By heaven, the wonder of a mortal eye! Biron. By earth, she is but corporal; there you

lie.

[Aside.

Dum. Her amber hairs for foul have amber coted*. Biron. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.

[Aside.

Dum. As upright as the cedar.

Biron. Stoop, I say;

Her shoulder is with child.

[Aside.

Dum. As fair as day.

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

shine.

[Aside.

Dum. O that I had my wish!

Long. And I had mine!

[Aside.

King. And I mine too, good lord !

[Aside.

Biron. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good

word?

[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 incision

Would let her out in saucers; Sweet misprision!

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

writ.

• Outstripped, surpassed.

[Aside.

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