Love's Labour's Lost

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act V, Scene I
Enter the Pedant, Curate and Dull.

Pedant.
Satis quid sufficit.

Curat.
I praise God for you sir, your reasons at
dinner haue beene sharpe & sententious: pleasant
without scurrillity, witty without affection, audacious
without impudency, learned without opinion, and
strange without heresie: I did conuerse this quondam
day with a companion of the Kings, who is intituled,
nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armatho.

Ped.
Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is
lofty, his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his
eye ambitious, his gate maiesticall, and his generall
behauiour vaine, ridiculous, and thrasonicall. He is too
picked, too spruce, too affected, too odde, as it were,
too peregrinat, as I may call it.

Curat.
A most singular and choise Epithat,
Draw out his Table-booke.

Peda.
He draweth out the thred of his verbositie,
finer then the staple of his argument. I abhor such
phanaticall phantasims, such insociable and poynt deuise
companions, such rackers of ortagriphie, as to
speake dout fine, when he should say doubt; det,
when he shold pronounce debt; d e b t, not det
he clepeth a Calf, Caufe: halfe, haufe: neighbour
vocatur nebour; neigh abreuiated ne: this is
abhominable, which he would call abhominable it
insinuateth me of infamie: ne inteligis domine, to
make franticke, lunaticke?

Cura.
Laus deo, bene intelligo.

Peda.
Bome boon for boon prescian, a little
scratcht, 'twil serue.

Curat.
Vides ne quis venit?

Peda.
Video, & gaudio.

Brag.
Chirra.

Peda.
Quari Chirra, not Sirra?

Brag.
Men of peace well incountred.

Ped.
Most millitarie sir salutation.

Boy.
They haue beene at a great feast of
Languages, and stolne the scraps.

Clow.

O they haue liu'd long on the almes-basket
of words. I maruell thy M. hath not eaten
thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as
honorificabilitudinitatibus: Thou art easier swallowed
then a flapdragon.

Page.
Peace, the peale begins.

Brag.

Mounsier, are you not lettred?

Page.
Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horne-booke: What is
Ab speld backward with the horn on his head?

Peda.
Ba, puericia with a horne added.

Pag.
Ba most seely Sheepe, with a horne: you heare
his learning.

Peda.
Quis quis, thou Consonant?

Pag.
The last of the fiue Vowels if You repeat them, or
the fift if I.

Peda.
I will repeat them: a e I.

Pag.
The Sheepe, the other two concludes it o u.

Brag.
Now by the salt waue of the mediteranium, a
sweet tutch, a quicke venewe of wit, snip snap, quick
& home, it reioyceth my intellect, true wit.

Page.
Offered by a childe to an olde man: which is
wit-old.

Peda.
What is the figure? What is the figure?

Page.
Hornes.

Peda.
Thou disputes like an Infant: goe whip thy
Gigge.

Pag.
Lend me your Horne to make one, and I will whip
about your Infamie vnum cita a gigge of a Cuckolds horne.

Clow.
And I had but one penny in the world, thou
shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread: Hold, there is the
very Remuneration I had of thy Maister, thou halfpenny
purse of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of discretion. O & the
heauens were so pleased, that thou wert but my Bastard;
What a ioyfull father wouldst thou make mee? Goe to,
thou hast it ad dungil, at the fingers ends, as they
say.

Peda.
Oh I smell false Latine, dunghel for
vnguem.

Brag.
Arts-man preambulat, we will bee singled
from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the
Charg-house on the top of the Mountaine?

Peda.
Or Mons the hill.

Brag.
At your sweet pleasure, for the Mountaine.

Peda.
I doe sans question.

Bra.
Sir, it is the Kings most sweet pleasure and
affection, to congratulate the Princesse at her Pauilion, in
the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude
call the after-noone.

Ped.
The posterior of the day, most generous
sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the
after-noone: the word is well culd, chose, sweet, and
apt I doe assure you sir, I doe assure.

Brag.
Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my
familiar, I doe assure ye very good friend: for what is
inward betweene vs, let it passe. I doe beseech thee
remember thy curtesie. I beseech thee apparell thy
head: and among other importunate & most serious
designes, and of great import indeed too: but let that
passe, for I must tell thee it will please his Grace (by the
world) sometime to leane vpon my poore shoulder, and
with his royall finger thus dallie with my excrement,
with my mustachio: but sweet heart, let that passe. By
the world I recount no fable, some certaine speciall
honours it pleaseth his greatnesse to impart to Armado
a Souldier, a man of trauell, that hath seene the world:
but let that passe; the very all of all is: but sweet
heart I do implore secrecie, that the King would haue
mee present the Princesse (sweet chucke) with some
delightfull ostentation, or show, or pageant, or anticke, or
fire-worke: Now, vnderstanding that the Curate and your
sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sodaine
breaking out of myrth (as it were) I haue acquainted
you withall, to the end to craue your assistance.

Peda.
Sir, you shall present before her the Nine
Worthies. Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment
of time, some show in the posterior of this day,
to bee rendred by our assistants the Kings command:
and this most gallant, illustrate and learned Gentleman,
before the Princesse: I say none so fit as to present the
Nine Worthies.

Curat.
Where will you finde men worthy enough to
present them?

Peda.
Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gentleman
Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his great
limme or ioynt) shall passe Pompey the great, the Page
Hercules.

Brag.
Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough
for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big as the end of
his Club.

Peda.
Shall I haue audience? he shall present
Hercules in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling
a Snake; and I will haue an Apologie for that
purpose.

Pag.
An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience hisse,
you may cry, Well done Hercules, now thou crushest
the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious,
though few haue the grace to doe it.

Brag.
For the rest of the Worthies?

Peda.
I will play three my selfe.

Pag.
Thrice worthy Gentleman.

Brag.
Shall I tell you a thing?

Peda.
We attend.

Brag.
We will haue, if this fadge not, an Antique. I
beseech you follow.

Ped.
Via good-man Dull, thou hast spoken no
word all this while.

Dull.
Nor vnderstood none neither sir.

Ped.
Alone, we will employ thee.

Dull.
Ile make one in a dance, or so: or I will play on
the taber to the Worthies, & let them dance the
hey.

Ped.
Most Dull, honest Dull, to our sport
away.
Exit.
Original text
Act V, Scene II
Enter Ladies.

Qu.
Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds:
Look you, what I haue from the louing King.

Rosa.
Madam, came nothing else along with that?

Qu.
Nothing but this: yes as much loue in Rime,
As would be cram'd vp in a sheet of paper
Writ on both sides the leafe, margent and all,
That he was faine to seale on Cupids name.

Rosa.
That was the way to make his god-head wax:
For he hath beene fiue thousand yeeres a Boy.

Kath.
I, and a shrewd vnhappy gallowes too.

Ros.
You'll nere be friends with him, a kild your sister.

Kath.
He made her melancholy, sad, and heauy,
and so she died: had she beene Light like you,
of such a merrie nimble stirring spirit,
she might a bin a Grandam ere she died.
And so may you: For a light heart liues long.

Ros.
What's your darke meaning mouse, of this light word?

Kat.
A light condition in a beauty darke.

Ros.
We need more light to finde your meaning out.

Kat.
You'll marre the light by taking it in snuffe:
Therefore Ile darkely end the argument.

Ros.
Look what you doe, you doe it stil i'th darke.

Kat.
So do not you, for you are a light Wench.

Ros.
Indeed I waigh not you, and therefore light.

Ka.
You waigh me not, O that's you care not for me.

Ros.
Great reason: for past care, is still past cure.

Qu.
Well bandied both, a set of Wit well played.
But Rosaline, you haue a Fauour too?
Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros.
I would you knew.
And if my face were but as faire as yours,
My Fauour were as great, be witnesse this.
Nay, I haue Verses too, I thanke Berowne,
The numbers true, and were the numbring too,
I were the fairest goddesse on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O he hath drawne my picture in his letter.

Qu.
Any thing like?

Ros.
Much in the letters, nothing in the praise.

Qu.
Beauteous as Incke: a good conclusion.

Kat.
Faire as a text B. in a Coppie booke.

Ros.
Ware pensals. How? Let me not die your debtor,
My red Dominicall, my golden letter.
O that your face were full of Oes.

Qu.
A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes:
But Katherine, what was sent to you / From faire Dumaine?

Kat.
Madame, this Gloue.

Qu.
Did he not send you twaine?

Kat.
Yes Madame: and moreouer,
Some thousand Verses of a faithfull Louer.
A huge translation of hypocrisie,
Vildly compiled, profound simplicitie.

Mar.
This, and these Pearls, to me sent Longauile.
The Letter is too long by halfe a mile.

Qu.
I thinke no lesse: Dost thou wish in heart
The Chaine were longer, and the Letter short.

Mar.
I, or I would these hands might neuer part.

Quee.
We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so.

Ros.
They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe.
O that I knew he were but in by th'weeke,
How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke,
And wait the season, and obserue the times,
And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes.
And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice,
And make him proud to make me proud that iests.
So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state,
That he shold be my foole, and I his fate.

Qu.
None are so surely caught, when they are catcht,
As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:
Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole,
And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole?

Ros.
The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse,
As grauities reuolt to wantons be.

Mar.
Follie in Fooles beares not so strong a note,
As fool'ry in the Wise, when Wit doth dote:
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To proue by Wit, worth in simplicitie.
Enter Boyet.

Qu.
Heere comes Boyet, and mirth in his face.

Boy.
O I am stab'd with laughter, Wher's her Grace?

Qu.
Thy newes Boyet?

Boy.
Prepare Madame, prepare.
Arme Wenches arme, incounters mounted are,
Against your Peace, Loue doth approach, disguis'd:
Armed in arguments, you'll be surpriz'd.
Muster your Wits, stand in your owne defence,
Or hide your heads like Cowards, and flie hence.

Qu.
Saint Dennis to S. Cupid: What are they,
That charge their breath against vs? Say scout say.

Boy.
Vnder the coole shade of a Siccamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some halfe an houre:
When lo to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest,
The King and his companions: warely
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And ouer-heard, what you shall ouer-heare:
That by and by disguis'd they will be heere.
Their Herald is a pretty knauish Page:
That well by heart hath con'd his embassage,
Action and accent did they teach him there.
Thus must thou speake, and thus thy body beare.
And euer and anon they made a doubt,
Presence maiesticall would put him out:
For quoth the King, an Angell shalt thou see:
Yet feare not thou, but speake audaciously.
The Boy reply'd, An Angell is not euill:
I should haue fear'd her, had she beene a deuill.
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wagg by their praises bolder.
One rub'd his elboe thus, and fleer'd, and swore,
A better speech was neuer spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come.
The third he caper'd and cried, All goes well.
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and downe he fell:
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zelous laughter so profound,
That in this spleene ridiculous appeares,
To checke their folly passions solemne teares.

Quee.
But what, but what, come they to visit vs?

Boy.
They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,
Like Muscouites, or Russians, as I gesse.
Their purpose is to parlee, to court, and dance,
And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance,
Vnto his seuerall Mistresse: which they'll know
By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow.

Queen.
And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt:
For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt,
And not a man of them shall haue the grace
Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face.
Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare,
And then the King will court thee for his Deare:
Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine,
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues
Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues.

Rosa.
Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight.

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

Queen.
The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs:
They doe it but in mocking merriment,
And mocke for mocke is onely my intent.
Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall,
To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall.
Vpon the next occasion that we meete,
With Visages displayd to talke and greete.

Ros.
But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't?

Quee.
No, to the death we will not moue a foot,
Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace:
But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face.

Boy.
Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart,
And quite diuorce his memory from his part.

Quee.
Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt,
The rest will ere come in, if he be out.
Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne:
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne.
So shall we stay mocking entended game,
And they well mockt, depart away with shame.
Sound.

Boy.
The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers come.
Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech,
and the rest of the Lords disguised.

Page.
All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth.

Ber.
Beauties no richer then rich Taffata.

Pag.
A holy parcell of the fairest dames
The Ladies turne their backes
to him.
that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes.

Ber.
Their eyes villaine, their eyes.

Pag.
That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes.
Out

Boy.
True, out indeed.

Pag.
Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe
Not to beholde.

Ber.
Once to behold, rogue.

Pag.
Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes,
With your Sunne beamed eyes.

Boy.
They will not answer to that Epythite,
You were best call it Daughter beamed eyes.

Pag.
They do not marke me, and that brings me out.

Bero.
Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue.

Rosa.
What would these strangers? / Know their mindes Boyet.
If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will
That some plaine man recount their purposes.
Know what they would?

Boyet.
What would you with the Princes?

Ber.
Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Ros.
What would they, say they?

Boy.
Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Rosa.
Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon.

Boy.
She saies you haue it, and you may be gon.

Kin.
Say to her we haue measur'd many miles,
To tread a Measure with you on the grasse.

Boy.
They say that they haue measur'd many a mile,
To tread a Measure with you on this grasse.

Rosa.
It is not so. Aske them how many inches
Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie,
The measure then of one is easlie told.

Boy.
If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles,
And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell,
How many inches doth fill vp one mile?

Ber.
Tell her we measure them by weary steps.

Boy.
She heares her selfe.

Rosa.
How manie wearie steps,
Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone,
Are numbred in the trauell of one mile?

Bero.
We number nothing that we spend for you,
Our dutie is so rich, so infinite,
That we may doe it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of your face,
That we (like sauages) may worship it.

Rosa.
My face is but a Moone and clouded too.

Kin.
Blessed are clouds, to doe as such clouds do.
Vouchsafe bright Moone, and these thy stars to shine,
(Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne.

Rosa.
O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter,
Thou now requests but Mooneshine in the water.

Kin.
Then in our measure, vouchsafe but one change.
Thou bidst me begge, this begging is not strange.

Rosa.
Play musicke then: nay you must doe it soone.
Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moone.

Kin.
Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

Rosa.
You tooke the Moone at full, but now shee's changed?


Kin.
Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man.
The musick playes, vouchsafe some motion to it.

Rosa.
Our eares vouchsafe it.

Kin.
But your legges should doe it.

Ros.
Since you are strangers, & come here by chance,
Wee'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance.

Kin.
Why take you hands then?

Rosa.
Onelie to part friends.
Curtsie sweet hearts, and so the Measure ends.

Kin.
More measure of this measure, be not nice.

Rosa.
We can afford no more at such a price.

Kin.
Prise your selues: What buyes your companie?

Rosa.
Your absence onelie.

Kin.
That can neuer be.

Rosa.
Then cannot we be bought: and so adue,
Twice to your Visore, and halfe once to you.

Kin.
If you denie to dance, let's hold more chat.

Ros.
In priuate then.

Kin.
I am best pleas'd with that.

Be.
White handed Mistris, one sweet word with thee.

Qu.
Hony, and Milke, and Suger: there is three.

Ber.
Nay then two treyes, an if you grow so nice
Methegline, Wort, and Malmsey; well runne dice:
There's halfe a dozen sweets.

Qu.
Seuenth sweet adue,
since you can cogg, / Ile play no more with you.

Ber.
One word in secret.

Qu.
Let it not be sweet.

Ber.
Thou greeu'st my gall.

Qu.
Gall, bitter.

Ber.
Therefore meete.


Du.
Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?

Mar.
Name it.

Dum.
Faire Ladie:

Mar.
Say you so? Faire Lord:
Take you that for your faire Lady.

Du.
Please it you,
As much in priuate, and Ile bid adieu.


Mar.
What, was your vizard made without a tong?

Long.
I know the reason Ladie why you aske.

Mar.
O for your reason, quickly sir, I long.

Long.
You haue a double tongue within your mask.
And would affoord my speechlesse vizard halfe.

Mar.
Veale quoth the Dutch-man: is not Veale a Calfe?

Long.
A Calfe faire Ladie?

Mar.
No, a faire Lord Calfe.

Long.
Let's part the word.

Mar.
No, Ile not be your halfe:
Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe.

Long.
Looke how you but your selfe in these sharpe mockes.
Will you giue hornes chast Ladie? Do not so.

Mar.
Then die a Calfe before your horns do grow.

Lon.
One word in priuate with you ere I die.

Mar.
Bleat softly then, the Butcher heares you cry.

Boyet.
The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the Razors edge, inuisible:
Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene,
Aboue the sense of sence so sensible:
Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings,
Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things

Rosa.
Not one word more my maides, breake off, breake off.

Ber.
By heauen, all drie beaten with pure scoffe.

King.
Farewell madde Wenches, you haue simple wits.
Exeunt.
Qu.
Twentie adieus my frozen Muscouits.
Are these the breed of wits so wondred at?

Boyet.
Tapers they are, with your sweete breathes puft out.

Rosa.
Wel-liking wits they haue, grosse, grosse, fat, fat.

Qu.
O pouertie in wit, Kingly poore flout.
Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night?
Or euer but in vizards shew their faces:
This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite.

Rosa.
They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping ripe for a good word.

Qu.
Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite.

Mar.
Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword:
No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute.

Ka.
Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
And trow you what he call'd me?

Qu.
Qualme perhaps.

Kat.
Yes in good faith.

Qu.
Go sicknesse as thou art.

Ros.
Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps,
But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne.

Qu.
And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me.

Kat.
And Longauill was for my seruice borne.

Mar.
Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree.

Boyet.
Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare,
Immediately they will againe be heere
In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
They will digest this harsh indignitie.

Qu.
Will they returne?

Boy.
They will they will, God knowes,
And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire.

Qu.
How blow? how blow? Speake to bee vnderstood.

Boy.
Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud:
Dismaskt, their damaske sweet commixture showne,
Are Angels vailing clouds, or Roses blowne.

Qu.
Auant perplexitie: What shall we do,
If they returne in their owne shapes to wo?

Rosa.
Good Madam, if by me you'l be aduis'd,
Let's mocke them still as well knowne as disguis'd:
Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare,
Disguis'd like Muscouites in shapelesse geare:
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildely pen'd:
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our Tent to vs.

Boyet.
Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand.

Quee.
Whip to our Tents, as Roes runnes ore Land.
Exeunt.
Enter the King and the rest.

King.
Faire sir, God saue you. Wher's the Princesse?

Boy.
Gone to her Tent. / Please it your Maiestie
command me any seruice to her?

King.
That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.

Boy.
I will, and so will she, I know my Lord.
Exit.

Ber.
This fellow pickes vp wit as Pigeons pease,
And vtters it againe, when Ioue doth please.
He is Wits Pedler, and retailes his Wares,
At Wakes, and Wassels, Meetings, Markets, Faires.
And we that sell by grosse, the Lord doth know,
Haue not the grace to grace it with such show.
This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue.
Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eue.
He can carue too, and lispe: Why this is he,
That kist away his hand in courtesie.
This is the Ape of Forme, Monsieur the nice,
That when he plaies at Tables, chides the Dice
In honorable tearmes: Nay he can sing
A meane most meanly, and in Vshering
Mend him who can: the Ladies call him sweete.
The staires as he treads on them kisse his feete.
This is the flower that smiles on euerie one,
To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone.
And consciences that wil not die in debt,
Pay him the dutie of honie-tongued Boyet.

King.
A blister on his sweet tongue with my hart,
That put Armathoes Page out of his part.
Enter the Ladies.

Ber.
See where it comes. Behauiour what wer't thou,
Till this madman shew'd thee? And what art thou now?

King.
All haile sweet Madame, and faire time of day.

Qu.
Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceiue.

King.
Construe my speeches better, if you may.

Qu.
Then wish me better, I wil giue you leaue.

King.
We came to visit you, and purpose now
To leade you to our Court, vouchsafe it then.

Qu.
This field shal hold me, and so hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delights in periur'd men.

King.
Rebuke me not for that which you prouoke:
The vertue of your eie must breake my oth.

Q.
You nickname vertue: vice you should haue spoke:
For vertues office neuer breakes men troth.
Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
As the vnsallied Lilly, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yeeld to be your houses guest:
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie.

Kin.
O you haue liu'd in desolation heere,
Vnseene, vnuisited, much to our shame.

Qu.
Not so my Lord, it is not so I sweare,
We haue had pastimes heere, and pleasant game,
A messe of Russians left vs but of late.

Kin.
How Madam? Russians?

Qu.
I in truth, my Lord.
Trim gallants, full of Courtship and of state.

Rosa.
Madam speake true. It is not so my Lord:
My Ladie (to the manner of the daies)
In curtesie giues vndeseruing praise.
We foure indeed confronted were with foure
In Russia habit: Heere they stayed an houre,
And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord)
They did not blesse vs with one happy word.
I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke,
When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke.

Ber.
This iest is drie to me. Gentle sweete,
Your wits makes wise things foolish when we greete
With eies best seeing, heauens fierie eie:
By light we loose light; your capacitie
Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore,
Wise things seeme foolish, and rich things but poore.

Ros.
This proues you wise and rich: for in my eie

Ber.
I am a foole, and full of pouertie.

Ros.
But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.

Ber.
O, I am yours, and all that I possesse.

Ros.
All the foole mine.

Ber.
I cannot giue you lesse.

Ros.
Which of the Vizards what it that you wore?

Ber.
Where? when? What Vizard? / Why demand you this?

Ros.
There, then, that vizard, that superfluous case,
That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face.

Kin.
We are discried, / They'l mocke vs now downeright.

Du.
Let vs confesse, and turne it to a iest.

Que.
Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes sadde?

Rosa.
Helpe hold his browes, hee'l sound: why looke you pale?
Sea-sicke I thinke comming from Muscouie.

Ber.
Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury.
Can any face of brasse hold longer out?
Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me,
Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout.
Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance.
Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,
Nor neuer more in Russian habit waite.
O! neuer will I trust to speeches pen'd,
Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue.
Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend,
Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue,
Taffata phrases, silken tearmes precise,
Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection;
Figures pedanticall, these summer flies,
Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forsweare them, and I heere protest,
By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows)
Henceforth my woing minde shall be exprest
In russet yeas, and honest kersie noes.
And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law,
My loue to thee is sound, sans cracke or flaw.

Rosa.
Sans, sans, I pray you.

Ber.
Yet I haue a tricke
Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke.
Ile leaue it by degrees: soft, let vs see,
Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three,
They are infected, in their hearts it lies:
They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
These Lords are visited, you are not free:
For the Lords tokens on you do I see.

Qu.
No, they are free that gaue these tokens to vs.

Ber.
Our states are forfeit, seeke not to vndo vs.

Ros.
It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue.

Ber.
Peace, for I will not haue to do with you.

Ros.
Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.

Ber.
Speake for your selues, my wit is at an end.

King.
Teach vs sweete Madame, for our rude transgression,
some faire excuse.

Qu.
The fairest is confession.
Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd?

Kin.
Madam, I was.

Qu.
And were you well aduis'd?

Kin.
I was faire Madam.

Qu.
When you then were heere,
What did you whisper in your Ladies eare?

King.
That more then all the world I did respect her

Qu.
When shee shall challenge this, you will reiect her.

King.
Vpon mine Honor no.

Qu.
Peace, peace, forbeare:
your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare.

King.
Despise me when I breake this oath of mine.

Qu.
I will, and therefore keepe it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your eare?

Ros.
Madam, he swore that he did hold me deare
As precious eye-sight, and did value me
Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer,
That he would Wed me, or else die my Louer.

Qu.
God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord
Most honorably doth vphold his word.

King.
What meane you Madame? / By my life, my troth
I neuer swore this Ladie such an oth.

Ros.
By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine,
you gaue me this: But take it sir againe.

King.
My faith and this, the Princesse I did giue,
I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue.

Qu.
Pardon me sir, this Iewell did she weare,
And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare.
What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe?

Ber.
Neither of either, I remit both twaine.
I see the tricke on't: Heere was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas Comedie.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Zanie,
Some mumble-newes, some trencher-knight, som Dick
That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd;
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The Ladies did change Fauours; and then we
Following the signes, woo'd but the signe of she.
Now to our periurie, to adde more terror,
We are againe forsworne in will and error.

Much vpon this tis: and might not you
Forestall our sport, to make vs thus vntrue?
Do not you know my Ladies foot by'th squier?
And laugh vpon the apple of her eie?
And stand betweene her backe sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, iesting merrilie?
You put our Page out: go, you are alowd.
Die when you will, a smocke shall be your shrowd.
You leere vpon me, do you? There's an eie
Wounds like a Leaden sword.

Boy.
Full merrily
hath this braue manager, this carreere bene run.

Ber.
Loe, he is tilting straight. Peace, I haue don.
Enter Clowne.
Welcome pure wit, thou part'st a faire fray.

Clo.
O Lord sir, they would kno,
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no.

Ber.
What, are there but three?

Clo.
No sir, but it is vara fine,
For euerie one pursents three.

Ber.
And three times thrice is nine.

Clo.
Not so sir, vnder correction sir, I hope it is not so.
You cannot beg vs sir, I can assure you sir, we know what we know:
I hope sir three times thrice sir.

Ber.
Is not nine.

Clo.
Vnder correction sir, wee know where-vntill it
doth amount.

Ber.
By Ioue, I alwaies tooke three threes for nine.

Clow.
O Lord sir, it were pittie you should get your
liuing by reckning sir.

Ber.
How much is it?

Clo.
O Lord sir, the parties themselues, the actors
sir will shew where-vntill it doth amount: for mine
owne part, I am (as they say, but to perfect one man in
one poore man) Pompion the great sir.

Ber.
Art thou one of the Worthies?

Clo.
It pleased them to thinke me worthie of Pompey
the great: for mine owne part, I know not the degree
of the Worthie, but I am to stand for him.

Ber.
Go, bid them prepare.

Clo.
We will turne it finely off sir, we wil take some
care.
Exit.

King.
Berowne, they will shame vs: / Let them not approach.

Ber.
We are shame-proofe my Lord: and 'tis some policie,
to haue one shew worse then the Kings and his companie.

Kin.
I say they shall not come.

Qu.
Nay my good Lord, let me ore-rule you now;
That sport best pleases, that doth least know how.
Where Zeale striues to content, and the contents
Dies in the Zeale of that which it presents:
Their forme confounded, makes most forme in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth.

Ber.
A right description of our sport my Lord.
Enter Braggart.

Brag.
Annointed, I implore so much expence of thy
royall sweet breath, as will vtter a brace of words.

Qu.
Doth this man serue God?

Ber.
Why aske you?

Qu.
He speak's not like a man of God's making.

Brag.
That's all one my faire sweet honie Monarch:
For I protest, the Schoolmaster is exceeding fantasticall:
Too too vaine, too too vaine. But we wil put it (as they
say) to Fortuna delaguar,

I wish you the peace of minde most royall cupplement.

King.
Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies;
He presents Hector of Troy, the Swaine
Pompey ye great, the Parish Curate Alexander,
Armadoes Page Hercules, the Pedant Iudas Machabeus:
And if these foure Worthies in their first shew thriue,
these foure will change habites, and present the other fiue.

Ber.
There is fiue in the first shew.

Kin.
You are deceiued, tis not so.

Ber.
The Pedant, the Braggart, the Hedge-Priest, the
Foole, and the Boy,
Abate throw at Novum, and the whole world againe,
Cannot pricke out fiue such, take each one in's vaine.

Kin.
The ship is vnder saile, and here she coms amain.
Enter Pompey.

Clo.
I Pompey am.

Ber.
You lie, you are not he.

Clo.
I Pompey am.

Boy.
With Libbards head on knee.

Ber.
Well said old mocker, / I must needs be friends with thee.

Clo.
I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big.

Du.
The great.

Clo.
It is great sir: / Pompey surnam'd the great:
That oft in field, with Targe and Shield, / did make my foe to sweat:
And trauailing along this coast, I heere am come by chance,
And lay my Armes before the legs of this sweet Lasse of France.
If your Ladiship would say thankes Pompey, I had
done.

La.
Great thankes great Pompey.

Clo.
Tis not so much worth: but I hope I was
perfect. I made a little fault in great.

Ber.
My hat to a halfe-penie, Pompey prooues the
best Worthie.
Enter Curate for Alexander.

Curat.
When in the world I liu'd, I was the worldes Commander:
By East, West, North, & South, I spred my conquering might
My Scutcheon plaine declares that I am Alisander.

Boiet.
Your nose saies no, you are not: / For it stands too right.

Ber.
Your nose smels no, in this most tender smelling Knight.

Qu.
The Conqueror is dismaid: / Proceede good Alexander.

Cur.
When in the world I liued, I was the worldes Commander.

Boiet.
Most true, 'tis right: you were so Alisander.

Ber.
Pompey the great.

Clo.
your seruant and Costard.

Ber.
Take away the Conqueror, take away
Alisander

Clo.
O sir, you haue ouerthrowne
Alisander the conqueror: you will be scrap'd out of
the painted cloth for this: your Lion that holds his
Pollax sitting on a close stoole, will be giuen to Aiax.
He will be the ninth worthie. A Conqueror, and affraid
to speake? Runne away for shame Alisander.

There an't shall please you: a foolish milde man, an
honest man, looke you, & soon dasht. He is a maruellous
good neighbour insooth, and a verie good Bowler:
but for Alisander, alas you see, how 'tis a little
ore-parted. But there are Worthies a comming, will speake
their minde in some other sort. Exit Cu.

Qu.
Stand aside good Pompey.
Enter Pedant for Iudas, and the Boy for Hercules.

Ped.
Great Hercules is presented by this Impe,
Whose Club kil'd Cerberus that three-headed Canus,
And when he was a babe, a childe, a shrimpe,
Thus did he strangle Serpents in his Manus:
Quoniam, he seemeth in minoritie,
Ergo, I come with this Apologie.
Keepe some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Exit Boy
Ped.
Iudas I am.

Dum.
A Iudas?

Ped.
Not Iscariot sir.

Iudas I am, ycliped Machabeus.

Dum.
Iudas Machabeus clipt, is plaine Iudas.

Ber.
A kissing traitor. How art thou prou'd
Iudas?

Ped.
Iudas I am.

Dum.
The more shame for you Iudas.

Ped.
What meane you sir?

Boi.
To make Iudas hang himselfe.

Ped.
Begin sir, you are my elder.

Ber.
Well follow'd, Iudas was hang'd on an Elder.

Ped.
I will not be put out of countenance.

Ber.
Because thou hast no face.

Ped.
What is this?

Boi.
A Citterne head.

Dum.
The head of a bodkin.

Ber.
A deaths face in a ring.

Lon.
The face of an old Roman coine, scarce
seene.

Boi.
The pummell of Casars Faulchion.

Dum.
The caru'd-bone face on a Flaske.

Ber.
S. Georges halfe cheeke in a brooch.

Dum.
I, and in a brooch of Lead.

Ber.
I, and worne in the cap of a Tooth-drawer. And
now forward, for we haue put thee in countenance

Ped.
You haue put me out of countenance.

Ber.
False, we haue giuen thee faces.

Ped.
But you haue out-fac'd them all.

Ber.
And thou wer't a Lion, we would do so.

Boy.
Therefore as he is, an Asse, let him go:
And so adieu sweet Iude. Nay, why dost thou stay?

Dum.
For the latter end of his name.

Ber.
For the Asse to the Iude: giue it him. Iud-as away.

Ped.
This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.

Boy.
A light for monsieur Iudas, it growes darke, he may stumble.

Que.
Alas poore Machabeus, how hath hee beene
baited.
Enter Braggart.

Ber.
Hide thy head Achilles, heere comes Hector in
Armes.

Dum.
Though my mockes come home by me, I will
now be merrie.

King.
Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.

Boi.
But is this Hector?

Kin.
I thinke Hector was not so cleane timber'd.

Lon.
His legge is too big for Hector.

Dum.
More Calfe certaine.

Boi.
No, he is best indued in the small.

Ber.
This cannot be Hector.

Dum.
He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces.

Brag.
The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty,
gaue Hector a gift.

Dum.
A gilt Nutmegge.

Ber.
A Lemmon.

Lon.
Stucke with Cloues.

Dum.
No clouen.

Brag.
The Armipotent Mars of Launces the almighty,
Gaue Hector a gift, the heire of Illion;
A man so breathed, that certaine he would fight: yea
From morne till night, out of his Pauillion.
I am that Flower.

Dum.
That Mint.

Long.
That Cullambine.

Brag.
Sweet Lord Longauill reine thy tongue.

Lon.
I must rather giue it the reine: for it runnes
against Hector.

Dum.
I, and Hector's a Grey-hound.

Brag.
The sweet War-man is dead and rotten, / Sweet
chuckes, beat not the bones of the buried:
But I will forward with my
deuice; / Sweet Royaltie bestow on me the sence of
hearing.
Berowne steppes forth.

Qu.
Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted.

Brag.
I do adore thy sweet Graces slipper.

Boy.
Loues her by the foot.

Dum.
He may not by the yard.

Brag.
This Hector farre surmounted Hanniball.
The partie is gone..

Clo.
Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two moneths
on her way.

Brag.
What meanest thou?

Clo.
Faith vnlesse you play the honest Troyan, the
poore Wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags
in her belly alreadie: tis yours.

Brag.
Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates?
Thou shalt die.

Clo.
Then shall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta
that is quicke by him, and hang'd for Pompey, that is
dead by him.

Dum.
Most rare Pompey.

Boi.
Renowned Pompey.

Ber.
Greater then great, great, great, great
Pompey: Pompey the huge.

Dum.
Hector trembles.

Ber.
Pompey is moued, more Atees more Atees stirre
them, or stirre them on.

Dum.
Hector will challenge him.

Ber.
I, if a'haue no more mans blood in's belly,
then will sup a Flea.

Brag.
By the North-pole I do challenge thee.

Clo.
I wil not fight with a pole like a Northern man;
Ile slash, Ile do it by the sword: I pray you let mee
borrow my Armes againe.

Dum.
Roome for the incensed Worthies.

Clo.
Ile do it in my shirt.

Dum.
Most resolute Pompey.

Page.
Master, let me take you a button hole lower: / Do you
not see Pompey is vncasing for the combat: what
meane you? you will lose your reputation.

Brag.
Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will not
combat in my shirt.

Du.
You may not denie it, Pompey hath made the
challenge.

Brag.
Sweet bloods, I both may, and will.

Ber.
What reason haue you for't?

Brag.
The naked truth of it is, I haue no shirt, / I go
woolward for penance.

Boy.
True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want of
Linnen: since when, Ile be sworne he wore none, but a
dishclout of Iaquenettas, and that hee weares next his
heart for a fauour.
Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.

Mar.
God saue you Madame.

Qu.
Welcome Marcade,
but that thou interruptest our merriment.

Marc.
I am sorrie Madam, for the newes I bring
is heauie in my tongue. The King your father

Qu.
Dead for my life.

Mar.
Euen so: My tale is told.

Ber.
Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud.

Brag.
For mine owne part, I breath free breath: I haue
seene the day of wrong, through the little hole of discretion,
and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.
Exeunt Worthies

Kin.
How fare's your Maiestie?

Qu.
Boyet prepare, I will away to night.

Kin.
Madame not so, I do beseech you stay.

Qu.
Prepare I say. I thanke you gracious Lords
For all your faire endeuours and entreats:
Out of a new sad-soule, that you vouchsafe,
In your rich wisedome to excuse, or hide,
The liberall opposition of our spirits,
If ouer-boldly we haue borne our selues,
In the conuerse of breath (your gentlenesse
Was guiltie of it.) Farewell worthie Lord:
A heauie heart beares not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so, comming so short of thankes,
For my great suite, so easily obtain'd.

Kin.
The extreme parts of time, extremelie formes
All causes to the purpose of his speed:
And often at his verie loose decides
That, which long processe could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progenie
Forbid the smiling curtesie of Loue:
The holy suite which faine it would conuince,
Yet since loues argument was first on foote,
Let not the cloud of sorrow iustle it
From what it purpos'd: since to waile friends lost,
Is not by much so wholsome profitable,
As to reioyce at friends but newly found.

Qu.
I vnderstand you not, my greefes are double.

Ber.
Honest plain words, best pierce the ears of griefe
And by these badges vnderstand the King,
For your faire sakes haue we neglected time,
Plaid foule play with our oaths: your beautie Ladies
Hath much deformed vs, fashioning our humors
Euen to the opposed end of our intents.
And what in vs hath seem'd ridiculous:
As Loue is full of vnbefitting straines,
All wanton as a childe, skipping and vaine.
Form'd by the eie, and therefore like the eie.
Full of straying shapes, of habits, and of formes
Varying in subiects as the eie doth roule,
To euerie varied obiect in his glance:
Which partie-coated presence of loose loue
Put on by vs, if in your heauenly eies,
Haue misbecom'd our oathes and grauities.
Those heauenlie eies that looke into these faults,
Suggested vs to make: therefore Ladies
Our loue being yours, the error that Loue makes
Is likewise yonrs. We to our selues proue false,
By being once false, for euer to be true
To those that make vs both, faire Ladies you.
And euen that falshood in it selfe a sinne,
Thus purifies it selfe, and turnes to grace.

Qu.
We haue receiu'd your Letters, full of Loue:
Your Fauours, the Ambassadors of Loue.
And in our maiden counsaile rated them,
At courtship, pleasant iest, and curtesie,
As bumbast and as lining to the time:
But more deuout then these are our respects
Haue we not bene, and therefore met your loues
In their owne fashion, like a merriment.

Du.
Our letters Madam, shew'd much more then iest.

Lon.
So did our lookes.

Rosa.
We did not coat them so.

Kin.
Now at the latest minute of the houre,
Grant vs your loues.

Qu.
A time me thinkes too short,
To make a world-without-end bargaine in;
No, no my Lord, your Grace is periur'd much,
Full of deare guiltinesse, and therefore this:
If for my Loue (as there is no such cause)
You will do ought, this shall you do for me.
Your oth I will not trust: but go with speed
To some forlorne and naked Hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world:
There stay, vntill the twelue Celestiall Signes
Haue brought about their annuall reckoning.
If this austere insociable life,
Change not your offer made in heate of blood:
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudie blossomes of your Loue,
But that it beare this triall, and last loue:
Then at the expiration of the yeare,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
And by this Virgin palme, now kissing thine,
I will be thine: and till that instant shut
My wofull selfe vp in a mourning house,
Raining the teares of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my Fathers death.
If this thou do denie, let our hands part,
Neither intitled in the others hart.

Kin.
If this, or more then this, I would denie,
To flatter vp these powers of mine with rest,
The sodaine hand of death close vp mine eie.
Hence euer then, my heart is in thy brest. / Ber. And what to me my Loue? and what to me? / Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd. / You are attaint with faults and periurie: / Therefore if you my fauor meane to get, / A tweluemonth shall you spend, and neuer rest, / But seeke the wearie beds of people sicke.

Du.
But what to me my loue? but what to me?
A wife?

Kat.
a beard, faire health, and honestie,
With three-fold loue, I wish you all these three.

Du.
O shall I say, I thanke you gentle wife?

Kat.
Not so my Lord, a tweluemonth and a day,
Ile marke no words that smoothfac'd wooers say.
Come when the King doth to my Ladie come:
Then if I haue much loue, Ile giue you some.

Dum.
Ile serue thee true and faithfully till then.

Kath.
Yet sweare not, least ye be forsworne agen.

Lon.
What saies Maria?

Mari.
At the tweluemonths end,
Ile change my blacke Gowne, for a faithfull friend.

Lon.
Ile stay with patience: but the time is long.

Mari.
The liker you, few taller are so yong.


Ber.
Studies my Ladie? Mistresse, looke on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eie:
What humble suite attends thy answer there,
Impose some seruice on me for my loue.

Ros.
Oft haue I heard of you my Lord Berowne,
Before I saw you: and the worlds large tongue
Proclaimes you for a man repleate with mockes,
Full of comparisons, and wounding floutes:
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercie of your wit.
To weed this Wormewood from your fruitfull braine,
And therewithall to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won:
You shall this tweluemonth terme from day to day,
Visite the speechlesse sicke, and still conuerse
With groaning wretches: and your taske shall be,
With all the fierce endeuour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

Ber.
To moue wilde laughter in the throate of death?
It cannot be, it is impossible.
Mirth cannot moue a soule in agonie.

Ros.
Why that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers giue to fooles:
A iests prosperitie, lies in the eare
Of him that heares it, neuer in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly eares,
Deaft with the clamors of their owne deare grones,
Will heare your idle scornes; continue then,
And I will haue you, and that fault withall.
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shal finde you emptie of that fault,
Right ioyfull of your reformation.

Ber.
A tweluemonth? Well: befall what will befall,
Ile iest a tweluemonth in an Hospitall.

Qu.
I sweet my Lord, and so I take my leaue.

King.
No Madam, we will bring you on your way.

Ber.
Our woing doth not end like an old Play:
Iacke hath not Gill: these Ladies courtesie
Might wel haue made our sport a Comedie.

Kin.
Come sir, it wants a tweluemonth and a day,
And then 'twil end.

Ber.
That's too long for a play.
Enter Braggart.

Brag.
Sweet Maiesty vouchsafe me.

Qu.
Was not that Hector?

Dum.
The worthie Knight of Troy.

Brag.
I wil kisse thy royal finger, and take leaue. I am
a Votarie, I haue vow'd to Iaquenetta to holde the Plough
for her sweet loue three yeares. But most esteemed
greatnesse, wil you heare the Dialogue that the two
Learned men haue compiled, in praise of the Owle and the
Cuckow? It should haue followed in the end of our
shew.

Kin.
Call them forth quickely, we will do so.

Brag.
Holla, Approach.
Enter all.
This side is Hiems, Winter. / This Ver, the Spring: the
one maintained by the Owle, / Th'other by the Cuckow.
Ver, begin.

The Song.
When Dasies pied, and Violets blew,
And Cuckow-buds of yellow hew:
And Ladie-smockes all siluer white,
Do paint the Medowes with delight.
The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
Mockes married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.
When Shepheards pipe on Oaten strawes,
And merrie Larkes are Ploughmens clockes:
When Turtles tread, and Rookes and Dawes,
And Maidens bleach their summer smockes:
The Cuckow then on euerie tree
Mockes married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.

Winter.
When Isicles hang by the wall,
And Dicke the Sphepheard blowes his naile;
And Tom beares Logges into the hall,
And Milke comes frozen home in paile:
When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle
Tu-whit
to-who. / A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.
When all aloud the winde doth blow,
And coffing drownes the Parsons saw:
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marrians nose lookes red and raw:
When roasted Crabs hisse in the bowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
Tu-whit
to who: / A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.

Brag.
The Words of Mercurie, / Are harsh after the songs
of Apollo: You that way; we this way.
Exeunt omnes.
Modern text
Act V, Scene I
Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, and Dull

HOLOFERNES
Satis quod sufficit.

NATHANIEL
I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at
dinner have been sharp and sententious, pleasant
without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious
without impudency, learned without opinion, and
strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam
day with a companion of the King's, who is entitled,
nominated, or called Don Adriano de Armado.

HOLOFERNES
Novi hominem tanquam te. His humour is
lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his
eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general
behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too
picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were,
too peregrinate, as I may call it.

NATHANIEL
A most singular and choice epithet.
He draws out his table-book

HOLOFERNES
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity
finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such
fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and point-device
companions, such rackers of orthography, as to
speak ‘dout’ sine ‘b’ when he should say ‘doubt,’ ‘det’
when he should pronounce ‘debt’ – d, e, b, t, not d, e,
t. He clepeth a calf ‘cauf’, half ‘hauf’; neighbour
vocatur ‘nebor’, neigh abbreviated ‘ne’. This is
abhominable, which he would call ‘abominable.’ It
insinuateth me of insanie. Ne intelligis, domine? To
make frantic, lunatic.

NATHANIEL
Laus Deo, bone intelligo.

HOLOFERNES
Bone? ‘ Bone ’ for ‘ bene ’! Priscian a little
scratched; 'twill serve.
Enter Armado, Mote, and Costard

NATHANIEL
Videsne quis venit?

HOLOFERNES
Video et gaudeo.

ARMADO
Chirrah!

HOLOFERNES
Quare ‘ chirrah ’, not ‘ sirrah ’?

ARMADO
Men of peace, well encountered.

HOLOFERNES
Most military sir, salutation.

MOTE
(to Costard)
They have been at a great feast of
languages and stolen the scraps.

COSTARD
(to Mote)
O, they have lived long on the alms-basket
of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten
thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as
honorificabilitudinitatibus. Thou art easier swallowed
than a flap-dragon.

MOTE
Peace! The peal begins.

ARMADO
(to Holofernes)
Monsieur, are you not lettered?

MOTE
Yes, yes! He teaches boys the horn-book. What is
a, b, spelt backward with the horn on his head?

HOLOFERNES
Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

MOTE
Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his
learning.

HOLOFERNES
Quis, quis, thou consonant?

MOTE
The last of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or
the fifth, if I.

HOLOFERNES
I will repeat them: a, e, i –

MOTE
The sheep. The other two concludes it – o, u.

ARMADO
Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a
sweet touch, a quick venue of wit! Snip, snap, quick
and home! It rejoiceth my intellect. True wit!

MOTE
Offered by a child to an old man – which is
wit-old.

HOLOFERNES
What is the figure? What is the figure?

MOTE
Horns.

HOLOFERNES
Thou disputes like an infant. Go, whip thy
gig.

MOTE
Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip
about your infamy manu cita. A gig of a cuckold's horn!

COSTARD
An I had but one penny in the world, thou
shouldst have it to buy gingerbread. Hold, there is the
very remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny
purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the
heavens were so pleased that thou wert but my bastard,
what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to,
thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they
say.

HOLOFERNES
O, I smell false Latin! ‘ Dunghill ’ for
unguem.

ARMADO
Arts-man, preambulate. We will be singuled
from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the
charge-house on the top of the mountain?

HOLOFERNES
Or mons, the hill.

ARMADO
At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.

HOLOFERNES
I do, sans question.

ARMADO
Sir, it is the King's most sweet pleasure and
affection to congratulate the Princess at her pavilion in
the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude
call the afternoon.

HOLOFERNES
The posterior of the day, most generous
sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the
afternoon. The word is well culled, choice, sweet, and
apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

ARMADO
Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my
familiar, I do assure ye, very good friend. For what is
inward between us, let it pass – I do beseech thee,
remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy
head. And among other importunate and most serious
designs, and of great import indeed, too – but let that
pass; for I must tell thee, it will please his grace, by the
world, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and
with his royal finger thus dally with my excrement,
with my mustachio – but, sweet heart, let that pass. By
the world, I recount no fable! Some certain special
honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado,
a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world –
but let that pass. The very all of all is – but, sweet
heart, I do implore secrecy – that the King would have
me present the Princess – sweet chuck – with some
delightful 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.

HOLOFERNES
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.

NATHANIEL
Where will you find men worthy enough to
present them?

HOLOFERNES
Joshua, yourself; this gallant gentleman,
Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great
limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page,
Hercules

ARMADO
Pardon, sir – error! He is not quantity enough
for that Worthy's thumb; he is not so big as the end of
his club.

HOLOFERNES
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.

MOTE
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.

ARMADO
For the rest of the Worthies?

HOLOFERNES
I will play three myself.

MOTE
Thrice-worthy gentleman!

ARMADO
Shall I tell you a thing?

HOLOFERNES
We attend.

ARMADO
We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I
beseech you, follow.

HOLOFERNES
Via, goodman Dull! Thou hast spoken no
word all this while.

DULL
Nor understood none neither, sir.

HOLOFERNES
Allons! We will employ thee.

DULL
I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on
the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the
hay.

HOLOFERNES
Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport,
away!
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene II
Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine

PRINCESS
Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A lady walled about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving King.

ROSALINE
Madam, came nothing else along with that?

PRINCESS
Nothing but this? Yes, as much love in rhyme
As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper,
Writ o' both sides the leaf, margin and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

ROSALINE
That was the way to make his godhead wax,
For he hath been five thousand year a boy.

KATHARINE
Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.

ROSALINE
You'll ne'er be friends with him; 'a killed your sister.

KATHARINE
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 ha' been a grandam ere she died.
And so may you, for a light heart lives long.

ROSALINE
What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

KATHARINE
A light condition in a beauty dark.

ROSALINE
We need more light to find your meaning out.

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

ROSALINE
Look what you do, you do it still i'th' dark.

KATHARINE
So do not you, for you are a light wench.

ROSALINE
Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.

KATHARINE
You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me!

ROSALINE
Great reason, for past cure is still past care.

PRINCESS
Well bandied both! A set of wit well played.
But, Rosaline, you have a favour too –
Who sent it? And what is it?

ROSALINE
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 Berowne;
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!

PRINCESS
Anything like?

ROSALINE
Much in the letters, nothing in the praise.

PRINCESS
Beauteous as ink – a good conclusion.

KATHARINE
Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

ROSALINE
'Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor,
My red dominical, my golden letter.
O that your face were not so full of O's!

PRINCESS
A pox of that jest, and I beshrew all shrews.
But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumaine?

KATHARINE
Madam, this glove.

PRINCESS
Did he not send you twain?

KATHARINE
Yes, madam; and, moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover;
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.

MARIA
This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville.
The letter is too long by half a mile.

PRINCESS
I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
The chain were longer and the letter short?

MARIA
Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

PRINCESS
We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.

ROSALINE
They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne I'll torture ere I go.
O that I knew he were but in by th' 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 hests,
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So pair-taunt-like would I o'ersway his state
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

PRINCESS
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.

ROSALINE
The blood of youth burns not with such excess
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

MARIA
Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
As foolery in the wise when wit doth dote,
Since all the power thereof it doth apply
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
Enter Boyet

PRINCESS
Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.

BOYET
O, I am stabbed with laughter! Where's her grace?

PRINCESS
Thy news Boyet?

BOYET
Prepare, madam, prepare!
Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are
Against your peace. Love doth approach disguised,
Armed in arguments. You'll be surprised.
Muster your wits, stand in your own defence,
Or hide your heads like cowards and fly hence.

PRINCESS
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 addressed
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.

PRINCESS
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 parley, court, and dance,
And every one his love-suit will advance
Unto his several mistress, which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.

PRINCESS
And will they so? The gallants shall be tasked;
For, ladies, we shall 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 Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change your favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.

ROSALINE
Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.

KATHARINE
But in this changing what is your intent?

PRINCESS
The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
They do it but in mockery 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.

ROSALINE
But shall we dance if they desire to't?

PRINCESS
No, to the death we will not move a foot;
Nor to their penned speech render we no grace,
But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.

BOYET
Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
And quite divorce his memory from his part.

PRINCESS
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.
A trumpet sounds

BOYET
The trumpet sounds. Be masked – the masquers come.
Enter blackamoors with music, Mote with a speech,
and the King and the rest of the lords disguised like
Russians and visored

MOTE
All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!

BOYET
Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.

MOTE
A holy parcel of the fairest dames
(The ladies turn their backs
to him)
That ever turned their – backs – to mortal views!

BEROWNE
‘ Their eyes ’, villain, ‘ their eyes ’!

MOTE
That ever turned their eyes to mortal views!
Out –

BOYET
True! ‘ Out ’ indeed.

MOTE
Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold –

BEROWNE
‘ Once to behold ’, rogue!

MOTE
Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes –
With your sun-beamed eyes –

BOYET
They will not answer to that epithet.
You were best call it ‘ daughter-beamed eyes.’

MOTE
They do not mark me, and that brings me out.

BEROWNE
Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue!
Exit Mote

ROSALINE
What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.
If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.

BOYET
What would you with the Princess?

BEROWNE
Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

ROSALINE
What would they, say they?

BOYET
Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

ROSALINE
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.

ROSALINE
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 doth fill up one mile.

BEROWNE
Tell her we measure them by weary steps.

BOYET
She hears herself.

ROSALINE
How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are numbered in the travel of one mile?

BEROWNE
We number nothing that we spend for you.
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without account.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we like savages may worship it.

ROSALINE
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.

ROSALINE
O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter!
Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.

KING
Then in our measure vouchsafe but one change.
Thou biddest me beg; this begging is not strange.

ROSALINE
Play music then! Nay, you must do it soon.
Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon.

KING
Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

ROSALINE
You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.
Instruments strike up

KING
Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.

ROSALINE
Our ears vouchsafe it.

KING
But your legs should do it.

ROSALINE
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?

ROSALINE
Only to part friends.
Curtsy, sweet hearts. And so the measure ends.

KING
More measure of this measure! Be not nice.

ROSALINE
We can afford no more at such a price.

KING
Prize you yourselves. What buys your company?

ROSALINE
Your absence only.

KING
That can never be.

ROSALINE
Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu –
Twice to your visor, and half once to you!

KING
If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.

ROSALINE
In private then.

KING
I am best pleased with that.
They converse apart

BEROWNE
White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

PRINCESS
Honey, and milk, and sugar – there is three.

BEROWNE
Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice,
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey. Well run, dice!
There's half a dozen sweets.

PRINCESS
Seventh sweet, adieu.
Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.

BEROWNE
One word in secret.

PRINCESS
Let it not be sweet.

BEROWNE
Thou grievest my gall.

PRINCESS
Gall? Bitter.

BEROWNE
Therefore meet.
They converse apart

DUMAINE
Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?

MARIA
Name it.

DUMAINE
Fair lady –

MARIA
Say you so? Fair lord!
Take that for your ‘ fair lady.’

DUMAINE
Please it you,
As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
They converse apart

KATHARINE
What, was your visor made without a tongue?

LONGAVILLE
I know the reason, lady, why you ask.

KATHARINE
O for your reason! Quickly, sir; I long.

LONGAVILLE
You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless visor half.

KATHARINE
Veal ’, quoth the Dutchman. Is not ‘ veal ’ a calf?

LONGAVILLE
A calf, fair lady!

KATHARINE
No, a fair lord calf.

LONGAVILLE
Let's part the word.

KATHARINE
No, I'll not be your half.
Take all and wean it; it may prove an ox.

LONGAVILLE
Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks.
Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.

KATHARINE
Then die a calf before your horns do grow.

LONGAVILLE
One word in private with you ere I die.

KATHARINE
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.

ROSALINE
Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off!

BEROWNE
By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!

KING
Farewell, mad wenches. You have simple wits.
Exeunt the King, lords,
and blackamoors
Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?

BOYET
Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puffed out.

ROSALINE
Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.

PRINCESS
O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?
Or ever but in visors show their faces?
This pert Berowne was out of countenance quite.

ROSALINE
They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.

PRINCESS
Berowne did swear himself out of all suit.

MARIA
Dumaine was at my service, and his sword.
Non point ’, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.

KATHARINE
Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart;
And trow you what he called me?

PRINCESS
Qualm, perhaps.

KATHARINE
Yes, in good faith.

PRINCESS
Go, sickness as thou art!

ROSALINE
Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.

PRINCESS
And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to me.

KATHARINE
And Longaville was for my service born.

MARIA
Dumaine 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.

PRINCESS
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.

PRINCESS
How ‘ blow ’? How ‘ blow ’? Speak to be understood.

BOYET
Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud;
Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

PRINCESS
Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do
If they return in their own shapes to woo?

ROSALINE
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.

PRINCESS
Whip to our tents, as roes runs o'er the land.
Exeunt Princess and ladies
Enter the King, Berowne, Longaville, and Dumaine,
having shed their disguises

KING
Fair sir, God save you. Where's 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

BEROWNE
This fellow pecks 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 wassails, 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.
'A can carve too, and lisp. Why, this is he
That kissed his hand away 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 everyone,
To show his teeth as white as whale's 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!
Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine,
having unmasked and exchanged favours, with
Boyet

BEROWNE
See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou
Till this man showed thee, and what art thou now?

KING
All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day.

PRINCESS
‘ Fair ’ in ‘ all hail ’ is foul, as I conceive.

KING
Construe my speeches better, if you may.

PRINCESS
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.

PRINCESS
This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow.
Nor God nor I delights in perjured men.

KING
Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.

PRINCESS
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.

PRINCESS
Not so, my lord. It is not so, I swear.
We have had pastimes here and pleasant game:
A mess of Russians left us but of late.

KING
How, madam? Russians?

PRINCESS
Ay, in truth, my lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.

ROSALINE
Madam, speak true! It is not so, my lord.
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour
And talked apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools, but this I think,
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.

BEROWNE
This jest is dry to me. My gentle sweet,
Your wit makes wise things foolish. When we greet,
With eyes' best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light. Your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.

ROSALINE
This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye –

BEROWNE
I am a fool, and full of poverty.

ROSALINE
But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.

BEROWNE
O, I am yours, and all that I possess.

ROSALINE
All the fool mine?

BEROWNE
I cannot give you less.

ROSALINE
Which of the visors was it that you wore?

BEROWNE
Where, when, what visor? Why demand you this?

ROSALINE
There, then, that visor: that superfluous case
That hid the worse and showed the better face.

KING
We are descried. They'll mock us now downright.

DUMAINE
Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.

PRINCESS
Amazed, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?

ROSALINE
Help! Hold his brows! He'll swoon. Why look you pale?
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy!

BEROWNE
Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?
Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me.
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance,
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit,
And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
O, never will I trust to speeches penned,
Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue,
Nor never come in visor to my friend,
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song.
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affection,
Figures pedantical – these summer flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forswear them; and I here protest
By this white glove – how white the hand, God knows! –
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed
In russet yeas and honest kersey noes.
And, to begin: wench – so God help me, law!
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

ROSALINE
Sanssans ’, I pray you.

BEROWNE
Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage. Bear with me, I am sick;
I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see:
Write ‘ Lord have mercy on us ’ on those three.
They are infected; in their hearts it lies;
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
These lords are visited; you are not free,
For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.

PRINCESS
No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.

BEROWNE
Our states are forfeit. Seek not to undo us.

ROSALINE
It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?

BEROWNE
Peace! for I will not have to do with you.

ROSALINE
Nor shall not if I do as I intend.

BEROWNE
Speak for yourselves. My wit is at an end.

KING
Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
Some fair excuse.

PRINCESS
The fairest is confession.
Were not you here but even now disguised?

KING
Madam, I was.

PRINCESS
And were you well advised?

KING
I was, fair madam.

PRINCESS
When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?

KING
That more than all the world I did respect her.

PRINCESS
When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.

KING
Upon mine honour, no.

PRINCESS
Peace, peace, forbear!
Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.

KING
Despise me when I break this oath of mine.

PRINCESS
I will; and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

ROSALINE
Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eyesight, and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me or else die my lover.

PRINCESS
God give thee joy of him. The noble lord
Most honourably doth uphold his word.

KING
What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth,
I never swore this lady such an oath.

ROSALINE
By heaven you did! And, to confirm it plain,
You gave me this; but take it, sir, again.

KING
My faith and this the Princess I did give.
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

PRINCESS
Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear,
And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear.
What! Will you have me, or your pearl again?

BEROWNE
Neither of either; I remit both twain.
I see the trick on't. Here was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh when she's disposed,
Told our intents before; which once disclosed,
The ladies did change favours, and then we,
Following the signs, wooed but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn, in will and error.
(To Boyet)
Much upon this 'tis. (To Boyet) And might not you
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the square,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You put our page out – go, you are allowed;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye
Wounds like a leaden sword.

BOYET
Full merrily
Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.

BEROWNE
Lo, he is tilting straight. Peace! I have done.
Enter Costard
Welcome, pure wit! Thou partest a fair fray.

COSTARD
O Lord, sir, they would know
Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.

BEROWNE
What, are there but three?

COSTARD
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
For every one pursents three.

BEROWNE
And three times thrice is nine.

COSTARD
Not so, sir – under correction, sir – I hope it is not so.
You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know.
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir –

BEROWNE
Is not nine?

COSTARD
Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it
doth amount.

BEROWNE
By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.

COSTARD
O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your
living by reck'ning, sir.

BEROWNE
How much is it?

COSTARD
O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors,
sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount. For mine
own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man in
one poor man – Pompion the Great, sir.

BEROWNE
Art thou one of the Worthies?

COSTARD
It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey
the Great. For mine own part, I know not the degree
of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.

BEROWNE
Go bid them prepare.

COSTARD
We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some
care.
Exit

KING
Berowne, they will shame us. Let them not approach.

BEROWNE
We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis some policy
To have one show worse than the King's and his company.

KING
I say they shall not come.

PRINCESS
Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now.
That sport best pleases that doth least know how –
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it presents;
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth.

BEROWNE
A right description of our sport, my lord.
Enter Armado

ARMADO
Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy
royal sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.
Armado and the King
converse apart

PRINCESS
Doth this man serve God?

BEROWNE
Why ask you?

PRINCESS
'A speaks not like a man of God his making.

ARMADO
That is all one, my fair sweet honey monarch;
for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical;
too, too vain; too, too vain; but we will put it, as they
say, to fortuna de la guerra.
He gives the King a paper
I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!
Exit

KING
Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. (Consulting
the paper) He presents Hector of Troy; the swain,
Pompey the Great; the parish curate, Alexander;
Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus.
(reading)
And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits and present the other five.

BEROWNE
There is five in the first show.

KING
You are deceived. 'Tis not so.

BEROWNE
The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the
fool, and the boy.
Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.

KING
The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
Enter Costard as Pompey

COSTARD as Pompey
I Pompey am –

BOYET
You lie! You are not he.

COSTARD as Pompey
I Pompey am –

BOYET
With leopard's head on knee.

BEROWNE
Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with thee.

COSTARD as Pompey
I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big –

DUMAINE
The ‘ Great.’

COSTARD as Pompey
It is ‘ Great ’, sir – Pompey surnamed the Great,
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat;
And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France.
If your ladyship would say ‘ Thanks, Pompey ’, I had
done.

PRINCESS
Great thanks, great Pompey.

COSTARD
'Tis not so much worth, but I hope I was
perfect. I made a little fault in ‘ Great.’

BEROWNE
My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the
best Worthy.
Enter Nathaniel as Alexander

NATHANIEL as Alexander
When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander;
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might;
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander.

BOYET
Your nose says no, you are not; for it stands too right.

BEROWNE
Your nose smells ‘ no ’ in this, most tender-smelling knight.

PRINCESS
The conqueror is dismayed. Proceed, good Alexander.

NATHANIEL as Alexander
When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander –

BOYET
Most true, 'tis right – you were so, Alisander.

BEROWNE
Pompey the Great –

COSTARD
Your servant, and Costard.

BEROWNE
Take away the conqueror; take away
Alisander.

COSTARD
(to Nathaniel)
O, sir, you have overthrown
Alisander the conqueror. You will be scraped out of
the painted cloth for this. Your lion, that holds his
pole-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax.
He will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror, and afeard
to speak? Run away for shame, Alisander.
Nathaniel retires
There, an't shall please you, a foolish mild man; an
honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous
good neighbour, faith, and a very good bowler;
but for Alisander, alas, you see how 'tis – a little
o'erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming will speak
their mind in some other sort.

PRINCESS
Stand aside, good Pompey.
Enter Holofernes as Judas and Mote as Hercules

HOLOFERNES as presenter
Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club killed Cerberus, that three-headed canus,
And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
Ergo I come with this apology.
Keep some state in thy exit, and retire.
Mote retires
Holofernes speaks as Judas
Judas I am –

DUMAINE
A Judas!

HOLOFERNES
Not Iscariot, sir.
(as Judas)
Judas I am, yclept Maccabaeus.

DUMAINE
Judas Maccabaeus clipped is plain Judas.

BEROWNE
A kissing traitor. How art thou proved
Judas?

HOLOFERNES as Judas
Judas I am, –

DUMAINE
The more shame for you, Judas.

HOLOFERNES
What mean you, sir?

BOYET
To make Judas hang himself.

HOLOFERNES
Begin, sir; you are my elder.

BEROWNE
Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.

HOLOFERNES
I will not be put out of countenance.

BEROWNE
Because thou hast no face.

HOLOFERNES
What is this?

BOYET
A cittern-head.

DUMAINE
The head of a bodkin.

BEROWNE
A death's face in a ring.

LONGAVILLE
The face of an old Roman coin, scarce
seen.

BOYET
The pommel of Caesar's falchion.

DUMAINE
The carved bone face on a flask.

BEROWNE
Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.

DUMAINE
Ay, in a brooch of lead.

BEROWNE
Ay, and worn in the cap of a toothdrawer. And
now forward, for we have put thee in countenance.

HOLOFERNES
You have put me out of countenance.

BEROWNE
False! We have given thee faces.

HOLOFERNES
But you have outfaced them all.

BEROWNE
An thou wert a lion, we would do so.

BOYET
Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.
And so adieu, sweet Jude. Nay, why dost thou stay?

DUMAINE
For the latter end of his name.

BEROWNE
For the ass to the Jude. Give it him. Jude-as, away!

HOLOFERNES
This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.

BOYET
A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark; he may stumble.
Holofernes retires

PRINCESS
Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been
baited!
Enter Armado as Hector

BEROWNE
Hide thy head, Achilles! Here comes Hector in
arms.

DUMAINE
Though my mocks come home by me, I will
now be merry.

KING
Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.

BOYET
But is this Hector?

KING
I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.

LONGAVILLE
His leg is too big for Hector's.

DUMAINE
More calf, certain.

BOYET
No; he is best indued in the small.

BEROWNE
This cannot be Hector.

DUMAINE
He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.

ARMADO as Hector
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift –

DUMAINE
A gilt nutmeg.

BEROWNE
A lemon.

LONGAVILLE
Stuck with cloves.

DUMAINE
No, cloven.

ARMADO
Peace!
(as Hector)
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A man so breathed that certain he would fight, yea,
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower –

DUMAINE
That mint!

LONGAVILLE
That columbine!

ARMADO
Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

LONGAVILLE
I must rather give it the rein, for it runs
against Hector.

DUMAINE
Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

ARMADO
The sweet war-man is dead and rotten. Sweet
chucks, beat not the bones of the buried. When he
breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my
device. Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of
hearing.
Berowne steps forth and whispers to Costard

PRINCESS
Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.

ARMADO
I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.

BOYET
Loves her by the foot.

DUMAINE
He may not by the yard.

ARMADO as Hector
This Hector far surmounted Hannibal;
The party is gone –

COSTARD
Fellow Hector, she is gone! She is two months
on her way.

ARMADO
What meanest thou?

COSTARD
Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the
poor wench is cast away. She's quick; the child brags
in her belly already. 'Tis yours.

ARMADO
Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?
Thou shalt die!

COSTARD
Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta
that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is
dead by him.

DUMAINE
Most rare Pompey!

BOYET
Renowned Pompey!

BEROWNE
Greater than ‘ Great ’! Great, great, great
Pompey! Pompey the Huge!

DUMAINE
Hector trembles.

BEROWNE
Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir
them on, stir them on!

DUMAINE
Hector will challenge him.

BEROWNE
Ay, if 'a have no more man's blood in his belly
than will sup a flea.

ARMADO
By the north pole, I do challenge thee.

COSTARD
I will not fight with a pole like a northern man.
I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me
borrow my arms again.

DUMAINE
Room for the incensed Worthies.

COSTARD
I'll do it in my shirt.

DUMAINE
Most resolute Pompey!

MOTE
Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you
not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat. What
mean you? You will lose your reputation.

ARMADO
Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me. I will not
combat in my shirt.

DUMAINE
You may not deny it. Pompey hath made the
challenge.

ARMADO
Sweet bloods, I both may and will.

BEROWNE
What reason have you for't?

ARMADO
The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. I go
woolward for penance.

BOYET
True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of
linen. Since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a
dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that 'a wears next his
heart for a favour.
Enter a messenger, Monsieur Marcade

MARCADE
God save you, madam.

PRINCESS
Welcome, Marcade,
But that thou interruptest our merriment.

MARCADE
I am sorry, madam, for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father –

PRINCESS
Dead, for my life!

MARCADE
Even so; my tale is told.

BEROWNE
Worthies, away! The scene begins to cloud.

ARMADO
For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have
seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion,
and I will right myself like a soldier.
Exeunt Worthies

KING
How fares your majesty?

PRINCESS
Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight.

KING
Madam, not so. I do beseech you, stay.

PRINCESS
Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours, and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spirits,
If overboldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath. Your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord!
A heavy heart bears not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtained.

KING
The extreme parts of time extremely forms
All causes to the purpose of his speed,
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow jostle it
From what it purposed; since to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

PRINCESS
I understand you not. My griefs are double.

BEROWNE
Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
And by these badges understand the King.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents;
And what in us hath seemed ridiculous –
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
Formed by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of straying shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance;
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both – fair ladies, you.
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.

PRINCESS
We have received your letters, full of love;
Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
And, in our maiden counsel rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast and as lining to the time.
But more devout than this in our respects
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.

DUMAINE
Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest.

LONGAVILLE
So did our looks.

ROSALINE
We did not quote them so.

KING
Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.

PRINCESS
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this:
If for my love – as there is no such cause
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me, challenge by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instance, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation
For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
Neither entitled in the other's heart.

KING
If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!

The King and the Princess converse apart

DUMAINE
But what to me, my love? But what to me?
A wife?

KATHARINE
A beard, fair health, and honesty;
With threefold love I wish you all these three.

DUMAINE
O, shall I say ‘ I thank you, gentle wife ’?

KATHARINE
Not so, my lord. A twelvemonth and a day
I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say.
Come when the King doth to my lady come;
Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

DUMAINE
I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.

KATHARINE
Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.
They converse apart

LONGAVILLE
What says Maria?

MARIA
At the twelvemonth's end
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.

LONGAVILLE
I'll stay with patience, but the time is long.

MARIA
The liker you; few taller are so young.
They converse apart

BEROWNE
Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there.
Impose some service on me for thy love.

ROSALINE
Oft have I heard of you, my lord Berowne,
Before I saw you, and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit.
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won,
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

BEROWNE
To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible;
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

ROSALINE
Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it. Then, if sickly ears,
Deafed with the clamours of their own dear groans,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you and that fault withal;
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.

BEROWNE
A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall,
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.

PRINCESS
(to the King)
Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take my leave.

KING
No, madam, we will bring you on your way.

BEROWNE
Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
Jack hath not Jill. These ladies' courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.

KING
Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
And then 'twill end.

BEROWNE
That's too long for a play.
Enter Armado

ARMADO
Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me –

PRINCESS
Was not that Hector?

DUMAINE
The worthy knight of Troy.

ARMADO
I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am
a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough
for her sweet love three year. But, most esteemed
greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two
learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the
cuckoo? It should have followed in the end of our
show.

KING
Call them forth quickly; we will do so.

ARMADO
Holla! Approach.
Enter all
This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the
one maintained by the owl, th' other by the cuckoo.
Ver, begin.

VER
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he:
‘ Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!’ O, word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he:
‘Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O, word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

HIEMS
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipped, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl:
‘ Tu-whit
Tu-who!’ – a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl:
‘Tu-whit
Tu-who!' – a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

ARMADO
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs
of Apollo. You that way; we this way.
Exeunt
x

Jump directly to