Moth
Thrice-worthy gentleman!
Don Adriano de Armado
Shall I tell you a thing?
Holofernes
We attend.
Don Adriano de Armado
We will have, if this fadge not, an antique. 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 tabour to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay.
Holofernes
Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away!
Exeunt
SCENE II. THE SAME.
Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and Maria
Princess
Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in:
A lady wall’d about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving king.
Rosaline
Madame, came nothing else along with that?
Princess
Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme
As would be cramm’d up in a sheet of paper,
Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent 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 years a boy.
Katharine
Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Rosaline
You’ll ne’er be friends with him; a’ kill’d 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’ the 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 play’d.
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 Biron:
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
Any thing 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!
Katharine
A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows.
Princess
But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?
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 Biron I’ll torture ere I go:
O that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn and beg and seek
And wait the season and observe the times
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes
And shape his service wholly to my hests
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So perttaunt-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 catch’d,
As wit turn’d fool: folly, in wisdom hatch’d,
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.
Princess
Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
Enter Boyet
Boyet
O, I am stabb’d 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 addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear,
That, by and by, disguised they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn’d 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 fear’d her had she been a devil.’
With that, all laugh’d and clapp’d him on the shoulder,
Makin
g the bold wag by their praises bolder:
One rubb’d his elbow thus, and fleer’d 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 caper’d, and cried, ‘All goes well;’
The fourth turn’d 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 cheque their folly, passion’s solemn tears.
Princess
But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet
They do, they do: and are apparell’d thus.
Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress, which they’ll know
By favours several which they did bestow.
Princess
And will they so? the gallants shall be task’d;
For, ladies, we shall every one be mask’d;
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 Biron 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 mocking merriment;
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mock’d 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 penn’d 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 mock’d, depart away with shame.
Trumpets sound within
Boyet
The trumpet sounds: be mask’d; the maskers come.
The Ladies mask
Enter Blackamoors with music; Moth; Ferdinand, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in Russian habits, and masked
Moth
All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!—
Boyet
Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
Moth
A holy parcel of the fairest dames.
The Ladies turn their backs to him
That ever turn’d their — backs — to mortal views!
Biron
[Aside to Moth] Their eyes, villain, their eyes!
Moth
That ever turn’d their eyes to mortal views!— Out —
Boyet
True; out indeed.
Moth
Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold —
Biron
[Aside to Moth] Once to behold, rogue.
Moth
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.’
Moth
They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
Biron
Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue!
Exit Moth
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?
Biron
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.
Ferdinand
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.
Biron
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 number’d in the travel of one mile?
Biron
We number nothing that we spend for you:
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.
Rosaline
My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
Ferdinand
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 request’st but moonshine in the water.
Ferdinand
Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
Thou bid’st me beg: this begging is not strange.
Rosaline
Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.
Music plays
Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon.
Ferdinand
Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
Rosaline
You took the moon at full, but now she’s changed.
Ferdinand
Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
Rosaline
Our ears vouchsafe it.
Ferdinand
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.
Ferdinand
Why take we hands, then?
Rosaline
Only to part friends:
Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
Ferdinand
More measure of this measure; be not nice.
Rosaline<
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We can afford no more at such a price.
Ferdinand
Prize you yourselves: what buys your company?
Rosaline
Your absence only.
Ferdinand
That can never be.
Rosaline
Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu;
Twice to your visor, and half once to you.
Ferdinand
If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat.
Rosaline
In private, then.
Ferdinand
I am best pleased with that.
They converse apart
Biron
White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
Princess
Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
Biron
Nay then, two treys, and 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.
Biron
One word in secret.
Princess
Let it not be sweet.
Biron
Thou grievest my gall.
Princess
Gall! bitter.
Biron
Therefore meet.
They converse apart
Dumain
Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
Maria
Name it.
Dumain
Fair lady,—
Maria
Say you so? Fair lord,—
Take that for your fair lady.
Dumain
Please it you,
As much in private, and I’ll bid adieu.
They converse apart
Katharine
What, was your vizard 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 vizard 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
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