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Varying in subjects as the eye doth rowl,
To every varied object in his glance,
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heav'nly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities;
Those heav'nly eyes, that look into thefe faults,
Suggested us to make them : 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 fin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.
Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love ;
Your favours, the embassadors of love :
And in our maiden council rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy;
As bumbast, and as lining to the time :
But more devout than this, (save our respects),
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Dum. Our letters, Madam, fhew'd much more than
jest. Long. So did our looks. Rof. We did not quote them so.
King. Now at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your
Prin. A time, methinks, too short,
To make a world-without-end bargain in ;
No, no, my Lord, your Grace is perjur'd 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 ftay, until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning.
If this auftere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood ;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip got the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and lait love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me; challenge me, by thefe deserts ;
And by this virgin palm, now killing thine,
I will be thine ; and till that instant shut
My woful 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 intitled in the other's heart.
King. If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To fetter up these powers of mine with rest;
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence, ever then, my heart is in thy breast.
[* Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me?
Rof. You must be purged too, your sins are rank,
You are attaint with fault and perjury;
Therefore if you my favour mean to get,
A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never reft,
But seek the weary beds of people sick.]
Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me?
Cath. A wife!-a beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife ?
Cath. Not so, my Lord, a twelvemonth and a day,
I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say.
Come, when the King doth to my Lady come;
Then if I have much love, I'll give you some.
Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
Cath. Yet swear not, left ye be forsworn again.
Long. What says Maria ?
Mar. At the twelvemonth's end,
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
Long. I'll stay with patience ; but the time is long.
Mar. The liker you ; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my Lady ? Mistrefs, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there;
Impose sone service on me for my love.
* These fix lines are misplaced, and ought to be expunged, 26 being the author's fiift draught only, of what he afterwards improved and made more perfect. Mr Warburton.
Rof. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron,
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 To weed this wormwood from your
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won);
You shall this twelve-month term from day to day
Visit the speechless fick, and still converse
With groning wretches ; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
T enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be, it is impossible :
Mirth cannot move a foul in agony.
Rof: Why, that's the way to choak a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools : A jeft's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, Deaft with the clamours of their own dear groans, Will hear
idle fcorns ; 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.
Biron. A twelvemonth? well ; befal, what will befal, I'll jeft a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, fweet my Lord, and so I take my leave.
[To the King. King. No, Madam; we will bring you on your
way. Birón. 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.
Biron. That's too long for a play.
Arm. Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me
Prin. Was not that Hector ?
Dum. That worthy knight of Troy.
Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a votary : I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, mostesteem'd Greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckow ? it should have follow'd in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so..
Arm. Holla! approach.
Enter all, for the song
This fide is Hiems, winter.
This Ver, the spring : The one maintain’d by the ow), ·
The other by the cuckow.
When daizies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckow-buds of yellow hue,
Do paint the meadows much-bedight;
The cuckow then on every tree.
Mocks married men; for thus fings he,
Cuckow ! cuckow ! O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmens'clocks:
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws;
And maidens bleach their summer-smocks ;
The cuckow then one
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckow ! cuckow! O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear?
W I N T E R.
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 nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly fings the staring owl,
A merry note,
While greasy Jone doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parfon's faw;
And birds. sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs biss in the bowl,
Then nightly fings the staring owl,
A merry note,
While greafy Jone doth keel the pot. Arm. The words of Mercury Are harsh after the songs of Apollo: You, that way; we, this way. [Exeunt omnes