and troth;

[To Dum.] And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.

What will Biron say when that he shall hear
Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear? 146
How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit!
How will he triumph, leap and laugh at it!
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me. 150
Bir. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
[Advancing.]

Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me! Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove

156

These worms for loving, that art most in love? Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears There is no certain Princess that appears; You'll not be perjur'd, 't is a hateful thing; Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting! But you are not asham'd? Nay, are you not, All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot? 180 You found his mote; the King your mote did

see;

165

But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat !
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief, Ö, tell me, good Dumain?
And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege's? All about the breast!
A caudle, ho!
King.
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?

170

Bir. Not you to me, but I betray'd by you, I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in ;

I am betray'd by keeping company

175

Where hadst thou it? Jaq. Of Costard.

195

[He reads the letter.

King. Where hadst thou it ? Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. [Biron tears the letter.] King. How now! what is in you? Why dost thou tear it?

200

240

Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not.
To things of sale a seller's praise belongs,
She passes praise; then praise too short doth
blot.

A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,

And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. 245
O, 't is the sun that maketh all things shine, -
King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
Bir. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.

O, who can give an oath? Where is a book 250 That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,

No face is fair that is not full so black. King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons and the scowl of night; And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. Bir. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of Tight

267

And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
In that each of you have forsworn his book,
Can you still dream and pore and thereon look?
[For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
Have found the ground of study's excellence
Without the beauty of a woman's face?
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive;
They are the ground, the books, the academes
From whence doth spring the true Promethean

fire.]

301

305

310

315

Why, universal plodding poisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long-during action tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
You have in that forsworn the use of eyes
And study too, the causer of your vow.
For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
And where we are our learning likewise is,
Then when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
Do we not likewise see our learning there?
O. we have made a vow to study, lords,
And in that vow we have forsworn our books.
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you, 320
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
Of beauty's tutors have enrich'd you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore, finding barren practisers,
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil;
But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But, with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power,

328

330

340

345

For valour, is not Love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were temp'red with Love's sighs;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world,
Else none at all in anght proves excellent.
Then fools you were these women to for-

swear,

350

355

Or keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love,
Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men,
Or for men's sake, the authors of these women,
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men, seo
Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
It is religion to be thus forsworn,

For charity itself fulfils the law,
And who can sever love from charity?

365

ACT [V]

[SCENE I. The same.]

Enter the Pedant [HOLOFERNES], the Curate [SIR NATHANIEL], and DULL.

Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Natk. 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. [5 I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the King's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te; his humor [10 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.

15

Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Draws out his table-book.

Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and point-devise companions; such [20 rackers of orthography, as to speak dout, fine, 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 nebour; neigh abbreviated ne. This is [25 abhominable, which he would call abbominable; it insinuateth me of insanie; ne intelligis, domine? to make frantic, lunatic.

30

Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo. Hol. Bone? bone for bene, Priscian a little scratched, 't will serve.

Enter Braggart [ARMADO], Boy [MOTH, and COSTARD].

Nath. Videsne quis venit ?

Hol. Video, et gaudeo.

Arm. [To Moth.] Chirrah!

Hol. Quare chirrah, not sirrah?

35

Arm. Men of peace, well encountered.
Hol. Most military sir, salutation.
Moth. [Aside to Costard.] They have been at a

Cost. O, they have liv'd long on the alms

eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long

art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. Moth. Peace! the peal begins.

45

Hol. What is the figure? What is the figure? Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou disputes like an infant; go, whip thy gig.

70

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy unum cita, -a gig of a cuckold's horn.

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread. Hold, there is the very remuneration I had (75 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' [s0 ends, as they say.

Hol. O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.

Arm. Arts-man, preambulate, we will be [85 singuled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain?

Arm. Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure ye, very good [100 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 important and most serious designs, and of great import indeed, too,-but let that [105 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, [110 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, [115 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 [120 sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have

Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabæus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass [135 [as] Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules,

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

Hol. Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in minority; his enter and exit [140 shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, "Well done, [145 Hercules! now thou crushest the snake!" That is the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the Worthies?
Hol. I will play three myself.
Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?
Hol. We attend.

150

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

155

Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, sir.
Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I

will play

160

On the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away! [Exeunt.

[SCENE II. The same.]

Enter the [PRINCESS, and] LADIES. Prin. 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.
Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with
that?

V. ii.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy,

And so she died. Had she been light, like

you,

Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,

15

She might ha' been a grandam ere she died. And so may you; for a light heart lives long. Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark. 20 Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out.

Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;

Therefore I''ll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark.

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

25

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

Kath. You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for "past cure is still past care.

Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well
played.

But, Rosaline, you have a favour too.
Who sent it? and what is it?

30

knew.

I would you Ros. 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 compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my pictur in his letter!
Prin. Any thing like?

35

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

Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion. Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

40

Ros. Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor,

45

My red dominical, my golden letter;
O that your face were not so full of O's!
Prin. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all
shrews.

But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair
Dumain?

Kath. Madam, this glove.
Prin.

Did he not send you twain ?
Kath. Yes, madam, and moreover
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover,

A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.

50

Mar. This and these pearls to me sent Longaville.

The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart

55

The chain were longer and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

Prin. We are wise girls to mock our lovers

80.

Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. Prin. Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What

are they

That charge their breath against us? Say, scout,

say.

91

95

Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour: When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest, Toward that shade I might behold address'd The King and his companions. Warily I stole into a neighbour thicket by, And overheard what you shall overhear, That, by and by, disguis'd 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 99 bear;