The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose side? the king's no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth dy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce thy love? I could shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags ? robes; for tittles ? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 90 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey. Submissive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play: But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then ? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better? Boyet. I am much deceived but I remember the style. Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; 100 Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, 130 [Exeunt Ros. and Kath. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it! Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady! Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be Mar. Wide o' the bow hand! i' faith, your hand is out. Cost. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er int the clout. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. Cost. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl. 140 Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria. Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple [down! clown! Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Armado o' th' one side,-O, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan! To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a' will swear! And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit! Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit! 150 [Shout within. [Exit Costard, running. SCENE II. The same. Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL. Nath. Very reverend sport. truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience. Hol. The deer was, as you know, sanguis in blood ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of caelo, the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. Dull. pricket. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a Ho. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his inelination, after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather, unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer. 20 Dull. I said the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket. Hol. Twice-sod simplicity, bis coctus! 0 thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts: And such barren plants are set before us, that we thankful should be, Which we of taste and feeling are, for those parts that do fructify in us more than he. 30 For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool, So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school: Bat omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. Dull You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet? Hol Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull, Dull. Nath. What is Dictynna ? A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. Hol. The moon was a month old when Adam was no more, 40 And raught not to five weeks when he came to five-score. The allusion holds in the exchange. Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange. Ho. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange. Dill And I say, the pollusion holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside that, 'twas a pricket that the princess killed. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? And, to humor the ignorant, call I the deer the princess killed a pricket. Noth. Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility, Hol. I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility. The preyful princess pierced and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket; Some say a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. The dogs did yell put L to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; 60 Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting. If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores one sorel. Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L. Nath. A rare talent! Dull. [Aside] If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and So may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you you are a good inember of the commonwealth. Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, they shall want no instruction; if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them: but vir sapit qui pauca loquitur; a soul feminine saluteth us. Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master Parson. Hol. Master Parson, quasi pers-on. An if one should be pierced, which is the one? Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead. Hol. Piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a tuft of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well. Jaq. Good master Parson, be so good as read me this letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it. Hol. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra Ruminat,-and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice; That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue. Hol. You find not the apostraphas, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention ? Imitari is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But, damosella virgin, was this directed to you? Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords. Hol. I will overglance the superscript: To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline.' I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto: Your ladyship's in all desired employment, BIRON.' Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king: it may concern much. Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty: adien. Jaq. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl. 150 [Exeunt Cost. and Jaq. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith, Hol. Sir, tell not me of the father: I do fear colorable colors. But to return to the verses; did they please you, Sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dne to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where, if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with & grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savoring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I beseech your society. Nath. And thank you too; for society, saith the text, is the happiness of life. Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it. [To Dull] Sir, I do invite you too; you shall not say me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch-pitch that defiles: defile! a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so they say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool: well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep: well proved again o' my side! I will not love: if I do, hang me; i' faith, I will not. O, but her eye-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love and it hath taught me to rhyme and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already: the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper : God give him grace to groan! [Stands aside. 20 Enter the King, with a paper, King. Ay me! Biron. [Aside] Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid: thou hast thumped him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets! King [reads]. So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh ways have smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows: 29 Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep: No drop but as a coach doth carry thee; So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they thy glory through my grief will show: But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens! how far dost thou excel, No thought can think nor tongue of mortal, tell. How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper: Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? [Steps aside. What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear. Biron. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear. Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper. Ling. Ay me, I am forsworn! Biron. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. King. In love, I hope: sweet fellowship in shame! Long. Bion. I could put thee in comfort. Not by two that I know: Thou nakest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, [simplicity. The shape of Love's Tyburn that hangs up Lang. I fear these stubborn lines lack And I had mine! King. And I mine too, good Lord! Biron. Amen, so I had mine: is not that a Would let her out in saucers: sweet misprision! Dum. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. Biron. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. Dum. [reads] On a day-alack the day! Love, whose month is ever May, Through the velvet leaves the wind, That I am forsworn for thee; And deny himself for Jove, 100 110 120 This will I send, and something else more plain, note; For none offend where all alike do dote. Long. [advancing.] Dumain, thy love is far from charity, That in love's grief desirest society: You may look pale, but I should blush, I know. King [advancing]. Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such; You chide at him, offending twice as much; I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion: 140 Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries; One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes: [To Long.] You would for paradise break faith and troth; [To Dum.] And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath. What will Biron say when that he shall hear Faith so infringed, which such zeal did swear? 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, 149 I would not have him know so much by me. Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. [Adrancing. Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me ! Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove 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 perjured, 'tis a hateful thing; Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting! But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not, All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot? You found his mote; the king your mote did see: 161 But I a beam do find in each of three. you: Too bitter is thy jest. I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin 170 In pruning me? When shall you hear that I A true man or a thief that gallops so? Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD. What present hast thou there ? Cost. Some certain treason. King. What makes treason here ? 190 Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. King. If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together. Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read: Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over. Where hadst thou it ? Jaq. Of Costard. [Giving him the paper. 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 Young blood doth not obey an old decree : We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn. king. What. did these rent lines show some love of thine ? 220 |