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. Ros. 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.

190

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.
Ros.
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. 200
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.

Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded

Twice to your visor, and half once to you. King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.

Ros. In private, then. King.

I am best pleased with that. [They converse apart.

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

230 Prin. 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.
Prin.

Seventh sweet, adieu :
Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.
Biron. One word in secret.
Prin.

Let it not be sweet.

Biron. Thou grievest my gall.

Prin. Biron.

Therefore meer.

Gall bitter.

[They converse apart.

Dum, Will you vouchsafe with me to change

Mar. Dum.

a word? Name it.

Fair lady,

Say you so? Fair lord,

Mar.

Take that for your fair lady. Dum.

Please it you, 240

As much in private, and I'll bid adieu,

[They converse apart.

Kath. What, was your vizard made without a tongue ?

Long. I know the reason, lady, why you

ask.

[long.

Kath. O for your reason! quickly, sir; Long. You have a double tongue within

your mask,

And would afford my speechless vizard half. Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not

'veal' a calf ?

Long. A calf, fair lady! Kath.

No, a fair lord calf.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!

King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.

Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. [Exeunt King, Lords, and Blackamoors. Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Bos. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross: fat, fat.

Pria. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves toLight ?

270

Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces ? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros 0, they were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit

Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his sword:

No point, quoth I; my servant straight was

Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder what they were and to what end
Their shallow shows and prologue vilely
penn'd

And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.

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

Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.

[Exeunt Princess, Rosaline, Katharine, and Maria. Re-enter the King, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits.

King, Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess?

310 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. Buron. This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons

pease,

And utters it again when God doth please :
He is wit's pedler, 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 kiss'd his hand away in courtesy ;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honorable 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 every one,
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! Baron. See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou

Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now?

Re-enter the Princess, ushered by BOYET ; ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE. King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time

of day!

To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.

Prin. 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. Prin. You nickname virtue; vice you

should have spoke;

351

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
Now by my maiden honor, 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, vow'd with integrity.

King. O, you have lived in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
We have had pastimes here and pleasant
game:

360

A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam! Russians!
Prin.
Ay, in truth, my lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
Ros. 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 stay'd an hour,
And talk'd 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, 371
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have
drink.

Biron. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle

Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?

Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. 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; [rance; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignoCut me to pieces with thy keen conceit ; And I will wish thee never more to dance, 400 Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd, Nor to the motion of a schoolb. s tongue, Nor never come in vizard to my friend, Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song!

Taffeta plirases, silken terms precise,

Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot estentation: I do forswear them; and I here protest,

410

By this white glove,-how white the hand, God knows!

Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd

In russet yeas and honest kersey noes: And, to begin, wench,--so God help me, la !— My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw. Ros. Sans sans, I pray yon. Biron. 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;

What did you whisper in your lady's ear? King. That more than all the world I did

respect her.

Prin. When she shall challenge this, you

will reject her.

swear.

440

King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.

Prin. I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline,

What did the Russian whisper in your ear? Ros. 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.
Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble
lord

Most bonorably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, madam ? by my life, my troth,

I never swore this lady such an oath.

450

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 favors: and then we, Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she. Now, to our perjury to add more terror, 470 We are again forsworn, in will and error. Much upon this it is: and might not you

[To Boyet
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the squier,
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 allow'd;
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.

481

Boyet. Full merrily Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done.

Enter CoSTARD.

Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.

You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know:

I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,-
Biron. Is not nine.

490

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

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

Cost. O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir. Biron. How much is it?

Cost. 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.

Biron. Art thou one of the Worthies ?

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

Biron. Go, bid them prepare.

510

Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care. [Exit. King. Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach.

Biron. 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.

Prin. 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 con

560

Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect I made a little fault in Great.' Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.

Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander. Nath. 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.

Biron. Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander. 570

Nath. When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander,

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.

Biron. Pompey the Great,Cost. Your servant, and Costard. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.

Cost. To Sir Nath.] O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this : your lion, that holds his poll-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. [Nath. retires.] There, an't shall please you ; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbor, 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. Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. Enter HOLOFERNES, for Judas; and MOTH, for Hercules.

590

Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead. Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a toothdrawer.

And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.