Long. That columbine. Arm, Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.

Dum. Ay, and Hector's greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my device. [To the Princess] Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing. Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.

Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Boyet. [Aside to Dum.] He loves her by the foot.

Dum. [Aside to Boyet] He may not by the yard. [bal, Arm. This Hector far surmounted HanniCost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way. Arm. What meanest thou?

680 Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already: 'tis yours. Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him.

690

Dum. Most rare Pompey! Boyet. Renowned Pompey! Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the Huge!

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them on! stir them on!

Dum. Hector will challenge him. Biron. Ay, if a' have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed Worthies!
Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.
Dum. Most resolute Pompey!

I

Enter MERCADE.

Mer. God save you, madam!

Prin. Welcome, Mercade;

But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.

Mer. I am sorry, madam: for the news I bring Is heavy in my tongue. The king your fatherPrin. Dead, for my life!

Mer. Even so; my tale is told. Biron. Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud. 731

Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies. King. How fares your majesty. Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King, Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,

For all your fair endeavors; and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spints,
If over-bodily we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath: your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord!
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue:
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtain'd.

740

King. The extreme parts of time extremely forms

750

All causes to the purpose of his speed,
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it [lost
From what it purposed; since, to wail friends
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable,
760
As to rejoice at friends but newly-found
Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are
double.

Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;

And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty,

ladies,

Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humors

770

Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
780
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false forever to be true
To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.

Prin. We have received your letters full of love;

790

Your favors, the ambassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy,
As bombast and as lining to the time:
But more devout than this in our respects
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much
more than jest.
Long. So did our looks.
Ros.
We did not quote them so.
King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this: 801
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 stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere insociable life

Prin.

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these de-

serts,

And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and till that instant shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation

For the remembrance of my father's death. 820
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 flatter 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?

Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd,

You are attaint with faults and perjury:

Kath. A beard, fair health, and honesty ; With threefold love I wish you all these three. Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Kath. Not so, my lord, a twelvemonth and a day

I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say:

Come when the king doth to my lady come: Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some. 840 Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.

Kath. Yet swear not, lest 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? mistress, look on me; Behold the window of iny heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there: Impose some service on me for thy love.

850

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Birón, 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 wit. To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, And therewithal to win me, if you please, Without the which I am not to be won, You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick and still converse 861 With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavor of your wit To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat

of death?

ACT I.

Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta.

Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth:
Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
[Exit Philostrate.
Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.
Enter EGEUS, Hermia, Lysander, and
DEMETRIUS.

Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! The. Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?

21

Ege. Full of vexation come I, with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia. Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord, This man hath my consent to marry her. Stand forth, Lysander: and, my gracious duke, This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child: Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,