« 上一页继续 »
And consciences that will not die in debt,
King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with iny heart, That put Armado's page out of his part!
Enter the Princess, ushered by BoYET; Rosaline,
MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants. Biron. See where it comes !-Behavior, what wert
thou, Till this man showed thee? and what art thou now?
King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. · King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better; I will give you leave. King. We came to visit you; and purpose now
To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
As the unsullied lily, I protest,
I would not yield to be your house's guest;
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game. A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam ? Russians ?
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,')
Biron. This jest is dry to me.-Fair, gentle sweet,
eye,Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.
Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong, It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
I cannot give you less. Ros. Which of the visors was it that you wore? Biron. Where? when? what visor ? why demand
you this ? Ros. There, then, that visor ; that superfluous case, That hid the worse, and showed the better face. King. We are descried ; they'll mock us now down
right. Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amazed, my lord ? Why looks your high
ness sad ? · 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?
1 After the fashion of the times.
Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me;
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance ;
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O! never will I trust to speeches penned,
Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend ;1
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song. Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-piled a hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.
Ros. Sans SANS, I pray you.3.
Biron. Yet I have a trick
Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens to us.
Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? 5
2 A metaphor from the pile of velvet. 3 i. e. without French words, I pray you.
4 This was the inscription put upon the doors of houses infected with the plague. The tokens of the plague were the first spots or discolorations of the skin. ,
5 That is, how can those be liable to forfeiture that begin the process ? The quibble lies in the ambiguity of the word sue, which signifies to proceed to law, and to petition.
Biron. Peace; for I will not have to do with you.
gression, Some fair excuse. Prin.
The fairest is confession.
King. Madam, I was.
And were you well advised ?
When you then were here, 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. King. Upon mine honor, no.
Peace, peace, forbear; Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
King. Despise me when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will; and therefore keep it.—Rosaline,
Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
Prin. God give thee joy of him! The noble lord
troth, I never swore this lady such an oath.
Ros. By Heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this ; but take it, sir, again.
King. My faith, and this, the princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain.
1 i. e. you care not, or do not regard forswearing.
I see the trick on’t.—Here was a consent?
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily ?
Cost. O Lord, sir, they would know,
Biron. What, are there but three?
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
And three times thrice is nine.
1 An agreement, a conspiracy. See As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 2. 2 The old copies read yeares : the emendation is Theobald's. 3 i. e. first in will, and afterwards in error.
4 From esquierre (Fr.), rue, or square. The sense is similar to the proverbial saying—He has got the length of her foot.
5 That is, you are an allowed or a licensed fool or jester.