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

And so she died. Had she been light, like you,

15

Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
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?

Ros.

30

I would you knew. 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 picture 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.

50

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.

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

Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously." The boy replied, "An angel is not evil;

105

I should have fear'd her had she been a devil." With that, all laugh'd and clapp'd him on the

shoulder

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.

Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parle, to court, and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress, which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.

125

Prin. And will they so? The gallants shall be task'd,

For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd; And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.

Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, 130 And then the King will court thee for his dear. Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,

So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.

And change you favours too; so shall your loves

Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

135

If they do speak our language, 't is our will 175
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the Princess?
Bir. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?
Boyet. Nothing but peace and gentle visita
tion.

180

To tread a measure with her on this grass. Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a mile

grass.

To tread a measure with you on this
Ros. It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile: if they have measur'd many,
The measure then of one is easily told.

190

Boyet. If to come hither you have measur'd
miles,
tell

And many miles, the Princess bids you
How many inches doth fill up one mile.
Bir. Tell her, we measure them by weary

Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are numb'red in the travel of one mile?
Bir. We number nothing that we spend for
you;

Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

That we may do it still without accompt.

204

As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen, Above the sense of sense; so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings

260

Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

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

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

[Exeunt [King, Lords, and Blackamoors]. Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. Are these the breed of wits so wond'red at ? 266 Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.

Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to

night?

270

325

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 honourable 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-tongu'd Boyet.
King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my
heart,
That put Armado's page out of his part!

331

335

That hid the worse and show'd the better face. King. [Aside.] We were descried; they'll

mock us now downright.

Dum. Let us confess and turn it to a jest. 390 Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?

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

Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Bir. 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,

395

Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout;

Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my igno

King. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression Some fair excuse.

Prin.

The fairest is confession.

Were not you here but even now disguis'd? King. Madam, I was.

Prin.

And were you well advis'd?

King. I was, fair madam.

Prin.

436

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 honour, no.
Prin.

Peace, peace! forbear.

Your oath once broke, you force not to for

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

445

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 honourably doth uphold his word.
King. What mean you, madam? By my life,
my troth,

I never swore this lady such an oath.

450

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.

455

I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she