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Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me?
Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; You are attaint with faults and perjury; Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, But seek the weary beds of people sick.
Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to my?
Kath. A wife! A beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold 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-fac'd wooers say: Come when the king dotli to my lady come, Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
Dum, I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. Kath. Yet swear not, lest you 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 my heart, mine ege, What humble suit attends thy answer there; Impose some service on me for thy love.
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 comparisous and wounding flouts; Which you on all estates will execute, That lie within the mercy of To weed this wormwood from your fruitful bruin ; And, therewithal, to win me, if
you please (Without the which I am not to be won), You shall this twelvenjonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
That's too long for a play.
[To the King.
247 Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.
Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you bear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo ? it should have followed in the ead of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Moth, Costard, and
This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
Do puint the meadows with delight,
And merrylarks are ploughmen's clocks,
Andmaidens bleachtheir summer smocks,
Winter. When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
IT hen all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the
of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way.
Iv this play, which all the editors have concurred to censure, and some have rejected as unworthy of our poet, it must be confessed that there are many