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Biron. Once more l'll mark how love can vary wit.
(A side. Dum. On a day, (alack the day!)
Love whose inonth is ever May,
Turning mortal for thy love.
charity, That in love's grief desir’st society : You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, To be o'erheard, and taken napping so. King. Come, Sir, (Advancing.) you blush : as his
your case is such ; You chide at him, offending twice as much : You do not love Maria ; Longaville Did never sonnet for her sake compile; Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart His loving bosom, tu keep down his heart. I have been closely shrouded in this bush, And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush. I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion ; Saw sighs reek from you, voted well your passion : Ah mel says one ; O'Jove! the other cries, ne, her
airs were gold, crystal the other's
eyes : You would for paradise break faith and troth;
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
[To Dumain. What will Biron say, when that he shall hear A faith infringed, which such a zeal did swear! How will he scorn ? How will he spend his wit ? How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it? For all the wealth that ever I did see, I would not have him know so much by me.
Biron. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.Ah, good, my liege, I pray thee, pardon me:
(Descends from the Tree.
King. Too bitter is thy jest.
Biron. Not you by me, but I betray'd to you ;
King. Soft; whither away so fast ? • Grief. Cynic. * In trimming myself.
A true man, or a thiet, that gallops so?
Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD.
Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read ; Our parson misdoubts it ; 'twas treason, he said.
King. Biron, read it over. (Giving him the Letter. Where hadst thou it?
Jaq. Of Costard.
tear it? Etron.. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs
not fear it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore
let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name.
[Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, [To Costard.
you were born to do me shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty; 1 confess, I confess,
make up the mess. He, he, and you, my liege, and I, Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. 0, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you
more. Dum. Now the number is even.
Biron. True, true; we are four :-
King. Hence, Sirs; away.
stay. (Exeunt Costard and Jaquenetta. Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, 0 let us em
brace! As true we are, as flesh and blood can be : The sea will ebb and flow, heaven shew his faco;
Young blood will not obey an old decree : We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore, of all hands must we be_forsworn.
King. What, did these rent lines shew some love
of thine ? Biron. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the
heavenly Rosaline, That, like a rude and savage man of Inde,
Át the first opening of the gorgeous east,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast ?
Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
now ? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
She, an attending star, scarce seen a light. Biron. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Birón: 0, but for my love, day would turn to night! Of all complexions the cullid sovereignty
Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity;
Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,
Fie, painted rhetoric! , she needs it not : To things of sale a seller's praise belongs ;
blot. She passes praise; then praise too short doth A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: Beauty doth varnish age as if new born,
gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. 0, 'tis the sun, that maketh all things shine ! King. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony. Biron. Is ebony like her? 0 wood divine !
A wife of such wood were felicity: 0, who can give an oath ? Where is a book?
That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack, If that she learn not of her eye to look :
No face is fair, that is noi full so black. King. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night; And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. | |Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of
light. O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
It mourns, that painting, and usurping air, Should ravish doters with a false aspéct;
And therefore is she born to make black fair. Herfavour turns the fashion of the days;
For native blood is counted painting now; VOL. II.
And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her, are chimney-sweepers black.
[bright. Long. And since her time, are colliers counted King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion
crack. Dum. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
Biron. Your mistresses dare never come in rain For fear their colours should be wash'd away. King. 'T'were good, your's did ; for, Sir, to tell
you plain, I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk tiîl dooms-day
here. King. No devil will fright thee then so much as she. Dum. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. Long. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see.
[ Showing his shoe. Biron. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread! Dum. O vile! then as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walk'd over head. King. But what ot' this? Are we not all in love!
. for King. Then leave this chat; and, good Birón, now
prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn, Dum. Ay, marry there ;--some flattery for this
evil. Long. 0, some authority how to proceed; Some tricks, some quillets *, how to cheat the devil.
Dum. Some salve for perjury.
Biron. 0, tis more than need ! Have at you then, affection's men at arms : Consider, what you tirst did swear unto; To fast,- to study,--and to see no woman ;Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth. Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young; And abstinence engenders maladies. And where that you have vow'd to study, lords, ! In that each of you hath forsworn bis book : Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look ? For when would you, my lord, or you, or you, Have found the ground of study's excellence, Without the beauty of a woman's face?