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From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:

They are the ground, the books, the académes, From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. Why, universal plodding prisons up

The nimble spirits in the arteries;

As motion, and long-during action, tires The sinewy vigour of the traveller. Now, for not looking on a woman's face, You have in that forsworn the use of eyes; And study too, the causer of your vow: For where is any author in the world, Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are, our learning likewise is. Then, when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes, Do we not likewise see our learning there? O, we have made a vow to study, lords; And in that vow we have forsworn our books; For when would you, my liege, or you or you, In leaden contemplation, have found out Such fiery numbers, as the prompting eyes Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd you with Other slow arts entirely keep the brain; And therefore finding barren practisers, Scarce shew a harvest of their heavy toil: But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; But with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power; And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye; A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind; A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd; Love's feeling is more soft and sensible, Than are the tender horns of cockled 'snails; Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste; For valour, is not love a Hercules,

Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?

Subtle as sphinx; as sweet, and musical,

As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;

And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,

Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:

They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the académes,
That shew, contain, and nourish all the world;
Else none at all in aught proves excellent :
Then fools you were, these women to forswear;
Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love;
Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men ;
Or for men's sake, the authors of these women;
Or women's sake, by whom we men are men;
Let us once lose our oaths, to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths:
It is religion, to be thus forsworn:
For charity itself fulfils the law;

And who can sever love from charity?

King. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field !

[lords; Biron. Advance your standards, and upon them, Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advised, In conflict that you get the sun of them.

Long. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by: Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France ?

King. And win them too: therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents.

Biron. First, from the park let us conduct them thither;

Then, homeward, every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon

We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
Fore-run fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
King. Away, away! no time shall be omitted,
That will be time, and may by us be fitted.

Biron. Allons! Allons!-Sow'd cockle reap'd no
corn;

And justice always whirls in equal measure : Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn ; If so, our copper buys no better treasure.[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I-Another part of the same.

Enter HOLOFERNES, Sir NATHANIEL, and DULL.
Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Nath. I praise God for you, Sir; your reasons at

• Discourses.

dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasan without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical*. He is too picked†, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet.

[Takes out his Table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography as to speak, dout, fine, when he should say, doubt; det, when he should pronounce, debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t; he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour, vocatur, nebour; neigh, abbreviated, ne: this is abhominable, (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie; Ne intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic.

Nath. Laus deo, bone intelligo.

Hol. Bone?-bone, for benè: Priscian a little scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD.

Nath. Videsne quis venit?

Hol. Video, et gaudeo.

Arm. Chirra!

Hol. Quare Chirra, not sirrah ?

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd.
Hol. Most military Sir, salutation.

[To Moth.

Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. [To Costard aside. Cost. O, they have lived long in the alms-basket of words! I marvel, thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallow'd than a flap-dragon §.

Moth. Peace; the peal begins.

• Boastful. Over-dressed. Finical exactness. A small inflammable, substance swallowed in a glass of wine.

now thou crushest the snake! That is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the worthies?

Hol. I will play three myself.

Moth. Thrice worthy gentleman!
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?

Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you, follow.

Hol. Viat goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, Sir.

Hol. Allons! We will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport, away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the same.-Before the PRINCESS'S Pavilion.

Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we de

part,

If fairings come thus plentifully in:

A lady wall'd about with diamonds!

Look you, what I have from the loving king.

Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? Yes, as much love in

rhyme,

As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all;
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

Ros. That was the way to make his god-head waxt;
For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd
your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might have been a grandam ere she died: And so may you; for a light heart lives long.

Suit.

† Courage.

+ Grow.

Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.

Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snufft; 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. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.

Kath. You weigh me not,-0, 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 play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too : Who sent it? And what is it?

Ros. 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 Birón:

The numbers true; and were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
0, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
Prin. Any thing like?

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.

Bos. 'Ware pencils! How? Let me not die your debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter:

O, that your face were not so full of O's!

Kath.

A pox of that jest! and beshrew all shrows!

Prin. But what was sent to you from fair Dumain? Kath. Madam, this glove.

Prin. Did he not send you twain?

Kath. Yes, madam; and moreover,

Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:

A huge translation of hypocrisy.

Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.

[ville;

Mar. This and these pearls, to me sent Longa

The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no less; Dost thou not wish in heart The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

Formerly a term of endearment. + In anger.

VOL. II.

H

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