80 Light seeking light doth light of light beguile : So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. Study me how to please the eye indeed, By fixing it upon a fairer eye, Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, And give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. 90 Berowne. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: And though I have for barbarism spoke more Than for that angel knowledge you can say, Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore, And bide the penance of each three years' day. Give me the paper; let me read the same; And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name. King. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! Berowne. Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court. Hath this been proclaimed ? And he that breaks them in the least degree Stands in attainder of eternal shame: Suggestions are to others as to me; But I believe, although I seem so loath, I am the last that will last keep his oath. But is there no quick recreation granted? King. Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted With a refined traveller of Spain; A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain ; One whom the music of his own vain tongue Doth ravish like enchanting harmony; 160 A man of complements, whom right and wrong 170 For interim to our studies shall relate In high-born words the worth of many a knight From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate. How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; But, I protest, I love to hear him lie, And I will use him for my minstrelsy. Berowne. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. Long. Costard the swain and he shall be our sport; And so to study, three years is but short. Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD. Dull. Which is the duke's own person? 180 Berowne. This, fellow. What wou'd'st? Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood. Beroune. This is he. King. sorted and consorted, contrary to thy estabDull. Signior Arm - Arm-commends you. lished proclaimed edict and continent canon, with There's villany abroad: this letter will tell you-with-O! with--but with this I passion to say wherewith, Cost. With a wench. King. With a child of our grandmother Ere, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation. Dull. Me, an 't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull. 206 King. For Jaquenetta,- -80 is the weaker vessel called which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain, -I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heartburning heat of duty, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. Berowne. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. King. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this? Cost. Sir, I confess the wench. King. Did you hear the proclamation? Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it. King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench. Cost. I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damosel. King. Well, it was proclaimed 'damosel.' Cost. This was no damosel neither, sir: she was a virgin. King. It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed 'virgin.' Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid. 291 King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. Be to me and every man that dares not you shall fast a week with bran and water. fight. King. No words! Cost. Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. 229 King. So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper: so much for the time when. Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon: it is ycleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest. But to the place where; it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth, Cost. Me. King. that unlettered small-knowing soul,— Cost. Me. Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. My Lord Berowne, see him deliver❜å o'er : And go we, lords, to put in practice that Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINF. Beroune. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. Sirrah, come on. Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir: for true it is I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Same. Enter ARMADO and MOTH. Arm. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no; O Lord, sir, no. Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. 10 Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty, and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? 21 Arm. Thou pretty, because little. Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? Arm. And therefore apt, because quick. Moth. I will praise an cel with the same praise. 30 Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. 50 Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three. Arm. True. Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now, here is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! 59 Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master. 70 Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion. Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir. Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. 90 Arm. Green indeed is the colour of lovers ; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so, sir, for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. 100 Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known, By this you shall not know, 110 A dangerous rime, master, against the reason of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune. 120 Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. Moth. Aside. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. Arm. Sing, boy: my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. Arm. I say, sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past. 130 Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain: shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave: away! Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose. 162 Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall seeMoth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil: there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour rust, rapier! be still, drum for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rime, for I am sure I shall turn sonneter. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. ACT II. Exit. 193 but mean, 20 Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: 42 50 Kath. The young Dumaine, a well-accomplish'd youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Ros. Another of these students at that time Was there with him, if I have heard a truth: Berowne they call him; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal, King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. 100 King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold: 110 Berowne. Now fair befall your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers! Beroune. And send you many lovers! Ros. Amen, so you be none. Berowne. Nay, then will I be gone. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum Disbursed by my father in his wars. 130 140 But say that he, or we, as neither have, Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong And wrong the reputation of your name, Prin. 160 We arrest your word. Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum from special officers Of Charles his father. King. Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come Satisfy me so. Where that and other specialties are bound: To-morrow you shall have a sight of them. 170 King. It shall suffice me: at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand As honour, without breach of honour, may Make tender of to thy true worthiness. You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so receiv'd, As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: To-morrow shall we visit you again. Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! Exit. Berowne. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart. Ros. Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Berowne. I would you heard it groan. Ros. Is the fool sick? Berowne. Sick at the heart. Ros. Alack! let it blood. 181 |