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Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more
Long. So did our looks.
We did not quote' them so.
A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in : No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much, Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore this, – If for my love (as there is no such cause) You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close
mine eye! Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what
to me? Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are
You are attaint with faults and perjury;
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?
I 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 doth 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
At the twelve month'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 eye, 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 comparisons and wounding flouts ; Which you on all estates will execute, That lie within the mercy of your wit : To weed this wormwood from your
fruitful brain; And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, (Without the which I am not to be won,) You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierces endeavour of your wit, To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of
death? It cannot be; it is impossible : Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing
spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear of him ihat hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear +
that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation. Biron. A twelve-month? well, befal what will
befal, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
[To the King. King. No, madam : we will bring you on your
way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old
play; Jack hath not Jill : these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy.
King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then 'twill end. Biron.
That's too long for a play..
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 hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo ? it should have followed in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD,
and others. This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintain’d by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
Do paint the meadows with delight,