The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

finger thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio; but, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable: some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass. The very all of all is-but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy-that the King would have me present the Princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions and sudden breaking-out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.

HOLOFERNES. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.

Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rend’red by our assistance, the King’s command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the Princess-I say none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.

NATHANIEL. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

HOLOFERNES. Joshua, yourself; myself, Alexander; this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules.

ARMADO. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that Worthy’s thumb; he is not so big as the end of his club.

HOLOFERNES. Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

MOTH. An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry ‘Well done, Hercules; now thou crushest the snake!’ That is the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it.

ARMADO. For the rest of the Worthies?

HOLOFERNES. I will play three myself.

MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman!

ARMADO. Shall I tell you a thing?

HOLOFERNES. We attend.

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

HOLOFERNES. Via, goodman Dull! Thou has spoken no word all this while.

DULL. Nor understood none neither, sir.

HOLOFERNES. 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.

HOLOFERNES. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away.

Exeunt

SCENE II.

The park

 

Enter the PRINCESS, MARIA, KATHARINE, and ROSALINE

 

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in.

A lady wall’d about with diamonds!

Look you what I have from the loving King.

ROSALINE. Madam, came nothing else along with that?

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nothing but this! Yes, as much love in rhyme As would be cramm’d up in a sheet of paper Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent and all, That he was fain to seal on Cupid’s name.

ROSALINE. That was the way to make his godhead wax; For he hath been five thousand year a boy.

KATHARINE. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.

ROSALINE. You’ll ne’er be friends with him: ‘a kill’d your sister.

KATHARINE. 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 ‘a been a grandam ere she died.

And so may you; for a light heart lives long.

ROSALINE. What’s your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

KATHARINE. A light condition in a beauty dark.

ROSALINE. We need more light to find your meaning out.

KATHARINE. You’ll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore I’ll darkly end the argument.

ROSALINE. Look what you do, you do it still i’ th’ dark.

KATHARINE. So do not you; for you are a light wench.

ROSALINE. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.

KATHARINE. You weigh me not? O, that’s you care not for me.

ROSALINE. Great reason; for ‘past cure is still past care.’

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play’d.

But, Rosaline, you have a favour too?

Who sent it? and what is it?

ROSALINE. 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 Berowne; The numbers true, and, were the numb’ring too, I were the fairest goddess on the ground.

I am compar’d to twenty thousand fairs.

O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Anything like?

ROSALINE. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Beauteous as ink-a good conclusion.

KATHARINE. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

ROSALINE. Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor, My red dominical, my golden letter:

O that your face were not so full of O’s!

KATHARINE. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows!

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?

KATHARINE. Madam, this glove.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Did he not send you twain?

KATHARINE. Yes, madam; and, moreover,

Some thousand verses of a faithful lover; A huge translation of hypocrisy,

Vilely compil’d, profound simplicity.

MARIA. This, and these pearl, to me sent Longaville; The letter is too long by half a mile.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart The chain were longer and the letter short?

MARIA. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.

ROSALINE. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.

That same Berowne I’ll torture ere I go.

O that I knew he were but in by th’ week!

How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek, And wait the season, and observe the times, And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes, And shape his service wholly to my hests, And make him proud to make me proud that jests!

So pertaunt-like would I o’ersway his state That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. None are so surely caught, when they are catch’d,

As wit turn’d fool; folly, in wisdom hatch’d, Hath wisdom’s warrant and the help of school, And wit’s own grace to grace a learned fool.

ROSALINE. The blood of youth burns not with such excess As gravity’s revolt to wantonness.

MARIA. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note As fool’ry in the wise when wit doth dote, Since all the power thereof it doth apply To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

 

Enter BOYET

 

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.

BOYET. O, I am stabb’d with laughter! Where’s her Grace?

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thy news, Boyet?

BOYET. Prepare, madam, prepare!

Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis’d, Armed in arguments; you’ll be surpris’d.

Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are they That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.

BOYET. Under the cool shade of a sycamore I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour; When, lo, to interrupt my purpos’d rest, Toward that shade I might behold addrest The King and his companions; warily

I stole into a neighbour thicket by,

And overheard what you shall overhear-That, by and by, disguis’d they will be here.

Their herald is a pretty knavish page, That well by heart hath conn’d his embassage.

Action and accent did they teach him there: ‘Thus must thou speak’ and ‘thus thy body bear,’

And ever and anon they made a doubt

Presence majestical would put him out; ‘For’ quoth the King ‘an angel shalt thou see; Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.’

The boy replied ‘An angel is not evil; I should have fear’d her had she been a devil.’

With that all laugh’d, and clapp’d him on the shoulder, Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.

One rubb’d his elbow, thus, and fleer’d, and swore A better speech was never spoke before.

Another with his finger and his thumb Cried ‘Via! we will do’t, come what will come.’

The third he caper’d, and cried ‘All goes well.’

The fourth turn’d on the toe, and down he fell.

With that they all did tumble on the ground, With such a zealous laughter, so profound, That in this spleen ridiculous appears, To check their folly, passion’s solemn tears.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But what, but what, come they to visit us?

BOYET. They do, they do, and are apparell’d thus, Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.

Their purpose is to parley, court, and dance; And every one his love-feat will advance Unto his several mistress; which they’ll know By favours several which they did bestow.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And will they so? The gallants shall be task’d, For, ladies, we will every one be mask’d; And not a man of them shall have the grace, Despite of suit, to see a lady’s face.

Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, And then the King will court thee for his dear; Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine, So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.

And change you favours too; so shall your loves Woo contrary, deceiv’d by these removes.

ROSALINE. Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.

KATHARINE. But, in this changing, what is your intent?

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.

They do it but in mocking merriment,

And mock for mock is only my intent.

Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook, and so be mock’d withal Upon the next occasion that we meet

With visages display’d to talk and greet.

ROSALINE. But shall we dance, if they desire us to’t?

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, to the death, we will not move a foot, Nor to their penn’d speech render we no grace; But while ‘tis spoke each turn away her face.

BOYET. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker’s heart, And quite divorce his memory from his part.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt The rest will ne’er come in, if he be out.

There’s no such sport as sport by sport o’erthrown, To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own; So shall we stay, mocking intended game, And they well mock’d depart away with shame.

[Trumpet sounds within]

BOYET. The trumpet sounds; be mask’d; the maskers come.

[The LADIES mask]

 

Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians MOTH. All hail, the richest heauties on the earth!

BOYET. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.

MOTH. A holy parcel of the fairest dames [The LADIES turn their backs to him]

That ever turn’d their-backs- to mortal views!

BEROWNE. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.

MOTH. That ever turn’d their eyes to mortal views!

Out—

BOYET. True; out indeed.

MOTH. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe Not to behold-BEROWNE. Once to behold, rogue.

MOTH. Once to behold with your sunbeamed eyes-with your sunbeamed eyes-BOYET. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it ‘daughter-beamed eyes.’

MOTH. They do not mark me, and that brings me out.

BEROWNE. Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue.

Exit MOTH

ROSALINE. What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.

If they do speak our language, ‘tis our will That some plain man recount their purposes.

Know what they would.

BOYET. What would you with the Princess?

BEROWNE. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

ROSALINE. What would they, say they?

BOYET. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

ROSALINE. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.

BOYET.