Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry beaten with pure scoff!

"King. Farewel, mad wenches; you have simple wits.s

[Exeunt King, Lords, MOTH, Musick and Attendants.

Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites. Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Ros. Well liking wits they have; gróss, gross;

fat, fat.

Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly - poor flout! . Will they not, think you, hang themselves to night?

Or ever, but in visors, show. their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros. O they were all in lamentable cases! The King was weeping ripe for a good word. Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. I Mar. Dumain was at my service, and his

sword:

No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;

And trow you, what he call'd me?

Prin. Qualm, perhaps,

Kath. Yes, in good faith.

Prin. Go, sickness as thou art!

Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute

caps.

But will you hear? the King is my love sworn. Prin. And quick Birón hath plighted faith

tome.

1

Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark

tree.

on

Boyet. Madam, and pretty Mistresses, give ear: Immediately they will again be here

In their own shapes; for it can never be,

They will digest this harsh indignity.

Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows; And leap for joy, though they are lame with

blows:

Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.

Boyet. Fair Ladies, mask'd are roses in their bud; 2841

Dismask'd their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?'

Ros. Good Madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disguis'd:

i

Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder, what they were; and to what end
Their shallow shows, and' prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,

Should be presented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies withdraw; the gallants' are at

[Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSAL. KATHAR. and MARINO 10

Enter the King, BIRON,

LONGAVILLE, and

DUMAIN, in their proper habits.

King. Fair 6ir, God save you! Where is the Princess ?

Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your Majesty, Command me, any service to her thither?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.

Lord.

Boyet. I will, and so will she, I know, my [Exit. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons

peas;

And utters it again when God doth please:
He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares
At wakes, and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we
that sell by gross, the Lord doth

know,

Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve:
He can carve too, and lisp: Why, this is he,
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms; nay, he can sing

A mean most meanly; and, in ushering,

Mend him who can: the ladies call him, sweet;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To show his teeth as white as whales bone:
And consciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet,
King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my
heart,

That put Armado's page out of his part!

Enter

Enter the Princess, usher'd by BOYET; ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants.

Biron. See where he comes!

wert thou,

Behaviour, what

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou

now?

King. All hail, sweet Madam, and fair time of day!

Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave.

King. We came to
To lead you to
Prin. This field

visit you; and purpose now. our court: vouchsafe it then. shall hold me, and so hold

your vow:

Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men. King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;

The virtue of your eye must break my oath. 1 Prin. Your nickname virtue: vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unsullied lilly, I protest,

A world of torments though I should endure,

I would not yield to be your house's guest:

So much I hate a breaking cause to be

Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. 0, you have liv'd in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.

Prin. Not so, my Lord; it is not so, I swear; We have had pastime here, and pleasant game; A mess of Russians left us but of late.

King, How, Madam? Russians?

VOL. IV.

6

Prin. Ay, in truth, my Lord;

Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.
It is not so my
Ros. Madam, speak true:

Lord;

My Lady, (to the manner of the days,)
In courtesy, gives undeserving praise.

We four, indeed, confronted were with four
In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my Lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
When they are thisty, fools would fain have
Nrink.

Biron. This jest is dry to me.

sweet,

Fair, gentle

Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we

greet

With eyes best seeing heaven's fiery eye,
By light we lose light: Your capacity
Is of that nature, that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish,

poor.

and rich things but things

Ros. This proves you wise and rich; for in my

eye,

Biron. I am a fool, and full of poverty.

Ros.

But that you take what doth to you

'belong,
snatch
tongue.

words from my

Biron. O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
Ros. All the fool mine?

Biron. I cannot give you less.

Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you

wore?

Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this?