The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 295

MOTH. A woman, master.

ARMADO. Of what complexion?

MOTH. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.

ARMADO. Tell me precisely of what complexion.

MOTH. Of the sea-water green, sir.

ARMADO. Is that one of the four complexions?

MOTH. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.

ARMADO. 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.

ARMADO. My love is most immaculate white and red.

MOTH. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd under such colours.

ARMADO. Define, define, well-educated infant.

MOTH. My father's wit my mother's tongue a.s.sist me!

ARMADO. 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; For blus.h.i.+ng cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by pale white shown.

Then if she fear, or be to blame, By this you shall not know; For still her cheeks possess the same Which native she doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

ARMADO. 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.

ARMADO. 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 whipt; and yet a better love than my master.

ARMADO. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.

MOTH. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.

ARMADO. I say, sing.

MOTH. Forbear till this company be past.

Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA

DULL. Sir, the Duke's pleasure is that you keep Costard safe; and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but 'a must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allow'd for the day-woman. Fare you well.

ARMADO. I do betray myself with blus.h.i.+ng. Maid!

JAQUENETTA. Man!

ARMADO. I will visit thee at the lodge.

JAQUENETTA. That's hereby.

ARMADO. I know where it is situate.

JAQUENETTA. Lord, how wise you are!

ARMADO. I will tell thee wonders.

JAQUENETTA. With that face?

ARMADO. I love thee.

JAQUENETTA. So I heard you say.

ARMADO. And so, farewell.

JAQUENETTA. Fair weather after you!

DULL. Come, Jaquenetta, away. Exit with JAQUENETTA ARMADO. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

COSTARD. Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full stomach.

ARMADO. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

COSTARD. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.

ARMADO. Take away this villain; shut him up.

MOTH. Come, you transgressing slave, away.

COSTARD. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose.

MOTH. No, sir; that were fast, and loose. Thou shalt to prison.

COSTARD. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see.

MOTH. What shall some see?

COSTARD. 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 G.o.d I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet.

Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD ARMADO. 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 b.u.t.t-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 pa.s.sado 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. a.s.sist me, some extemporal G.o.d of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet.

Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

Exit

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ACT II. SCENE II.

The park

Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, with three attending ladies, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, and two other LORDS

BOYET. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits.

Consider who the King your father sends, To whom he sends, and what's his emba.s.sy: Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, To parley with the sole inheritor Of all perfections that a man may owe, Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.

Be now as prodigal of all dear grace As Nature was in making graces dear, When she did starve the general world beside And prodigally gave them all to you.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise.

Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not utt'red by base sale of chapmen's tongues; I am less proud to hear you tell my worth Than you much willing to be counted wise In spending your wit in the praise of mine.

But now to task the tasker: good Boyet, You are not ignorant all-telling fame Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a vow, Till painful study shall outwear three years, No woman may approach his silent court.

Therefore to's seemeth it a needful course, Before we enter his forbidden gates, To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, Bold of your worthiness, we single you As our best-moving fair solicitor.

Tell him the daughter of the King of France, On serious business, craving quick dispatch, Importunes personal conference with his Grace.

Haste, signify so much; while we attend, Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.

Exit BOYET Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?

FIRST LORD. Lord Longaville is one.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Know you the man?

MARIA. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast, Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized In Normandy, saw I this Longaville.

A man of sovereign parts, peerless esteem'd, Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms; Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.

The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil, Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will, Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills It should none spare that come within his power.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?

MARIA. They say so most that most his humours know.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow.

Who are the rest?

KATHARINE. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue loved; Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill, For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, And shape to win grace though he had no wit.

I saw him at the Duke Alencon's once; And much too little of that good I saw Is my report to his great worthiness.

ROSALINE. 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.

His eye begets occasion for his wit, For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. G.o.d bless my ladies! Are they all in love, That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise?

FIRST LORD. Here comes Boyet.