Shakespeare's First Folio - BestLightNovel.com
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Boy. She heares her selfe
Rosa. How manie wearie steps, Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone, Are numbred in the trauell of one mile?
Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you, Our dutie is so rich, so infinite, That we may doe it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to shew the suns.h.i.+ne of your face, That we (like sauages) may wors.h.i.+p it
Rosa. My face is but a Moone and clouded too
Kin. Blessed are clouds, to doe as such clouds do.
Vouchsafe bright Moone, and these thy stars to s.h.i.+ne, (Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne
Rosa. O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter, Thou now requests but Moones.h.i.+ne in the water
Kin. Then in our measure, vouchsafe but one change.
Thou bidst me begge, this begging is not strange
Rosa. Play musicke then: nay you must doe it soone.
Not yet no dance: thus change I like the Moone
Kin. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
Rosa. You tooke the Moone at full, but now shee's changed?
Kin. Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man
Rosa. The musick playes, vouchsafe some motion to it: Our eares vouchsafe it
Kin. But your legges should doe it
Ros. Since you are strangers, & come here by chance, Wee'll not be nice, take hands, we will not dance
Kin. Why take you hands then?
Rosa. Onelie to part friends.
Curtsie sweet hearts, and so the Measure ends
Kin. More measure of this measure, be not nice
Rosa. We can afford no more at such a price
Kin. Prise your selues: What buyes your companie?
Rosa. Your absence onelie
Kin. That can neuer be
Rosa. Then cannot we be bought: and so adue, Twice to your Visore, and halfe once to you
Kin. If you denie to dance, let's hold more chat
Ros. In priuate then
Kin. I am best pleas'd with that
Be. White handed Mistris, one sweet word with thee
Qu. Hony, and Milke, and Suger: there is three
Ber. Nay then two treyes, an if you grow so nice Methegline, Wort, and Malmsey; well runne dice: There's halfe a dozen sweets
Qu. Seuenth sweet adue, since you can cogg, Ile play no more with you
Ber. One word in secret
Qu. Let it not be sweet
Ber. Thou greeu'st my gall
Qu. Gall, bitter
Ber. Therefore meete
Du. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
Mar. Name it
Dum. Faire Ladie: Mar. Say you so? Faire Lord: Take you that for your faire Lady
Du. Please it you, As much in priuate, and Ile bid adieu
Mar. What, was your vizard made without a tong?
Long. I know the reason Ladie why you aske
Mar. O for your reason, quickly sir, I long
Long. You haue a double tongue within your mask, And would affoord my speechlesse vizard halfe
Mar. Veale quoth the Dutch-man: is not Veale a Calfe?
Long. A Calfe faire Ladie?
Mar. No, a faire Lord Calfe
Long. Let's part the word
Mar. No, Ile not be your halfe: Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe
Long. Looke how you but your selfe in these sharpe mockes.
Will you giue hornes chast Ladie? Do not so
Mar. Then die a Calfe before your horns do grow
Lon. One word in priuate with you ere I die
Mar. Bleat softly then, the Butcher heares you cry