Loues Labour's lost

Loues Labour's lost.

Actus primus.

Enter Ferdinand King of Nauarre, Berowne, Longauill, and Dumane.

Ferdinand. LEt Fame, that all hunt after in their liues, Liue registred vpon our brazen Tombes, And then…

Longauill. I am resolu'd, 'tis but a three yeeres fast: The minde shall banquet, though the body pine,…

Dumane. My louing Lord, Dumane is mortified, The grosser manner of these worlds delights, He throwes vpon the…

Berowne. I can but say their protestation ouer, So much, deare Liege, I haue already sworne, That is,…

Ferd. Your oath is past, to passe away from these.

Berow. Let me say no my Liedge, and if you please, I onely swore to study with your…

Longa. You swore to that Berowne, and to the rest.

Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest. What is the end of study, let…

Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not know.

Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) frō cōmon sense.

Ferd. I, that is studies god‑like recompence.

Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so, To know the thing I am forbid to…

Ferd. These be the stops that hinder studie quite, And traine our intellects to vaine delight.

Ber. Why? all delights are vaine, and that most vaine Which with paine purchas'd, doth inherit paine, As…

Fer. How well hee's read, to reason against reading.

Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding.

Lon. Hee weedes the corne, and still lets grow the weeding.

Ber. The Spring is neare when greene geesse are a breeding.

Dum. How followes that?

Ber. Fit in his place and time.

Dum. In reason nothing.

Ber. Something then in rime.

Ferd. Berowne is like an enuious sneaping Frost, That bites the first borne infants of the Spring.

Ber. Wel, say I am, why should proud Summer boast, Before the Birds haue any cause to sing?…

Fer. Well, sit you out: go home Berowne: adue.

Ber. No my good Lord, I haue sworn to stay with you. And though I haue for barbarisme…

Fer. How well this yeelding rescues thee from shame.

Ber. Item. That no woman shall come within a mile of my Court. Hath this bin proclaimed?

Lon. Foure dayes agoe.

Ber. Let's see the penaltie. On paine of loosing her tongue. Who deuis'd this penaltie?

Lon. Marry that did I.

Ber. Sweete Lord, and why?

Lon. To fright them hence with that dread penaltie, A dangerous law against gentilitie. Item, If any man…

Ber. This Article my Liedge your selfe must breake, For well you know here comes in Embassie The…

Fer. What say you Lords? Why, this was quite forgot.

Ber. So Studie euermore is ouershot, While it doth study to haue what it would, It doth forget…

Fer. We must of force dispence with this Decree, She must lye here on meere necessitie.

Ber. Necessity will make vs all forsworne Three thousand times within this three yeeres space: For euery man…

Fer. I that there is, our Court you know is hanted With a refined trauailer of Spaine, A…

Bero. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire, new words, fashions owne Knight.

Lon. Costard the swaine and he, shall be our sport, And so to studie, three yeeres is but…

Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.

Const. Which is the Dukes owne person.

Ber. This fellow, What would'st?

Con. I my selfe reprehend his owne person, for I am his graces Tharborough: But I would see…

Ber. This is he.

Con. Signeor Arme, Arme commends you: Ther's villanie abroad, this letter will tell you more.

Clow. Sir the Contempts thereof are as touching mee.

Fer. A letter from the magnificent Armado.

Ber. How low soeuer the matter, I hope in God for high words.

Lon. A high hope for a low heauen, God grant vs pa­ tience.

Ber. To heare, or forbeare hearing.

Lon. To heare meekely sir, and to laugh moderately, or to forbeare both.

Ber. Well sir, be it as the stile shall giue vs cause to clime in the merrinesse.

Clo. The matter is to me sir, as concerning Iaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken…

Ber. In what manner?

Clo. In manner and forme following sir all those three. I was seene with her in the Mannor…

Ber. For the following sir.

Clo. As it shall follow in my correction, and God de­ fend the right.

Fer. Will you heare this Letter with attention?

Ber. As we would heare an Oracle.

Clo. Such is the simplicitie of man to harken after the flesh.

Ferdinand. GReat Deputie, the Welkins Vicegerent, and sole domi­ nator of Nauar, my soules earths God, and bodies…

Cost. Not a vvord of Costard yet.

Ferd. So it is.

Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is in telling true: but…

Ferd. Peace,

Clow. Be to me, and euery man that dares not fight.

Ferd. No words,

Clow. Of other mens secrets I beseech you.

Ferd. So it is besieged with sable coloured melancholie, I did commend the blacke oppressing humour to the…

Clown. Mee?

that vnletered small knowing soule,

Clow Me?

that shallow vassall

Clow. Still mee?

which as I remember, hight Co­ stard,

Clow. O me

sorted and consorted contrary to thy e­ stablished proclaymed Edict and Continet, Cannon: Which with, ô with, but…

Clo. With a Wench.

Ferd. With a childe of our Grandmother Eue, a female; or for thy more sweet understanding a woman:…

Anth. Me, an't shall please you? I am Anthony Dull

Ferd. For Iaquenetta (so is the weaker vessell called) which I apprehended with the aforesaid Swaine, I keeper…

Ber. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that euer I heard.

Fer. I the best, for the worst. But sirra, What say you to this?

Clo. Sir I confesse the Wench.

Fer. Did you heare the Proclamation?

Clo. I doe confesse much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.

Fer. It was proclaimed a yeeres imprisonment to bee taken with a Wench.

Clow. I was taken with none sir, I was taken vvith a Damosell.

Fer. Well, it was proclaimed Damosell.

Clo. This was no Damosell neyther sir, shee was a Virgin.

Fer. It is so varried to, for it was proclaimed Virgin.

Clo. If it were, I denie her Virginitie: I was taken with a Maide.

Fer. This Maid will not serue your turne sir.

Clo. This Maide will serue my turne sir.

Kin. Sir I will pronounce your sentence: You shall fast a Weeke with Branne and water.

Clo. I had rather pray a Moneth with Mutton and Porridge.

Kin. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. My Lord Berowne, see him deliuer'd ore, And goe we…

Bero. Ile lay my head to any good mans hat, These oathes and lawes will proue an idle…

Clo. I suffer for the truth sir: for true it is, I was ta­ ken with Iaquenetta, and…

Exit.

Enter Armado and Moth his Page.

Arma. Boy, What signe is it when a man of great spirit growes melancholy?

Boy. A great signe sir, that he will looke sad.

Brag. Why? sadnesse is one and the selfe‑same thing deare impe.

Boy. No no, O Lord sir no.

Brag. How canst thou part sadnesse and melancholy my tender Iuuenall?

Boy. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signeur.

Brag. Why tough signeur? Why tough signeur?

Boy. Why tender Iuuenall? Why tender Iuuenall?

Brag. I spoke it tender Iuuenall, as a congruent ap­ athaton, appertaining to thy young daies, which we…

Boy. And I tough signeur, as an appertinent title to your olde time, which we may name tough.

Brag. Pretty and apt.

Boy. How meane you sir, I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying prettie?

Brag. Thou pretty because little.

Boy. Little pretty, because little: wherefore apt?

Brag. And therefore apt, because quicke.

Boy. Speake you this in my praise Master?

Brag. In thy condigne praise.

Boy. I will praise an Eele with the same praise.

Brag. What? that an Eele is ingenuous.

Boy. That an Eele is quicke.

Brag. I doe say thou art quicke in answeres. Thou heat'st my bloud.

Boy. I am answer'd sir.

Brag. I loue not to be crost.

Boy. He speakes the meere contrary, crosses loue not (him.

Br. I haue promis'd to study iij. yeres with the Duke.

Boy. You may doe it' in an houre sir.

Brag. Impossible.

Boy. How many is one thrice told?

Bra. I am ill at reckning, it fits the spirit of a Tapster.

Boy. You are a gentleman and a gamester sir.

Brag. I confesse both, they are both the varnish of a compleat man.

Boy. Then I am sure you know how much the grosse summe of deus‐ace amounts to.

Brag. It doth amount to one more then two.

Boy. Which the base vulgar call three.

Br. True Boy. Why sir is this such a peece of study? Now here's three studied, ere you'll…

Brag. A most fine Figure.

Boy. To proue you a Cypher.

Brag. I will heereupon confesse I am in loue: and as it is base for a Souldier to…

Boy. Hercules Master.

Brag. Most sweete Hercules: more authority deare Boy, name more; and sweet my childe let them be men…

Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage, great carriage: for hee carried the Towne‑gates on…

Brag. O well‑knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson; I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou…

Boy. A Woman, Master.

Brag. Of what complexion?

Boy. Of all the foure, or the three, or the two, or one of the foure.

Brag. Tell me precisely of what complexion?

Boy. Of the sea‑water Greene sir.

Brag. Is that one of the foure complexions?

Boy. As I haue read sir, and the best of them too.

Brag. Greene indeed is the colour of Louers: but to haue a Loue of that colour, methinkes Sampson…

Boy. It was so sir, for she had a greene wit.

Brag. My Loue is most immaculate white and red.

Boy. Most immaculate thoughts Master, are mask'd vnder such colours.

Brag. Define, define, well educated infant.

Boy. My fathers witte, and my mothers tongue assist mee.

Brag. Sweet inuocation of a childe, most pretty and patheticall.

Boy. If shee be made of white and red, Her faults will nere be knowne: For blush‑in cheekes…

Brag. Is there not a ballet Boy, of the King and the Begger?

Boy. The world was very guilty of such a Ballet some three ages since, but I thinke now…

Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I may example my digression by some mighty…

Boy. To bee whip'd: and yet a better loue then my Master.

Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in ioue.

Boy. And that's great maruell, louing a light wench.

Brag. I say sing.

Boy. Forbeare till this company be past.

Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.

Const. Sir, the Dukes pleasure, is that you keepe Co­ stard safe, and you must let him take…

Exit.

Brag. I do betray my selfe with blushing: Maide.

Maid. Man.

Brag. I wil visit thee at the Lodge.

Maid. That's here by.

Brag. I know where it is situate.

Mai. Lord how wise you are!

Brag. I will tell thee wonders.

Ma. With what face?

Brag. I loue thee.

Mai. So I heard you say.

Brag. And so farewell.

Mai. Faire weather after you.

Clo. Come Iaquenetta, away.

Exeunt.

Brag. Villaine, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

Clo. Well sir, I hope when I doe it, I shall doe it on a full stomacke.

Brag. Thou shalt be heauily punished.

Clo. I am more bound to you then your fellowes, for they are but lightly rewarded.

Clo. Take away this villaine, shut him vp.

Boy. Come you transgressing slaue, away.

Clow. Let mee not bee pent vp sir, I will fast being loose.

Boy. No sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Clow. Well, if euer I do see the merry dayes of deso­ lation that I haue seene, some…

Boy. What shall some see?

Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent…

Exit.

Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base) where her shooe (which is baser) guided by…

Exit.

Actus Secunda.

Enter the Princesse of France, with three attending Ladies, and three Lords.

Boyet. Now Madam summon vp your dearest spirits, Consider who the King your father sends: To whom he…

Queen. Good L. Boyet, my beauty though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: Beauty…

Prin. You are not ignorant all‑telling fame Doth noyse abroad Nauar hath made a vow, Till painefull studie…

Boy. Proud of imployment, willingly I goe.

Exit.

Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so: Who are the Votaries my louing Lo□□□ [missing…

Lor. Longauill is one.

Princ. Know you the man?

I Lady. I know him Madame at a marriage feast, Betweene L. Perigort and the beautious heire Of…

Prin. Some merry mocking Lord belike, ist so?

Lad.I. They say so most, that most his humors know.

Prin. Such short liu'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest?

2. Lad. The yong Dumaine, a well accomplisht youth, Of all that Vertue loue, for Vertue loued. Most…

Rossa. Another of these Students at that time, Was there with him, as I haue heard a truth.…

Prin. God blesse my Ladies, are they all in loue? That euery one her owne hath garnished, With…

Ma. Heere comes Boyet.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance Lord?

Boyet. Nauar had notice of your faire approach; And he and his competitors in oath, Were all addrest…

Enter Nauar, Longauill, Dumaine, and Berowne.

Heere comes Nauar.

Nau. Faire Princesse, welcom to the Court of Nauar.

Prin. Faire I giue you backe againe, and welcome I haue not yet: the roofe of this Court…

Nau. You shall be welcome Madam to my Court.

Prin. I wil be welcome then, Conduct me thither.

Nau. Heare me deare Lady, I haue sworne an oath.

Prin. Our Lady helpe my Lord, he'll be forsworne.

Nau. Not for the world faire Madam, by my will.

Prin. Why, will shall breake it will, and nothing els.

Nau. Your Ladiship is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise, Where now his knowledge must proue ignorance. I heare…

Nau. Madam, I will, if sodainly I may.

Prin. You will the sooner that I were away, For you'll proue periur'd if you make me stay.

Berow. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Rosa. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Ber. I know you did.

Rosa. How needlesse was it then to ask the question?

Ber. You must not be so quicke.

Rosa. 'Tis long of you yͭ spur me with such questions.

Ber. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast,'twill tire.

Rosa. Not till it leaue the Rider in the mire.

Ber. What time a day?

Rosa. The howre that fooles should aske.

Ber. Now faire befall your maske.

Rosa. Faire fall the face it couers.

Ber. And send you many louers.

Rosa. Amen, so you be none.

Ber. Nay then will I be gone.

Kin. Madame, your father heere doth intimate, The paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes, Being but th' one…

Prin. You doe the King my Father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name, In…

Kin. I doe protest I neuer heard of it, And if you proue it, Ile repay it backe,…

Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a summe, from speciall Officers, Of…

Kin. Satisfie me so.

Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come Where that and other specialties are bound, To…

Kin. It shall suffice me; at which enterview, All liberall reason would I yeeld vnto: Meane time, receiue…

Prin. Sweet health & faire desires consort your grace.

Kin. Thy own wish wish I thee, in euery place.

Exit.

Boy. Lady, I will commend you to my owne heart.

La. Ro. Pray you doe my commendations, I would be glad to see it.

Boy. I would you heard it grone.

La. Ro. Is the soule sicke?.

Boy. Sicke at the heart.

La. Ro. Alacke, let it bloud.

Boy. Would that doe it good?

La. Ro. My Phisicke saies I.

Boy. Will you prick't with your eye.

La. Ro. No poynt, with my knife.

Boy. Now God saue thy life.

La. Ro. And yours from long liuing.

Ber. I cannot stay thanks‑giuing.

Exit.

Enter Dumane.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What Lady is that same?

Boy. The heire of Alanson, Rosalin her name.

Dum. A gallant Lady, Mounsier fare you well.

Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?

Boy. A woman somtimes, if you saw her in the light.

Long. Perchance light in the light: I desire her name.

Boy. Shee hath but one for her selfe, To desire that were a shame.

Long. Pray you sir, whose daughter?

Boy. Her Mothers, I haue heard.

Long. Gods blessing a your beard.

Boy. Good sir be not offended, Shee is an heyre of Faulconbridge.

Long. Nay, my choller is ended: Shee is a most sweet Lady.

Exit. Long.

Boy. Not vnlike sir, that may be.

Enter Beroune.

Ber. What's her name in the cap.

Boy. Katherine by good hap.

Ber. Is she wedded, or no.

Boy. To her will sir, or so.

Ber. You are welcome sir, adiew.

Boy. Fare well to me sir, and welcome to you.

Exit.

La. Ma. That last is Beroune, the mery mad‑cap Lord. Not a word with him, but a iest.

Boy. And euery iest but a word.

Pri. It was well done of you to take him at his word.

Boy. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to boord.

La. Ma. Two hot Sheepes marie: And wherefore not Ships?[missing 1 units]

Boy. No Sheepe (sweet Lamb) vnlesse we feed on your (lips.

La. You Sheepe & I pasture: shall that finish the iest?

Boy. So you grant pasture for me.

La. Not so gentle beast. My lips are no Common, though seuerall they be.

Bo. Belonging to whom?

La. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits wil be iangling, but gentles agree. This ciuill warre of wits were much better vsed…

Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lies By the hearts still rhetoricke, disclosed with eyes) Deceiue me…

Prin. With what?

Bo. With that which we Louers intitle affected.

Prin. Your reason.

Bo. Why all his behauiours doe make their retire, To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.…

Prin. Come to our Pauillion, Boyet is disposde.

Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath dis­ (clos'd. I onelie haue made a…

Lad. Ro. Thou art an old Loue‑monger, and speakest skilfully.

Lad. Ma. He is Cupids Grandfather, and learnes news of him.

Lad. 2. Then was Venus like her mother, for her fa­ ther is but grim.

Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?

La. I. No.

Boy. What then, do you see?

Lad. 2. I, our way to be gone.

Boy. You are too hard for me.

Exeunt. Omnes.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Broggart and Boy.

Song.

Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hea­ ring.

Boy. Concolinel.

Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him fe­…

Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule?

Bra. How meanest thou, brauling in French?

Boy. No my compleat master, but to Iigge off a tune at the tongues end, canarie to it…

Brag. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Boy. By my penne of obseruation.

Brag. But O, but O.

Boy. The Hobbie‑horse is forgot.

Bra. Cal'st thou my loue Hobbi‑horse.

Boy. No Master, the Hobbie‑horse is but a Colt, and andyour Loue perhaps, a Hacknie: But haue you…

Brag. Almost I had.

Boy. Negligent student, learne her by heart.

Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy.

Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will proue.

Brag. What wilt thou proue?

Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vp­ on the instant: by heart…

Brag. I am all these three.

Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.

Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a letter.

Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be em­ bassadour for an Asse.

Brag. Ha, ha, What saiest thou?

Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse for he is verie slow gated: but…

Brag. The way is but short, away.

Boy. As swift as Lead sir.

Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a mettall heauie, dull, and slow?

Boy. Minnime honest Master, or rather Master no.

Brag. I say Lead is slow.

Boy. You are too swift sir to say so. Is that Lead slow which is fir'd from a…

Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike, He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he: I shoote thee…

Boy. Thump then, and I flee.

Bra. A most acute Iuuenall, voluble and free of grace, By thy fauour sweet Welkin, I must sigh…

Enter Page and Clowne.

Pag. A wonder Master, here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Ar. Some enigma, some riddle, come, thy Lenuoy begin.

Clo. No egma, no riddle, no lenuoy, no salue, in thee male sir. Or sir, Plantan, a plaine…

Ar. By vertue, thou inforcest laughter, thy sillie thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes me…

Pag. Doe the wise thinke them other, is not lenuoy a salue?

Ar. No Page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make (plaine, Some obscure precedence that hath tofore…

Arm. Vntill the Goose came out of doore, Staying the oddes by adding foure.

Pag. A good Lenuoy, ending in the Goose: would you desire more?

Clo. The Boy hath sold him a bargaine, a Goose, that's flat. Sir, your penny‑worth is good, and…

Ar. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?

Boy. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin. Then cal'd you for the Lenuoy.

Clow. True, and I for a Plantan: Thus came your argument in: Then the Boyes fat Lenuoy, the…

Ar. But tell me: How was there a Costard broken in a shin?

Pag. I will tell you sencibly.

Clow. Thou hast no feeling of it Moth, I will speake that Lenuoy. I Costard running out, that…

Arm. We will talke no more of this matter.

Clow. Till there be more matter in the shin.

Arm. Sirra Costard, I will infranchise thee.

Clow. O, marrie me to one Francis, I smell some Len­ uoy, some Goose in this.

Arm. By my sweete soule, I meane, setting thee at li­ bertie. Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured,…

Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

Arm. I giue thee thy libertie, set thee from durance, and in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing…

Pag. Like the sequell I. Signeur Costard adew.

Exit.

Clow. My sweete ounce of mans flesh, my in‑conie Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration. Remuneration,…

Enter Berowne.

Ber. O my good knaue Costard, exceedingly well met.

Clow. Pray you sir, How much Carnation Ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Ber. What is a remuneration?

Cost. Marrie sir, halfe pennie farthing.

Ber. O, Why then three farthings worth of Silke.

Cost. I thanke your worship, God be wy you.

Ber. O stay slaue, I must employ thee As thou wilt win my fauour, good my knaue, Doe…

Clow. When would you haue it done sir?

Ber. O this after‑noone.

Clo. Well, I will doe it sir: Fare you well.

Ber. O thou knowest not what it is.

Clo. I shall know sir, when I haue done it.

Ber. Why villaine thou must know first.

Clo. I wil come to your worship to morrow morning.

Ber. It must be done this after‑noone, Harke slaue, it is but this: The Princesse comes to hunt…

Clo. Gardon, O sweete gardon, better then remune­ration, a leuenpence‑farthing better: most sweete gar­ don. I will doe…

Exit.

Ber. O, and I forsooth in loue, I that haue beene loues whip? A verie Beadle to a…

Actus Quartus.

Enter the Princ□sse, a Forrester, her Ladies, and her Lords.

Qu. Was that the King that spurd his horse so hard, Against he steepe vprising of the hill?

Boy. I know not, but I thinke it was not he.

Qu. Who ere a was, a shew'd a mounting minde: Well Lords, to day we shall haue our…

For. Hereby vpon the edge of yonder Coppice, A Stand where you may make the fairest shoote.

Qu. I thanke my beautie, I am faire that shoote, And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoote.

For. Pardon me Madam, for I meant not so.

Qu. What, what? First praise me, & then again say no. O short liu'd pride. Not faire? alacke…

For. Yes Madam faire.

Qu. Nay, neuer paint me now, Where faire is not, praise cannot mend the brow. Here (good my…

For. Nothing but faire is that which you inherit.

Qu. See, see, my beautie will be sau'd by merit. O heresie in faire, fit for these dayes,…

Boy. Do not curst wiues hold that selfe‑soueraigntie Onely for praise sake, when they striue to be Lords…

Qu. Onely for praise, and praise we may afford, To any Lady that subdewes a Lord.

Enter Clowne.

Boy. Here comes a member of the common‑wealth.

Clo. God dig‑you‑den all, pray you which is the head Lady?

Qu. Thou shalt know her fellow, by the rest that haue no heads

Clo. Which is the greatest Lady, the highest?

Qu. The thickest, and the tallest.

Clo. The thickest, & the tallest: it is so, truth is truth. And your waste Mistris, were as…

Qu. What's your will sir? What's your will?

Clo. I haue a Letter from Monsier Berowne, To one Lady Rosaline.

Qu. O thy letter, thy letter: He's a good friend of mine. stand a side good bearer. Boyet,…

Boyet. I am bound to serue. This Letter is mistooke: it importeth none here: It is writ to…

Qu. We will read it, I sweare. Breake the necke of the Waxe, and euery one giue eare.

Boyet reades.

BY heauen, that thou art faire, is most infallible: true that thou art beauteous, truth it selfe that…

Thine in the dearest designe of industrie,

Don Adriana de Armatho.

Thus dost thou heare the Nemean Lion roare,

Gainst thee thou Lambe, that standest as his pray:

Submissiue fall his princely feete before,

And he from forrage will incline to play.

But if thou striue (poore soule) what art thou then?

Foode for his rage, repasture for his den.

Qu. What plume of feathers is hee that indited this Letter? What veine? What Wethercocke? Did you euer…

Boy. I am much deceiued, but I remember the stile.

Qu. Else your memorie is bad, going ore it erewhile.

Boy. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court A Phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that…

Qu. Thou fellow, a word. Who gaue thee this Letter?

Clow. I told you, my Lord.

Qu. To whom should'st thou giue it?

Clo. From my Lord to my Lady.

Qu. From which Lord, to which Lady?

Clo. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine, To a Lady of France, that he call'd…

Qu. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come Lords away. Here sweete, put vp this, 'twill be thine another…

Exeunt.

Boy. Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter?

Rosa. Shall I teach you to know.

Boy. I my continent of beautie.

Rosa. Why she that beares the Bow. Finely put off.

Boy. My Lady goes to kill hornes, but if thou marrie, Hang me by the necke, if hornes…

Rosa. Well then, I am the shooter.

Boy. And who is your Deare?

Rosa. If we choose by the hornes, your selfe come not neare. Finely put on indeed.

Maria. You still wrangle with her Boyet, and shee strikes at the brow.

Boyet. But she her selfe is hit lower: Haue I hit her now.

Rosa. Shall I come vpon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pippin of…

Boyet. So I may answere thee with one as old that was a woman when Queene Guinouer of…

Rosa. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, Thou canst not hit it my good man.

Boy. I cannot, cannot, cannot: And I cannot, another can.

Exit.

Clo. By my troth most pleasant, how both did fit it.

Mar. A marke marueilous well shot, for they both did hit.

Boy. A mark, O marke but that marke: a marke saies my Lady. Let the mark haue a…

Mar. Wide a'th bow hand, yfaith your hand is out.

Clo. Indeede a' must shoote nearer, or heele ne're hit the clout.

Boy. And if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.

Clo. Then will shee get the vpshoot by cleauing the is in.

Ma. Come, come, you talke greasely, your lips grow foule.

Clo. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir challenge her to boule.

Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good Oule.

Clo. By my soule a Swaine, a most simple Clowne. Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue…

Exeunt.

Shoote within.

Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.

Nat. Very reuerent sport truely, and done in the testi­ mony of a good conscience.

Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood, ripe as a Pomwater, who now hangeth like…

Curat.Nath. Truely M. Holofernes, the epythithes are sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I…

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket.

Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde of insi­ nuation, as it were in via, in way of…

Dul. I said the Deare was not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket.

Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou mon­ ster Ignorance, how deformed doost thou looke.

Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the□dainties that are bred in a booke. He hath not eate…

Dul. You two are book‐men: Can you tell by your wit, What was a month old at Cains…

Hol. Dictisima goodman Dull, dictisima goodman Dull.

Dul. What is dictima?

Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone.

Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was no more. And wrought not to fiue‑weekes when…

Dul. 'Tis true indeede, the Collusion holds in the Exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity, I say th'allusion holds in the Exchange.

Dul. And I say the polusion holds in the Exchange: for the Moone is neuer but a month…

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour…

Nath. Perge, good M. Holofernes, perge, so it shall please you to abrogate scurilitie.

Hol. I will something affect the letter, for it argues facilitie. The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt a…

Nath. A rare talent.

Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him with a talent.

Nath. This is a gift that I haue simple: simple, a foo­ lish extrauagant spirit, full of formes,…

Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners, for their Sonnes are well…

Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingennous, they shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable,…

Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.

Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M. Person.

Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should be perst, Which is the one?

Clo. Marry M. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a hogshead.

Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of con­ ceit in a turph of Earth, Fire enough…

Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard,…

Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vm­ bra ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan,…

Hol. I sir, and very learned.

Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege do­ mine. If Loue make me forsworne,…

Ped. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the accent. Let me superuise the cangenet.

Nath. Here are onely numbers ratified, but for the elegancy, facility, & golden cadence of poesie caret: O­…

Iaq. I sir from one mounsier Berowne, one of the strange Queenes Lords.

Nath. I will ouerglance the superscript. To the snow‑white hand of the most beautious Lady Rosaline. I will…

Per. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries with the King, and here he hath framed…

Maid. Good Costard go with me: Sir God saue your life.

Cost. Haue with thee my girle.

Exit.

Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very religiously: and as a certaine Father…

Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare coloura­ ble colours. But to returne to…

Nath. Marueilous well for the pen.

Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pu­ pill of mine, where if…

Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text) is the happinesse of life.

Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it. Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not…

Exeunt.

Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone.

Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare, I am coursing my selfe. They haue pitcht a Toyle,…

He stands aside.

The King entreth.

Kin. Ay mee!

Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap:…

King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not, To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose,…

Enter Longauile.

The King steps aside.

What Longauill, and reading: listen eare.

Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare.

Long. Ay me, I am forsworne.

Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers.

Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame.

Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name.

Lon. Am I the first yͭ haue been periur'd so?

Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I (know Thou makest the triumphery, the…

Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue. O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue, These…

Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose, Disfigure not his Shop.

Lon. This same shall goe. He reades the Sonnet. Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye, 'Gainst…

Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity. A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure…

Enter Dumaine.

Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay.

Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play, Like a demie God, here sit I in the…

Dum. O most diuine Kate.

Bero. O most prophane coxcomb.

Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye.

Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye.

Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted.

Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted.

Dum. As vpright as the Cedar.

Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with‑child.

Dum. As faire as day.

Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine.

Dum. O that I had my wish?

Lon. And I had mine.

Kin. And mine too good Lord.

Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?

Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be.

Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision.

Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I haue writ.

Ber. Once more Ile marke how Loue can varry Wit.

Dumane reades his Sonnet.

On a day, alack the day: Loue, whose Month is euery May, Spied a blossome passing faire, Playing…

Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie, That in Loues griefe desir'st societie: You may looke pale,…

Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such, You chide at him, offending twice as…

Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie. Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me. Good…

Kin. Too bitter is thy iest. Are wee betrayed thus to thy ouer‑view?

Ber. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. I that am honest, I that hold it…

Kin. Soft, Whither a‑way so fast? A true man, or a theefe, that gallops so.

Ber. I post from Loue, good Louer let me go.

Enter Iaquenetta and Clowne.

Iaqu. God blesse the King.

Kin. What Present hast thou there?

Clo. Some certaine treason.

Kin. What makes treason heere?

Clo. Nay it makes nothing sir

Kin. If it marre nothing neither, The treason and you goe in peace away together.

Iaqu. I beseech your Grace let this Letter be read, Our person mis‑doubts it: it was treason he…

Kin. Berowne, read it ouer.

He reades the Letter.

Kin. Where hadst thou it?

Iaqu. Of Costard.

King. Where hadst thou it?

Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.

Kin. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it?

Ber. A toy my Liedge, a toy: your grace needes not feare it.

Long. It did moue him to passion, and therefore let's heare it.

Dum. It is Berowns writing, and heere is his name.

Ber. Ah you whoreson loggerhead, you were borne to doe me shame. Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confesse,…

Kin. What?

Ber. That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make vp the messe. He, he, and you: and…

Dum. Now the number is euen.

Berow. True true, we are fowre: will these Turtles be gone?

Kin. Hence sirs, away.

Clo. Walk aside the true folke, & let the traytors stay.

Ber. Sweet Lords, sweet Louers, O let vs imbrace, As true we are as flesh and bloud can…

King. What, did these rent lines shew some loue of thine?

Ber. Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heauenly ( Rosaline, That (like a rude and sauage man…

Kin. What zeale, what furie, hath inspir'd thee now? My Loue (her Mistres) is a gracious Moone, Shee…

Ber. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. O, but for my Loue, day would turne…

King. By heauen, thy Loue is blacke as Ebonie.

Berow. Is Ebonie like her? O word diuine? A wife of such wood were felicite. O who can…

Kin. O paradoxe, Blacke is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons, and the Schoole of night:…

Ber. Diuels soonest tempt resembling spirits of light. O if in blacke my Ladies browes be deckt, It…

Dum. To look like her are Chimny‑sweepers blacke.

Lon. And since her time, are Colliers counted bright.

King. And Æhiops of their sweet complexion crake.

Dum. Dark needs no Candles now, for dark is light.

Ber. Your mistresses dare neuer come in raine, For feare their colours should be washt away.

Kin. 'Twere good yours did: for sir to tell you plaine, Ile finde a fairer face not washt…

Ber. Ile proue her faire, or talke till dooms‑day here.

Kin. No Diuell will fright thee then so much as shee.

Duma. I neuer knew man hold vile stuffe so deere.

Lon. Looke, heer's thy loue, my foot and her face see.

Ber. O if the streets were paued with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such…

Duma. O vile, then as she goes what vpward lyes? The street should see as she walk'd ouer…

Kin. But what of this, are we not all in loue?

Ber. O nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworne.

Kin. Then leaue this chat, & good Berown now proue Our louing lawfull, and our fayth not torne.

Dum. I marie there, some flattery for this euill.

Long. O some authority how to proceed, Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the diuell.

Dum. Some salue for periurie.

Ber. O 'tis more then neede. Haue at you then affections men at armes, Consider what you first…

And giues to euery power a double power, Aboue their functions and their offices. It addes a precious…

Kin. Saint Cupid then, and Souldiers to the field.

Ber. Aduance your standards, & vpon them Lords, Pell, mell, downe with them: but be first aduis'd, In…

Long. Now to plaine dealing, Lay these glozes by, Shall we resolue to woe these girles of France?

Kin. And winne them too, therefore let vs deuise, Some entertainment for them in their Tents.

Ber. First from the Park let vs conduct them thither, Then homeward euery man attach the hand Of…

Kin. Away, away, no time shall be omitted, That will be time, and may by vs be fitted.

Ber. Alone, alone sowed Cockell, reap'd no Corne, And Iustice alwaies whirles in equall measure: Light Wenches may…

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter the Pedant, Curate and Dull.

Pedant. Satis quid sufficit.

Curat. I praise God for you sir, your reasons at dinner haue beene sharpe & sententious: pleasant without…

Ped. Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is lofty, his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his eye ambitious,…

Curat. A most singular and choise Epithat,

Draw out his Table‑booke.

Peda. He draweth out the thred of his verbositie, fi­ ner then the staple of his argument. I…

Cura. Laus deo, bene intelligo

Peda. Bome boon for boon prescian, a little scratcht, 'twil serue.

Enter Bragart, Boy.

Curat. Vides ne quis venit?

Peda. Video, & gaudio.

Brag. Chirra.

Peda. Quari Chirra, not Sirra?

Brag. Men of peace well incountred.

Ped. Most millitarie sir salutation.

Boy. They haue beene at a great feast of Languages, and stolne the scraps.

Clow. O they haue liu'd long on the almes‑basket of words. I maruell thy M. hath not eaten…

Page. Peace, the peale begins.

Brag. Mounsier, are you not lettred?

Page. Yes, yes, he teaches boyes the Horne‑booke: What is Ab speld backward with the horn on his…

Peda. Ba, puericia with a horne added.

Pag. Ba most seely Sheepe, with a horne: you heare his learning.

Peda. Quis quis, thou Consonant?

Pag. The last of the fiue Vowels if You repeat them, or the fift if I.

Peda. I will repeat them: a e I.

Pag. The Sheepe, the other two concludes it o u.

Brag. Now by the salt waue of the mediteranium, a sweet tutch, a quicke vene we of wit,…

Page. Offered by a childe to an olde man: which is wit‑old.

Peda. What is the figure? What is the figure?

Page. Hornes.

Peda. Thou disputes like an Infant: goe whip thy Gigge.

Pag. Lend me your Horne to make one, and I will whip about your Infamie vnum cita a…

Clow. And I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread:…

Peda. Oh I smell false Latine, dunghel for vnguem.

Brag. Arts‑man preambulat, we will bee singled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the Charg‑…

Peda. Or Mons the hill.

Brag. At your sweet pleasure, for the Mountaine.

Peda. I doe sans question.

Bra. Sir, it is the Kings most sweet pleasure and af­ fection, to congratulate the Princesse at her…

Ped. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is lia­ ble, congruent, and measurable for the after‑noone:…

Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my fa­ miliar, I doe assure ye very good…

Peda. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Wor­ thies. Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment of…

Curat. Where will you finde men worthy enough to present them?

Peda. Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gen­ tleman Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his…

Brag. Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big…

Peda. Shall I haue audience: he shall present Hercu­les in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling…

Pag. An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience hisse, you may cry, Well done Hercules, now…

Brag. For the rest of the Worthies?

Peda. I will play three my selfe.

Pag. Thrice worthy Gentleman.

Brag. Shall I tell you a thing?

Peda. We attend.

Brag. We will haue, if this fadge not, an Antique. I beseech you follow.

Ped. Via good‑man Dull, thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor vnderstood none neither sir.

Ped. Alone, we will employ thee.

Dull. Ile make one in a dance, or so: or I will play On the taber to the…

Ped. Most Dull, honest Dull, to our sport away.

Exit.

Enter Ladies.

Qu. Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in. A Lady…

Rosa. Madam, came nothing else along with that?

Qu. Nothing but this: yes as much loue in Rime, As would be cram'd vp in a sheet…

Rosa. That was the way to make his god‑head wax: For he hath beene fiue thousand yeeres a…

Kath. I, and a shrewd vnhappy gallowes too.

Ros. You'll nere be friends with him, a kild your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heauy, and so she died: had she beene Light like you,…

Ros. What's your darke meaning mouse, of this light word?

Kat. A light condition in a beauty darke.

Ros. We need more light to finde your meaning out.

Kat. You'll marre the light by taking it in snuffe: Therefore Ile darkely end the argument.

Ros. Look what you doe, you doe it stil i'th darke.

Kat. So do not you, for you are a light Wench.

Ros. Indeed I waigh not you, and therefore light.

Ka. You waigh me not, O that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason: for past care, is still past cure.

Qu. Well bandied both, a set of Wit well played. But Rosaline, you haue a Fauour too? Who…

Ros. I would you knew. And if my face were but as faire as yours, My Fauour were…

Qu. Any thing like?

Ros. Much in the letters, nothing in the praise.

Qu. Beauteous as Incke: a good conclusion.

Kat. Faire as a text B. in a Coppie booke.

Ros. Ware pensals. How? Let me not die your debtor, My red Dominicall, my golden letter. O that…

Qu. A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes: But Katherine, what was sent to you…

Kat. Madame, this Gloue.

Qu. Did he not send you twaine?

Kat. Yes Madame: and moreouer, Some thousand Verses of a faithfull Louer. A huge translation of hypocrisie, Vildly…

Mar. This, and these Pearls, to me sent Longauile. The Letter is too long by halfe a mile.

Qu. I thinke no lesse: Dost thou wish in heart The Chaine were longer, and the Letter short.

Mar. I, or I would these hands might neuer part.

Quee. We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so.

Ros. They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so. That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe. O…

Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht, As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:…

Ros. The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse, As grauities reuolt to wantons be.

Mar. Follie in Fooles beares not so strong a note, As fool'ry in the Wise, when Wit doth…

Enter Boyet.

Qu. Heere comes Boyet, and mirth in his face.

Boy. O I am stab'd with laughter, Wher's her Grace?

Qu. Thy newes Boyet?

Boy. Prepare Madame, prepare. Arme Wenches arme, incounters mounted are, Against your Peace, Loue doth approach, disguis'd: Armed…

Qu. Saint Dennis to S. Cupid: What are they, That charge their breath against vs? Say scout say.

Boy. Vnder the coole shade of a Siccamore, I thought to close mine eyes some halfe an houre:…

Quee. But what, but what, come they to visit vs?

Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Muscouites; or Russians, as I gesse. Their purpose…

Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt: For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt,…

Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight.

Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent?

Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs: They doe it but in mocking merriment, And…

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't?

Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot, Nor to their pen'd speech render we…

Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart, And quite diuorce his memory from his part.

Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt, The rest will ere come in, if he…

Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers come.

Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the rest of the Lords disguised.

Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth.

Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata.

Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes.

The Ladies turne their backes to him.

Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes.

Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes. Out

Boy. True, out indeed.

Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe Not to beholde.

Ber. Once to behold, rogue.

Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes, With your Sunne beamed eyes.

Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite, you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes.

Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out.

Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue.

Rosa. What would these strangers? Know their mindes Boyet. If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will…

Boyet. What would you with the Princes?

Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Ros. What would they, say they?

Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Rosa. Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon.

Boy. She saies you haue it, and you may be gon.

Kin. Say to her we haue measur'd many miles, To tread a Measure with you on the grasse.

Boy. They say that they haue measur'd many a mile, To tread a Measure with you on this…

Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd…

Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles, And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell, How…

Ber. Tell her we measure them by weary steps.

Boy. She heares her selfe.

Rosa. How manie wearie steps, Of many wearie miles you haue ore‑gone, Are numbred in the trauell of…

Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you, Our dutie is so rich, so infinite, That we…

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…

Rosa. O vaine peticioner, beg a greater matter, Thou now requests but Mooneshine 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…

Kin. Will you not dance? How come you thus e­ stranged?

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…

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:…

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…

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.

Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the Razors edge, inuisible: Cutting a smaller…

Rosa. Not one word more my maides, breake off, breake off.

Ber. By heauen, all drie beaten with pure scoffe.

King. Farewell madde Wenches, you haue simple wits.

Exeunt.

Qu. Twentie adieus my frozen Muscouits. Are these the breed of wits so wondred at?