Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

And shape to win grace, though he had no wit.

I saw him at the duke Alanzon's once,

And much too little of that good I faw
Is my report to his great worthiness.

Rof. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, as I have heard a truth;
Biron they call him: but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.

His

eye begets occafion 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 expofitor)
Delivers in fuch apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished ;
So fweet and voluble is his difcourfe.

Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love,
That

every one her own hath garnished

With fuch bedecking ornaments of praise ?
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Now, what admittance, lord?

Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach;

And he and his competitors in oath

Were all addrefs'd to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came: marry, thus much Iv'e learn'd
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to befiege his court,
Than feek a difpenfation for his oath,
To let you enter his unpeopled house.
Here comes Navarre.

SCENE

SCENE II.

Enter the King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and attendants.
King. Fair princefs, welcome to th' court of Navarre.
Prin. Fair I give you back again, and welcome. I have not
yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours, and welcome
to the wide fields too bafe to be mine.

King. You fhall be welcome, madam, to my court.
Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither.
King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath.
Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forfworn.
King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
Prin. Why, will shall break its will, and nothing else.
King. Your ladyfhip is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my lord fo, his ignorance were wife,
Where now his knowledge muft prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn out house-keeping:
'Tis deadly fin to keep that oath, my lord;
Not fin to break it.

But pardon me, I am too fudden bold:
To teach a teacher ill befeemeth me.
Vouchfafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And fuddenly resolve me in my suit.

King. Madam, I will, if fuddenly I may.
Prin. You will the fooner, that I were away,
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me ftay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Rof. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know, you did.

Rof. How needlefs was it then to ask the question !
Biron. You must not be so quick.

Rof. 'Tis long of you that spur me with fuch questions.

Biron. Your wit's too hot, it fpeeds too fast, 'twill tire.
Rof. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Rof.

Rof. The hour that fools should ask.
Biron. Now fair befall your mask !
Rof. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And fend you many lovers!
Rof. Amen, so you be none!
Biron. Nay, then will I be

gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
Being but th' one half of an entire sum,
Difburfed by my father in his wars.

But fay that he, or we, as neither have,
Receiv'd that fum; yet there remains unpay'd
A hundred thousand more; in furety of which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valu'd to the money's worth:
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unfatisfy'd,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty :
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand, to have repay'd
An hundred thousand crowns, and not demands,
On payment of an hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain fo gelded as it is.

Dear princefs, were not his requests so far

From reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make

A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast,

And go well fatisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name,

In fo unfeeming to confefs receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been pay'd.
King. I do proteft, I never heard of it;
VOL. II.

[ocr errors]

And

And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arreft your word;
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For fuch a fum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

King. Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come,
Where that and other fpecialties are bound:
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,
All liberal reafon I will yield unto:

Mean-time, receive fuch welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of, to thy true worthiness.
You may not come, fair princefs, in my gates,
But here without you fhall be fo receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though fo deny'd fair harbour in my house:
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewel;
To-morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair defires comfort your grace!

King. Thy own wifh wish I thee in every place.

[Exit.

Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.
Rof. I pray you, do my commendations;

I would be glad to see it.

[Exit.

2

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.*

1111

heard it groan.

Rof. Is the fool fick?
Biron. Sick at the heart.
Rof. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ref. My phyfick fays, ay.

Biren. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ref. No poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, god fave thy life!

Rof. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.
Dum. Sir, &c.

* Soul.

[Exit.

Dum.

Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that fame? Boyet. The heir of Alanfon, Rofaline her name.

Dum. A gallant lady! monfieur, fare

you well.

Long. I befeech you, a word: what is the in white? *
Boyet. She is an heir of Faulconbridge.

Lông. She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, fir, that may be."

If my obfervation (which very feldom lies)

Of the heart's ftill rhetorick, difclofed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.*

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

that may be.

Biron. What's her name in the cap?

Boyet. Catharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is the wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, fir, or fo.

Biron. You are welcome, fir: adieu.

Boyet. Farewel to me, fir, and welcome to you.

Mar. That laft is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord;

Not a word with him but a jeft.

Boyet. And every jest but a word.

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

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.

Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry.

Boyet. And wherefore not fhips?

No fheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.

Mar. You fheep, and I pafture; fhall that finish the jeft?

Boyet. So you grant pafture for me.

Mar. Not fo, gentle beaft;

My lips are no common, though feveral they be.

Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree.

This civil war of wits were much better us'd

On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abus'd.

[ocr errors]

Boyet. If my, &c.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

[Exit.

[Exit Long.

[Exit Biron.

O 2

Boyet

« ZurückWeiter »