Arm. 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 Samson was so tempted: and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-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 passado 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. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I. Another part of the same. A pavilion and tents at a distance. Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other attendants. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest‡ spirits: Consider who the king your father sends; * Love. 7 + 'Arrow to shoot at butts with. Of all perfections that a man may owe, Be now as prodigal of all dear grace, As nature was in making graces dear, When she did starve the general world beside, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, Tell him, the daughter of the king of France, [Exit. Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.— Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? 1 Lord. Longaville is one. Prin. Know you the man ? Mar. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge sólemuized, In Normandy saw I this Longaville: A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd ; Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill Ros Another of these students at that time ; Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? Mar. Here comes Boyet. Prin. Re-enter Boyet. Now, what admittance, lord; Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach? And he, and his competitors* in oath, Were all address'dt to meet you, gentle lady, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The ladies mask. Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Na varre. 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 wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall 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 forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise. Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. I hear, your grace hath sworn-out house-keeping: "Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, And sin to break it: But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me, • Confederates. + Prepared. + Whereas. Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, [Gives a paper. King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Biron. I know, you did. Ros. To ask the question! Biron. How needless was it then You must not be so quick. Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. Ros. Not till it leaves the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. King. Madam, your father here doth intimate, The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say, that he, or we (as neither have), Although not valued to the money's worth. |