书城公版Love's Labour's Lost
37896800000018

第18章

They converse apart BIRON White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. PRINCESS Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. BIRON Nay then, two treys, and if you grow so nice, Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice!

There's half-a-dozen sweets. PRINCESS Seventh sweet, adieu:

Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. BIRON One word in secret. PRINCESS Let it not be sweet. BIRON Thou grievest my gall. PRINCESS Gall! bitter. BIRON Therefore meet.

They converse apart DUMAIN Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? MARIA Name it. DUMAIN Fair lady,-- MARIA Say you so? Fair lord,--

Take that for your fair lady. DUMAIN Please it you, As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.

They converse apart KATHARINE What, was your vizard made without a tongue? LONGAVILLE I know the reason, lady, why you ask. KATHARINE O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long. LONGAVILLE You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless vizard half. KATHARINE Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf? LONGAVILLE A calf, fair lady! KATHARINE No, a fair lord calf. LONGAVILLE Let's part the word. KATHARINE No, I'll not be your half Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. LONGAVILLE Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!

Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. KATHARINE Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. LONGAVILLE One word in private with you, ere I die. KATHARINE Bleat softly then; the butcher hears you cry.

They converse apart BOYET The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen, Above the sense of sense; so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. ROSALINE Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. BIRON By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! FERDINAND Farewell, mad wenches; you have ****** wits. PRINCESS Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.

Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? BOYET Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out. ROSALINE Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. PRINCESS O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!

Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?

Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces?

This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. ROSALINE O, they were all in lamentable cases!

The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. PRINCESS Biron did swear himself out of all suit. MARIA Dumain was at my service, and his sword:

No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute. KATHARINE Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;And trow you what he called me? PRINCESS Qualm, perhaps. KATHARINE Yes, in good faith. PRINCESS Go, sickness as thou art! ROSALINE Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.

But will you hear? the king is my love sworn. PRINCESS And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me. KATHARINE And Longaville was for my service born. MARIA Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. BOYET Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:

Immediately they will again be here In their own shapes; for it can never be They will digest this harsh indignity. PRINCESS Will they return? BOYET They will, they will, God knows, And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:

Therefore change favours; and, when they repair, Blow like sweet roses in this summer air. PRINCESS How blow? how blow? speak to be understood. BOYET Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud;Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. PRINCESS Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo? ROSALINE Good madam, if by me you'll be advised, Let's, mock them still, as well known as disguised:

Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;And wonder what they were and to what end Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us. BOYET Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand. PRINCESS Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.

Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA Re-enter FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits FERDINAND Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess? BOYET Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty Command me any service to her thither? FERDINAND That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. BOYET I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.

Exit BIRON This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease, And utters it again when God doth please:

He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show.

This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve;A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms: nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and in ushering Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet;The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:

This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whale's bone;And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet. FERDINAND A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado's page out of his part! BIRON See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now?

Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE FERDINAND All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! PRINCESS 'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive. FERDINAND Construe my speeches better, if you may. PRINCESS Then wish me better; I will give you leave. FERDINAND We came to visit you, and purpose now To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. PRINCESS This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow: