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 thrice wink, & how
easie it is to put yeres to the word three, and study three
yeeres in two words, the dancing horse will tell you

   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 loue; so am I in loue with a
base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
of affection, would deliuer mee from the reprobate
thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransome
him to any French Courtier for a new deuis'd curtsie. I
thinke scorne to sigh, me thinkes I should out-sweare
Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men haue beene
in loue?
  Boy. Hercules Master

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

   Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage,
great carriage: for hee carried the Towne-gates on his
backe like a Porter: and he was in loue

   Brag. O well-knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson;
I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst mee
in carrying gates. I am in loue too. Who was Sampsons
loue my deare Moth?
  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 had small
reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit

   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 blushin cheekes by faults are bred,
And feares by pale white showne:
Then if she feare, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheekes possesse the same,
Which natiue she doth owe:
A dangerous rime master against the reason of white
and redde

   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 'tis not to be found: or
if it were, it would neither serue for the writing, nor the
tune

   Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I
may example my digression by some mighty president.
Boy, I doe loue that Countrey girle that I tooke in
the Parke with the rationall hinde Costard: she deserues
well

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

   Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in loue

   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 Costard
safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no
penance, but hee must fast three daies a weeke: for this
Damsell, I must keepe her at the Parke, shee is alowd for
the Day-woman. Fare you well.
Enter.

  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 desolation
that I haue seene, some shall see

   Boy. What shall some see?
  Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they
looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their
words, and therefore I will say nothing: I thanke God, I
haue as little patience as another man, and therefore I
can be quiet.
Enter.

  Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base)
where her shooe (which is baser) guided by her foote
(which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which
is a great argument of falshood) if I loue. And how can
that be true loue, which is falsly attempted? Loue is a familiar,
Loue is a Diuell. There is no euill Angell but
Loue, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent
strength: Yet was Salomon so seduced, and hee had
a very good witte. Cupids Butshaft is too hard for Hercules
Clubbe, and therefore too much ods for a Spaniards
Rapier: The first and second cause will not serue
my turne: the Passado hee respects not, the Duello he
regards not; his disgrace is to be called Boy, but his
glorie is to subdue men. Adue Valour, rust Rapier, bee
still Drum, for your manager is in loue; yea hee loueth.
Assist me some extemporall god of Rime, for I am sure I
shall turne Sonnet. Deuise Wit, write Pen, for I am for
whole volumes in folio.

Enter.


Finis Actus Primus.


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 sends, and what's his Embassie.
Your selfe, held precious in the worlds esteeme,
To parlee with the sole inheritour
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchlesse Nauarre, the plea of no lesse weight
Then Aquitaine, a Dowrie for a Queene,
Be now as prodigall of all deare grace,
As Nature was in making Graces deare,
When she did starue the generall world beside,
And prodigally gaue them all to you

   Queen. Good L[ord]. Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by iudgement of the eye,
Not vttred by base sale of chapmens tongues:
I am lesse proud to heare you tell my worth,
Then you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to taske the tasker, good Boyet

   Prin. You are not ignorant all-telling fame
Doth noyse abroad Nauar hath made a vow,
Till painefull studie shall out-weare three yeares,
No woman may approach his silent Court:
Therefore to's seemeth it a needfull course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalfe
Bold of your worthinesse, we single you,
As our best mouing faire soliciter:
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious businesse crauing quicke dispatch,
Importunes personall conference with his grace.
Haste, signifie so much while we attend,
Like humble visag'd suters his high will

   Boy. Proud of imployment, willingly I goe.
Enter.

  Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so:
Who are the Votaries my Louing Lords, that are vow-fellowes
with this vertuous Duke?
  Lor. Longauill is one

   Princ. Know you the man?
  1 Lady. I know him Madame at a marriage feast,
Betweene L[ord]. Perigort and the beautious heire
Of Iaques Fauconbridge solemnized.
In Normandie saw I this Longauill,
A man of soueraigne parts he is esteem'd:
Well fitted in Arts, glorious in Armes:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The onely soyle of his faire vertues glosse,
If vertues glosse will staine with any soile,
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a Will:
Whose edge hath power to cut whose will still wills,
It should none spare that come within his power

   Prin. Some merry mocking Lord belike, ist so?
  Lad.1. 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 power to doe most harme, least knowing ill:
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though she had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alansoes once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthinesse

   Rossa. Another of these Students at that time,
Was there with him, as I haue heard a truth.
Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becomming mirth,
I neuer spent an houres talke withall.
His eye begets occasion for his wit,
For euery obiect that the one doth catch,
The other turnes to a mirth-mouing iest.
Which his faire tongue (conceits expositor)
Deliuers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged eares play treuant at his tales,
And yonger hearings are quite rauished.
So sweet and voluble is his discourse

   Prin. God blesse my Ladies, are they all in loue?
That euery one her owne hath garnished,
With such bedecking ornaments of praise

   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 to meete you gentle Lady
Before I came: Marrie thus much I haue learnt,
He rather meanes to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes heere to besiege his Court,
Then seeke a dispensation for his oath:
To let you enter his vnpeopled house.
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 is too high to bee
yours, and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be
mine

   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 your grace hath sworne out House-keeping:
'Tis deadly sinne to keepe that oath my Lord,
And sinne to breake it:
But pardon me, I am too sodaine bold,
To teach a Teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my comming,
And sodainly resolue me in my suite

   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 y 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 halfe, of an intire summe,
Disbursed by my father in his warres.
But say that he, or we, as neither haue
Receiu'd that summe; yet there remaines vnpaid
A hundred thousand more: in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitaine is bound to vs,
Although not valued to the moneys worth.
If then the King your father will restore
But that one halfe which is vnsatisfied,
We will giue vp our right in Aquitaine,
And hold faire friendship with his Maiestie:
But that it seemes he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to haue repaie,
An hundred thousand Crownes, and not demands
One paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
To haue his title liue in Aquitaine.
Which we much rather had depart withall,
And haue the money by our father lent,
Then Aquitane, so guelded as it is.
Deare Princesse, were not his requests so farre
From reasons yeelding, your faire selfe should make
A yeelding 'gainst some reason in my brest,
And goe well satisfied to France againe

   Prin. You doe the King my Father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so vnseeming to confesse receyt
Of that which hath so faithfully beene paid

   Kin. I doe protest I neuer heard of it,
And if you proue it, Ile repay it backe,
Or yeeld vp Aquitaine

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

   Kin. Satisfie me so

   Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come
Where that and other specialties are bound,
To morrow you shall haue a sight of them

   Kin. It shall suffice me; at which enterview,
All liberall reason would I yeeld vnto:
Meane time, receiue such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of Honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthinesse.
You may not come faire Princesse in my gates,
But heere without you shall be so receiu'd,
As you shall deeme your selfe lodg'd in my heart,
Though so deni'd farther harbour in my house:
Your owne good thoughts excuse me, and farewell,
To morrow we shall visit you againe

   Prin. Sweet health & faire desires consort your grace

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

  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.
Enter.

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.
Enter.

  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?
  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
On Nauar and his bookemen, for heere 'tis abus'd

   Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lies
By the hearts still rhetoricke, disclosed with eyes)
Deceiue me not now, Nauar is infected

   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.
His hart like an Agot with your print impressed,
Proud with his forme, in his eie pride expressed.
His tongue all impatient to speake and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eie-sight to be,
All sences to that sence did make their repaire,
To feele onely looking on fairest of faire:
Me thought all his sences were lockt in his eye,
As Iewels in Christall for some Prince to Buy.
Who tendring their own worth from whence they were glast,
Did point out to buy them along as you past.
His faces owne margent did coate such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eies inchanted with gazes.
Ile giue you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
And you giue him for my sake, but one louing Kisse

   Prin. Come to our Pauillion, Boyet is disposde

   Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath disclos'd.
I onelie haue made a mouth of his eie,
By adding a tongue, which I know will not lie

   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 father
is but grim

   Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?
  La.1. 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 Braggart and Boy.

Song.

  Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hearing

   Boy. Concolinel

   Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take
this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him festinatly
hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my
Loue

   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 with the feete, humour
it with turning vp your eie: sigh a note and sing a note,
sometime through the throate: if you swallowed loue
with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you
snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouselike
ore the shop of your eies, with your armes crost on
your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your
hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting,
and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away:
these are complements, these are humours, these betraie
nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and
make them men of note: do you note men that most are
affected to these?
  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
and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie:
but haue you forgot your Loue?
  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, vpon
the instant: by heart you loue her, because your heart
cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your
heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her,
being out of heart that you cannot enioy her

   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 embassadour
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 I goe

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

   Boy. Thump then, and I flee

   Bra. A most acute Iuuenall, voluble and free of grace,
By thy fauour sweet Welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
Most rude melancholie, Valour giues thee place.
My Herald is return'd.
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 Plantan: no lenuoy, no
lenuoy, no Salue sir, but a Plantan

   Ar. By vertue, thou inforcest laughter, thy sillie
thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes
me to rediculous smyling: O pardon me my stars, doth
the inconsiderate take salue for lenuoy, and the word lenuoy
for a salue?
  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 bin faine.
Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
my lenuoy.
The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
Were still at oddes, being but three

   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 your Goose be fat.
To sell a bargaine well is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see a fat Lenuoy, I that's a fat Goose

   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 Goose that you bought,
And he ended the market

   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 was safely within,
Fell ouer the threshold, and broke my shin

   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 Lenuoy,
some Goose in this

   Arm. By my sweete soule, I meane, setting thee at libertie.
Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured,
restrained, captiuated, bound

   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 but this:
Beare this significant to the countrey Maide Iaquenetta:
there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honours
is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow

   Pag. Like the sequell I.
Signeur Costard adew.
Enter.

  Clow. My sweete ounce of mans flesh, my inconie
Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration.
Remuneration, O, that's the Latine word for three-farthings:
Three-farthings remuneration, What's the price
of this yncle? i.d. no, Ile giue you a remuneration: Why?
It carries it remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
a French-Crowne. I will neuer buy and sell out of this
word.
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 threefarthings 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 one thing for me that I shall intreate

   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 here in the Parke,
And in her traine there is a gentle Ladie:
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her, aske for her:
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-vp counsaile. Ther's thy guerdon: goe

   Clo. Gardon, O sweete gardon, better then remuneration,
a leuenpence-farthing better: most sweete gardon.
I will doe it sir in print: gardon, remuneration.
Enter.

  Ber. O, and I forsooth in loue,
I that haue beene loues whip?
A verie Beadle to a humerous sigh: A Criticke,
Nay, a night-watch Constable.
A domineering pedant ore the Boy,
Then whom no mortall so magnificent,
This wimpled, whyning, purblinde waiward Boy,
This signior Iunios gyant dwarfe, don Cupid,
Regent of Loue-rimes, Lord of folded armes,
Th' annointed soueraigne of sighes and groanes:
Liedge of all loyterers and malecontents:
Dread Prince of Placcats, King of Codpeeces.
Sole Emperator and great generall
Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)
And I to be a Corporall of his field,
And weare his colours like a Tumblers hoope.
What? I loue, I sue, I seeke a wife,
A woman that is like a Germane Cloake,
Still a repairing: euer out of frame,
And neuer going a right, being a Watch:
But being watcht, that it may still goe right.
Nay, to be periurde, which is worst of all:
And among three, to loue the worst of all,
A whitly wanton, with a veluet brow.
With two pitch bals stucke in her face for eyes.
I, and by heauen, one that will doe the deede,
Though Argus were her Eunuch and her garde.
And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
To pray for her, go to: it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect,
Of his almighty dreadfull little might.
Well, I will loue, write, sigh, pray, shue, grone,
Some men must loue my Lady, and some Ione.

Actus Quartus.

Enter the Princesse, a Forrester, her Ladies, and her Lords.

  Qu. Was that the King that spurd his horse so hard,
Against the 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 dispatch,
On Saterday we will returne to France.
Then Forrester my friend, Where is the Bush
That we must stand and play the murtherer in?
  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 woe

   For. Yes Madam faire

   Qu. Nay, neuer paint me now,
Where faire is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here (good my glasse) take this for telling true:
Faire paiment for foule words, is more then due

   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,
A giuing hand, though foule, shall haue faire praise.
But come, the Bow: Now Mercie goes to kill,
And shooting well, is then accounted ill:
Thus will I saue my credit in the shoote,
Not wounding, pittie would not let me do't:
If wounding, then it was to shew my skill,
That more for praise, then purpose meant to kill.
And out of question, so it is sometimes:
Glory growes guiltie of detested crimes,
When for Fames sake, for praise an outward part,
We bend to that, the working of the hart.
As I for praise alone now seeke to spill
The poore Deeres blood, that my heart meanes no ill

   Boy. Do not curst wiues hold that selfe-soueraigntie
Onely for praise sake, when they striue to be
Lords ore their 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 slender as my wit,
One a these Maides girdles for your waste should be fit.
Are not you the chiefe woma[n]? You are the thickest here?
  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, you can carue,
Breake vp this Capon

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

   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 thou art
louely: more fairer then faire, beautifull then beautious,
truer then truth it selfe: haue comiseration on thy heroicall
Vassall. The magnanimous and most illustrate King
Cophetua set eie vpon the pernicious and indubitate Begger
Zenelophon: and he it was that might rightly say, Veni,
vidi, vici: Which to annothanize in the vulgar, O
base and obscure vulgar; videliset, He came, See, and ouercame:
hee came one; see, two; ouercame three:
Who came? the King. Why did he come? to see. Why
did he see? to ouercome. To whom came he? to the
Begger. What saw he? the Begger. Who ouercame
he? the Begger. The conclusion is victorie: On whose
side? the King: the captiue is inricht: On whose side?
the Beggers. The catastrophe is a Nuptiall: on whose
side? the Kings: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am
the King (for so stands the comparison) thou the Begger,
for so witnesseth thy lowlinesse. Shall I command
thy loue? I may. Shall I enforce thy loue? I could.
Shall I entreate thy loue? I will. What, shalt thou exchange
for ragges, roabes: for tittles titles, for thy selfe
mee. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on
thy foote, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy
euerie part.
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 heare better?
  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 makes sport
To the Prince and his Booke-mates

   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 Rosaline

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

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 that yeare miscarrie.
Finely put on

   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 indeede

   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 France was a little boy, as
touching the hit it

   Boyet. So I may answere thee with one as old that
was a woman when Queene Guinouer of Brittaine was a
little wench, as touching the hit it

   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.
Enter.

  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 pricke in't, to meat at, if it may be

   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 put him downe.
O my troth most sweete iests, most inconie vulgar wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were,
so fit.
Armathor ath to the side, O a most dainty man.
To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
To see him kisse his hand, and how most sweetly a will
sweare:
And his Page atother side, that handfull of wit,
Ah heauens, it is most patheticall nit.
Sowla, sowla.

Exeunt. Shoote within.

Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.

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

   Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood,
ripe as a Pomwater who now hangeth like a Iewell in
the eare of Celo the skie; the welken the heauen, and anon
falleth like a Crab on the face of Terra, the soyle, the
land, the earth

   Curat.Nath. Truely M[aster]. Holofernes, the epythithes are
sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I assure
ye, it was a Bucke of the first head

   Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo

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

   Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde of insinuation,
as it were in via, in way of explication facere: as
it were replication, or rather ostentare, to show as it were
his inclination after his vndressed, vnpolished, vneducated,
vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or ratherest
vnconfirmed fashion, to insert againe my haud credo
for a Deare

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

   Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou monster
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 paper as it were:
He hath not drunke inke.
His intellect is not replenished, hee is onely an animall,
onely sensible in the duller parts: and such barren plants
are set before vs, that we thankfull should be: which we
taste and feeling, are for those parts that doe fructifie in
vs more then he.
For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or
a foole;
So were there a patch set on Learning, to see him in a
Schoole.
But omne bene say I, being of an old Fathers minde,
Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde

   Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your
wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue
weekes old as yet?
  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 he came to fiuescore.
Th' allusion holds in the Exchange

   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 old: and I say beside
that, 'twas a Pricket that the Princesse kill'd

   Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall
Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour
the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a
Pricket

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

   Hol. I will something affect a letter, for it argues
facilitie.
The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt
a prettie pleasing Pricket,
Some say a Sore, but not a sore,
till now made sore with shooting.
The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore,
then Sorrell iumps from thicket:
Or Pricket-sore, or else Sorell,
the people fall a hooting.
If Sore be sore, than ell to Sore,
makes fiftie sores O sorell:
Of one sore I an hundred make
by adding but one more L

   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 foolish
extrauagant spirit, full of formes, figures, shapes, obiects,
Ideas, apprehensions, motions, reuolutions. These
are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the
wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing
of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is
acute, and I am thankfull for it

   Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my
parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you,
and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you
are a good member of the common-wealth

   Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingenuous, they
shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable,
I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca loquitur, a
soule Feminine saluteth vs.
Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.

  Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M[aster]. Person

   Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should
be perst, Which is the one?
  Clo. Marry M[aster]. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a
hogshead

   Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit
in a turph of Earth, Fire enough for a Flint, Pearle
enough for a Swine: 'tis prettie, it is well

   Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee
this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard, and sent mee
from Don Armatho: I beseech you read it

   Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra
ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan, I
may speake of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie,
vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perreche. Old Mantuan,
old Mantuan. Who vnderstandeth thee not, vt re
sol la mi fa: Vnder pardon sir, What are the contents? or
rather as Horrace sayes in his, What my soule verses

   Hol. I sir, and very learned

   Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege domine.
If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue?
Ah neuer faith could hold, if not to beautie vowed.
Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile faithfull proue.
Those thoughts to mee were Okes, to thee like Osiers
bowed.
Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes.
Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend.
If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice.
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee co[m]mend.
All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder.
Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;
Thy eye Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadfull
thunder.
Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fire.
Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong,
That sings heauens praise, with such an earthly tongue

   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: Ouiddius
Naso was the man. And why in deed Naso, but
for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the
ierkes of inuention imitarie is nothing: So doth the
Hound his master, the Ape his keeper, the tyred Horse
his rider: But Damosella virgin, Was this directed to
you?
  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 looke againe on the intellect of the Letter, for
the nomination of the partie written to the person written
vnto.
Your Ladiships in all desired imployment, Berowne

   Ped. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries
with the King, and here he hath framed a Letter to a sequent
of the stranger Queens: which accidentally, or
by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and
goe my sweete, deliuer this Paper into the hand of the
King, it may concerne much: stay not thy complement, I
forgiue thy duetie, adue

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

   Cost. Haue with thee my girle.
Enter.

  Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very
religiously: and as a certaine Father saith
  Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare colourable
colours. But to returne to the Verses, Did they please
you sir Nathaniel?
  Nath. Marueilous well for the pen

   Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill
of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to
gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I
haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill,
vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those
Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of
Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie

   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 say me nay: pauca
verba.
Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our
recreation.

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, I am toyling in a pytch,
pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee
downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say
I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this
Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a
sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue;
if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by
this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for
her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye,
and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath
taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is
part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she
hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the
Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter
Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care
a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a
paper, God giue him grace to grone.

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: in faith
secrets

   King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not,
To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose,
As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot.
The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright,
Through the transparent bosome of the deepe,
As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light:
Thou shin'st in euery teare that I doe weepe,
No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee:
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the teares that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my griefe will show:
But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe.
O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell,
No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
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 y haue been periur'd so?
  Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know,
Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie,
The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie

   Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue.
O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue,
These numbers will I teare, and write in prose

   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 whom the world cannot hold argument,
Perswade my heart to this false periurie?
Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment.
A Woman I forswore, but I will proue,
Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee.
My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine,
Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke, What foole is not so wise,
To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?
  Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity.
A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure Idolatry.
God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th' way.
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 skie,
And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish,
Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish

   Dum. O most diuine Kate

   Bero. O most prophane coxcombe

   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 in the wanton ayre:
Through the Veluet, leaues the winde,
All vnseene, can passage finde.
That the Louer sicke to death,
Wish himselfe the heauens breath.
Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe,
Ayre, would I might triumph so.
But alacke my hand is sworne,
Nere to plucke thee from thy throne:
Vow alacke for youth vnmeete,
youth so apt to plucke a sweet.
Doe not call it sinne in me,
That I am forsworne for thee.
Thou for whom Ioue would sweare,
Iuno but an aethiop were,
And denie himselfe for Ioue.
Turning mortall for thy Loue.
This will I send, and something else more plaine.
That shall expresse my true-loues fasting paine.
O would the King, Berowne and Longauill,
Were Louers too, ill to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a periur'd note:
For none offend, where all alike doe dote

   Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie,
That in Loues griefe desir'st societie:
You may looke pale, but I should blush I know,
To be ore-heard, and taken napping so

   Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such,
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You doe not loue Maria? Longauile,
Did neuer Sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor neuer lay his wreathed armes athwart
His louing bosome, to keepe downe his heart.
I haue beene closely shrowded in this bush,
And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty Rimes, obseru'd your fashion:
Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion.
Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries!
On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,
And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall heare
Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare.
How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that euer I did see,
I would not haue him know so much by me

   Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie.
Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me.
Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reproue
These wormes for louing, that art most in loue?
Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares.
There is no certaine Princesse that appeares.
You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing:
Tush, none but Minstrels like of Sonnetting.
But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not
All three of you, to be thus much ore'shot?
You found his Moth, the King your Moth did see:
But I a Beame doe finde in each of three.
O what a Scene of fool'ry haue I seene.
Of sighes, of grones, of sorrow, and of teene:
O me, with what strict patience haue I sat,
To see a King transformed to a Gnat?
To see great Hercules whipping a Gigge,
And profound Salomon tuning a Iygge?
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boyes,
And Critticke Tymon laugh at idle toyes.
Where lies thy griefe? O tell me good Dumaine;
And gentle Longauill, where lies thy paine?
And where my Liedges? all about the brest:
A Candle hoa!
  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 sinne
To breake the vow I am ingaged in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men, like men of inconstancie.
When shall you see me write a thing in rime?
Or grone for Ioane? or spend a minutes time,
In pruning mee, when shall you heare that I will praise a
hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a state, a brow, a brest,
a waste, a legge, a limme

   Kin. Soft, Whither away 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 said

   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, I confesse

   Kin. What?
  Ber. That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make
vp the messe.
He, he, and you: and you my Liedge, and I,
Are picke-purses in Loue, and we deserue to die.
O dismisse this audience, and I shall tell you more

   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 be,
The Sea will ebbe and flow, heauen will shew his face:
Young bloud doth not obey an old decree.
We cannot crosse the cause why we are borne:
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworne

   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 of Inde.)
At the first opening of the gorgeous East,
Bowes not his vassall head, and strooken blinde,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory Eagle-sighted eye
Dares looke vpon the heauen of her brow,
That is not blinded by her maiestie?
  Kin. What zeale, what furie, hath inspir'd thee now?
My Loue (her Mistres) is a gracious Moone,
Shee (an attending Starre) scarce seene a light

   Ber. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
O, but for my Loue, day would turne to night,
Of all complexions the cul'd soueraignty,
Doe meet as at a faire in her faire cheeke,
Where seuerall Worthies make one dignity,
Where nothing wants, that want it selfe doth seeke.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,
Fie painted Rethoricke, O she needs it not,
To things of sale, a sellers praise belongs:
She passes prayse, then prayse too short doth blot.
A withered Hermite, fiuescore winters worne,
Might shake off fiftie, looking in her eye:
Beauty doth varnish Age, as if new borne,
And giues the Crutch the Cradles infancie.
O 'tis the Sunne that maketh all things shine

   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 giue an oth? Where is a booke?
That I may sweare Beauty doth beauty lacke,
If that she learne not of her eye to looke:
No face is faire that is not full so blacke

   Kin. O paradoxe, Blacke is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons, and the Schoole of night:
And beauties crest becomes the heauens well

   Ber. Diuels soonest tempt resembling spirits of light.
O if in blacke my Ladies browes be deckt,
It mournes, that painting vsurping haire
Should rauish doters with a false aspect:
And therfore is she borne to make blacke, faire.
Her fauour turnes the fashion of the dayes,
For natiue bloud is counted painting now:
And therefore red that would auoyd dispraise,
Paints it selfe blacke, to imitate her brow

   Dum. To look like her are Chimny-sweepers blacke

   Lon. And since her time, are Colliers counted bright

   King. And Aethiops 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 to day

   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 tread

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

   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 did sweare vnto:
To fast, to study, and to see no woman:
Flat treason against the Kingly state of youth.
Say, Can you fast? your stomacks are too young:
And abstinence ingenders maladies.
And where that you haue vow'd to studie (Lords)
In that each of you haue forsworne his Booke.
Can you still dreame and pore, and thereon looke.
For when would you my Lord, or you, or you,
Haue found the ground of studies excellence,
Without the beauty of a womans face;
From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue,
They are the Ground, the Bookes, the Achadems,
From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
Why, vniuersall plodding poysons vp
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long during action tyres
The sinnowy vigour of the trauailer.
Now for not looking on a womans face,
You haue in that forsworne the vse of eyes:
And studie too, the causer of your vow.
For where is any Author in the world,
Teaches such beauty as a womans eye:
Learning is but an adiunct to our selfe,
And where we are, our Learning likewise is.
Then when our selues we see in Ladies eyes,
With our selues.
Doe we not likewise see our learning there?
O we haue made a Vow to studie, Lords,
And in that vow we haue forsworne our Bookes:
For when would you (my Leege) or you, or you?
In leaden contemplation haue found out
Such fiery Numbers as the prompting eyes,
Of beauties tutors haue inrich'd you with:
Other slow Arts intirely keepe the braine:
And therefore finding barraine practizers,
Scarce shew a haruest of their heauy toyle.
But Loue first learned in a Ladies eyes,
Liues not alone emured in the braine:
But with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in euery power,
And giues to euery power a double power,
Aboue their functions and their offices.
It addes a precious seeing to the eye:
A Louers eyes will gaze an Eagle blinde.
A Louers eare will heare the lowest sound.
When the suspicious head of theft is stopt.
Loues feeling is more soft and sensible,
Then are the tender hornes of Cockle Snayles.
Loues tongue proues dainty, Bachus grosse in taste,
For Valour, is not Loue a Hercules?
Still climing trees in the Hesperides.
Subtill as Sphinx, as sweet and musicall,
As bright Apollo's Lute, strung with his haire.
And when Loue speakes, the voyce of all the Gods,
Make heauen drowsie with the harmonie.
Neuer durst Poet touch a pen to write,
Vntill his Inke were tempred with Loues sighes:
O then his lines would rauish sauage eares,
And plant in Tyrants milde humilitie.
From womens eyes this doctrine I deriue.
They sparcle still the right promethean fire,
They are the Bookes, the Arts, the Achademes,
That shew, containe, and nourish all the world.
Else none at all in ought proues excellent.
Then fooles you were these women to forsweare:
Or keeping what is sworne, you will proue fooles,
For Wisedomes sake, a word that all men loue:
Or for Loues sake, a word that loues all men.
Or for Mens sake, the author of these Women:
Or Womens sake, by whom we men are Men.
Let's once loose our oathes to finde our selues,
Or else we loose our selues, to keepe our oathes:
It is religion to be thus forsworne.
For Charity it selfe fulfills the Law:
And who can seuer loue from Charity

   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 conflict that you get the Sunne of them

   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 his faire Mistresse, in the afternoone
We will with some strange pastime solace them:
Such as the shortnesse of the time can shape,
For Reuels, Dances, Maskes, and merry houres,
Fore-runne faire Loue, strewing her way with flowres

   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 proue plagues to men forsworne,
If so, our Copper buyes no better treasure.

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 scurrillity,
witty without affection, audacious without impudency,
learned without opinion, and strange without
heresie: I did conuerse this quondam day with a companion
of the Kings, who is intituled, nominated, or called,
Don Adriano de Armatho

   Ped. Noui hominum tanquam te, His humour is lofty,
his discourse peremptorie: his tongue filed, his eye
ambitious, his gate maiesticall, and his generall behauiour
vaine, ridiculous, and thrasonicall. He is too picked,
too spruce, too affected, too odde, as it were, too peregrinat,
as I may call it

   Curat. A most singular and choise Epithat,

Draw out his Table-booke.

  Peda. He draweth out the thred of his verbositie, finer
then the staple of his argument. I abhor such phanaticall
phantasims, such insociable and poynt deuise
companions, such rackers of ortagriphie, as to speake
dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he shold
pronounce debt; debt, not det: he clepeth a Calf, Caufe:
halfe, haufe: neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abreuiated
ne: this is abhominable, which he would call abhominable
it insinuateth me of infamie: ne inteligis domine, to
make franticke, lunaticke?
  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[aster]. hath not eaten thee for a word,
for thou art not so long by the head as
honorificabilitu%dinitatibus:
Thou art easier swallowed then a flapdragon

   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 head?
  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 venewe of wit, snip snap, quick &
home, it reioyceth my intellect, true 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 gigge of a Cuckolds
horne

   Clow. And I had but one penny in the world, thou
shouldst haue it to buy Ginger bread: Hold, there is the
very Remuneration I had of thy Maister, thou halfpenny
purse of wit, thou Pidgeon-egge of discretion. O & the
heauens were so pleased, that thou wert but my Bastard;
What a ioyfull father wouldst thou make mee? Goe to,
thou hast it ad dungil, at the fingers ends, as they say

   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 Charghouse
on the top of the Mountaine?
  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 affection,
to congratulate the Princesse at her Pauilion, in
the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call
the after-noone

   Ped. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable,
congruent, and measurable for the after-noone: the
word is well culd, chose, sweet, and apt I doe assure you
sir, I doe assure

   Brag. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my familiar,
I doe assure ye very good friend: for what is inward
betweene vs, let it passe. I doe beseech thee remember
thy curtesie. I beseech thee apparell thy head:
and among other importunate & most serious designes,
and of great import indeed too: but let that passe, for I
must tell thee it will please his Grace (by the world)
sometime to leane vpon my poore shoulder, and with
his royall finger thus dallie with my excrement, with my
mustachio: but sweet heart let that passe. By the world
I recount no fable, some certaine speciall honours it
pleaseth his greatnesse to impart to Armado a Souldier,
a man of trauell, that hath seene the world: but let that
passe; the very all of all is: but sweet heart I do implore
secrecie, that the King would haue mee present the
Princesse (sweet chucke) with some delightfull ostentation,
or show, or pageant, or anticke, or fire-worke:
Now, vnderstanding that the Curate and your sweet self
are good at such eruptions, and sodaine breaking out of
myrth (as it were) I haue acquainted you withall, to
the end to craue your assistance

   Peda. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.
Sir Holofernes, as concerning some entertainment
of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to bee
rendred by our assistants the Kings command: and this
most gallant, illustrate and learned Gentleman, before
the Princesse: I say none so fit as to present the Nine
Worthies

   Curat. Where will you finde men worthy enough to
present them?
  Peda. Iosua, your selfe: my selfe, and this gallant gentleman
Iudas Machabeus; this Swaine (because of his
great limme or ioynt) shall passe Pompey the great, the
Page Hercules

   Brag. Pardon sir, error: He is not quantitie enough
for that Worthies thumb, hee is not so big as the end of
his Club

   Peda. Shall I haue audience: he shall present Hercules
in minoritie: his enter and exit shall bee strangling a
Snake; and I will haue an Apologie for that purpose

   Pag. An excellent deuice: so if any of the audience
hisse, you may cry, Well done Hercules, now thou crushest
the Snake; that is the way to make an offence gracious,
though few haue the grace to doe it

   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 Worthies, & let them dance the hey

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

Enter Ladies.

  Qu. Sweet hearts we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A Lady wal'd about with Diamonds: Look you, what I
haue from the louing King

   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 of paper
Writ on both sides the leafe, margent and all,
That he was faine to seale on Cupids name

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

   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, of such a merrie
nimble stirring spirit, she might a bin a Grandam ere
she died. And so may you: For a light heart liues long

   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 sent it? and what is it?
  Ros. I would you knew.
And if my face were but as faire as yours,
My Fauour were as great, be witnesse this.
Nay, I haue Verses too, I thanke Berowne,
The numbers true, and were the numbring too.
I were the fairest goddesse on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O he hath drawne my picture in his letter

   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 your face were full of Oes

   Qu. A Pox of that iest, and I beshrew all Shrowes:
But Katherine, what was sent to you
From faire Dumaine?
  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 compiled, profound simplicitie

   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 that I knew he were but in by th' weeke,
How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke,
And wait the season, and obserue the times,
And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes,
And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice,
And make him proud to make me proud that iests.
So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state,
That he shold be my foole, and I his fate

   Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht,
As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:
Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole,
And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole?
  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 dote:
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To proue by Wit, worth in simplicitie.
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 in arguments, you'll be surpriz'd.
Muster your Wits, stand in your owne defence,
Or hide your heads like Cowards, and flie hence

   Qu. Saint Dennis to S[aint]. 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:
When lo to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest,
The King and his companions: warely
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And ouer-heard, what you shall ouer-heare:
That by and by disguis'd they will be heere.
Their Herald is a pretty knauish Page:
That well by heart hath con'd his embassage,
Action and accent did they teach him there.
Thus must thou speake, and thus thy body beare.
And euer and anon they made a doubt,
Presence maiesticall would put him out:
For quoth the King, an Angell shalt thou see:
Yet feare not thou, but speake audaciously.
The Boy reply'd, An Angell is not euill:
I should haue fear'd her, had she beene a deuill.
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wagg by their praises bolder.
One rub'd his elboe thus, and fleer'd, and swore,
A better speech was neuer spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd via, we will doo't, come what will come.
The third he caper'd and cried, All goes well.
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and downe he fell:
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zelous laughter so profound,
That in this spleene ridiculous appeares,
To checke their folly passions solemne teares

   Que. 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 is to parlee, to court, and dance,
And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance,
Vnto his seuerall mistresse: which they'll know
By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow

   Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt:
For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt,
And not a man of them shall haue the grace
Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face.
Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare,
And then the King will court thee for his Deare:
Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine,
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues
Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues

   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 mocke for mocke is onely my intent.
Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall,
To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall.
Vpon the next occasion that we meete,
With Visages displayd to talke and greete

   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 no grace:
But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face

   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 be out.
Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne:
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne.
So shall we stay mocking entended game,
And they well mockt, depart away with shame.

Sound.

  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
That some plaine man recount their purposes.
Know what they would?
  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 grasse

   Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches
Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie,
The measure then of one is easlie told

   Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles,
And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell,
How many inches doth fill vp one mile?
  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 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 sunshine of your face,
That we (like sauages) may worship 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 shine,
(Those clouds remooued) vpon our waterie eyne

   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 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

   Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the Razors edge, inuisible:
Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene,
Aboue the sense of sence so sensible:
Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings,
Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things
  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?
  Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweete breathes
puft out

   Rosa. Wel-liking wits they haue, grosse, grosse, fat, fat

   Qu. O pouertie in wit, Kingly poore flout.
Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night?
Or euer but in vizards shew their faces:
This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite

   Rosa. They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping ripe for a good word

   Qu. Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite

   Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword:
No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute

   Ka. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
And trow you what he call'd me?
  Qu. Qualme perhaps

   Kat. Yes in good faith

   Qu. Go sicknesse as thou art

   Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps,
But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne

   Qu. And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me

   Kat. And Longauill was for my seruice borne

   Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree

   Boyet. Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare,
Immediately they will againe be heere
In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
They will digest this harsh indignitie

   Qu. Will they returne?
  Boy. They will they will, God knowes,
And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire

   Qu. How blow? how blow? Speake to bee vnderstood

   Boy. Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud:
Dismaskt, their damaske sweet commixture showne,
Are Angels vailing clouds, or Roses blowne

   Qu. Auant perplexitie: What shall we do,
If they returne in their owne shapes to wo?
  Rosa. Good Madam, if by me you'l be aduis'd.
Let's mocke them still as well knowne as disguis'd:
Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare,
Disguis'd like Muscouites in shapelesse geare:
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildely pen'd:
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our Tent to vs

   Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand

   Quee. Whip to our Tents, as Roes runnes ore Land.

Exeunt.

Enter the King and the rest.

  King. Faire sir, God saue you. Wher's the Princesse?
  Boy. Gone to her Tent.
Please it your Maiestie command me any seruice to her?
  King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word

   Boy. I will, and so will she, I know my Lord.
Enter.

  Ber. This fellow pickes vp wit as Pigeons pease,
And vtters it againe, when Ioue doth please.
He is Wits Pedler, and retailes his Wares,
At Wakes, and Wassels, Meetings, Markets, Faires.
And we that sell by grosse, the Lord doth know,
Haue not the grace to grace it with such show.
This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue.
Had he bin Adam, he had tempted Eue.
He can carue too, and lispe: Why this is he,
That kist away his hand in courtesie.
This is the Ape of Forme, Monsieur the nice,
That when he plaies at Tables, chides the Dice
In honorable tearmes: Nay he can sing
A meane most meanly, and in Vshering
Mend him who can: the Ladies call him sweete.
The staires as he treads on them kisse his feete.
This is the flower that smiles on euerie one,
To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone.
And consciences that wil not die in debt,
Pay him the dutie of honie-tongued Boyet

   King. A blister on his sweet tongue with my hart,
That put Armathoes Page out of his part.
Enter the Ladies.

  Ber. See where it comes. Behauiour what wer't thou,
Till this madman shew'd thee? And what art thou now?
  King. All haile sweet Madame, and faire time of day

   Qu. Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceiue

   King. Construe my speeches better, if you may

   Qu. Then wish me better, I wil giue you leaue

   King. We came to visit you, and purpose now
To leade you to our Court, vouchsafe it then

   Qu. This field shal hold me, and so hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delights in periur'd men

   King. Rebuke me not for that which you prouoke:
The vertue of your eie must breake my oth

   Q. You nickname vertue: vice you should haue spoke:
For vertues office neuer breakes men troth.
Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
As the vnsallied Lilly, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yeeld to be your houses guest:
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie

   Kin. O you haue liu'd in desolation heere,
Vnseene, vnuisited, much to our shame

   Qu. Not so my Lord, it is not so I sweare,
We haue had pastimes heere, and pleasant game,
A messe of Russians left vs but of late

   Kin. How Madam? Russians?
  Qu. I in truth, my Lord.
Trim gallants, full of Courtship and of state

   Rosa. Madam speake true. It is not so my Lord:
My Ladie (to the manner of the daies)
In curtesie giues vndeseruing praise.
We foure indeed confronted were with foure
In Russia habit: Heere they stayed an houre,
And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord)
They did not blesse vs with one happy word.
I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke,
When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke

   Ber. This iest is drie to me. Gentle sweete,
Your wits makes wise things foolish when we greete
With eies best seeing, heauens fierie eie:
By light we loose light; your capacitie
Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore,
Wise things seeme foolish, and rich things but poore

   Ros. This proues you wise and rich: for in my eie
  Ber. I am a foole, and full of pouertie

   Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue

   Ber. O, I am yours, and all that I possesse

   Ros. All the foole mine

   Ber. I cannot giue you lesse

   Ros. Which of the Vizards what it that you wore?
  Ber. Where? when? What Vizard?
Why demand you this?
  Ros. There, then, that vizard, that superfluous case,
That hid the worse, and shew'd the better face

   Kin. We are discried,
They'l mocke vs now downeright

   Du. Let vs confesse, and turne it to a iest

   Que. Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes
sadde?
  Rosa. Helpe hold his browes, hee'l sound: why looke
you pale?
Sea-sicke I thinke comming from Muscouie

   Ber. Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury.
Can any face of brasse hold longer out?
Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me,
Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout.
Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance.
Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,
Nor neuer more in Russian habit waite.
O! neuer will I trust to speeches pen'd,
Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue.
Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend,
Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue,
Taffata phrases, silken tearmes precise,
Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection;
Figures pedanticall, these summer flies,
Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forsweare them, and I heere protest,
By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows)
Henceforth my woing minde shall be exprest
In russet yeas, and honest kersie noes.
And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law,
My loue to thee is sound, sans cracke or flaw,
  Rosa. Sans, sans, I pray you

   Ber. Yet I haue a tricke
Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke.
Ile leaue it by degrees: soft, let vs see,
Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three,
They are infected, in their hearts it lies:
They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
These Lords are visited, you are not free:
For the Lords tokens on you do I see

   Qu. No, they are free that gaue these tokens to vs

   Ber. Our states are forfeit, seeke not to vndo vs

   Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue

   Ber. Peace, for I will not haue to do with you

   Ros. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend

   Ber. Speake for your selues, my wit is at an end

   King. Teach vs sweete Madame, for our rude transgression,
some faire excuse

   Qu. The fairest is confession.
Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd?
  Kin. Madam, I was

   Qu. And were you well aduis'd?
  Kin. I was faire Madam

   Qu. When you then were heere,
What did you whisper in your Ladies eare?
  King. That more then all the world I did respect her
  Qu. When shee shall challenge this, you will reiect
her

   King. Vpon mine Honor no

   Qu. Peace, peace, forbeare:
Your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare

   King. Despise me when I breake this oath of mine

   Qu. I will, and therefore keepe it. Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your eare?
  Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me deare
As precious eye-sight, and did value me
Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer,
That he would Wed me, or else die my Louer

   Qu. God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord
Most honorably doth vphold his word

   King. What meane you Madame?
By my life, my troth
I neuer swore this Ladie such an oth

   Ros. By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine,
You gaue me this: But take it sir againe

   King. My faith and this, the Princesse I did giue,
I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue

   Qu. Pardon me sir, this Iewell did she weare.
And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare.
What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe?
  Ber. Neither of either, I remit both twaine.
I see the tricke on't: Heere was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas Comedie.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Zanie,
Some mumble-newes, some trencher-knight, som Dick
That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's dispos'd;
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The Ladies did change Fauours; and then we
Following the signes, woo'd but the signe of she.
Now to our periurie, to adde more terror,
We are againe forsworne in will and error.
Much vpon this tis: and might not you
Forestall our sport, to make vs thus vntrue?
Do not you know my Ladies foot by'th squier?
And laugh vpon the apple of her eie?
And stand betweene her backe sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, iesting merrilie?
You put our Page out: go, you are alowd.
Die when you will, a smocke shall be your shrowd.
You leere vpon me, do you? There's an eie
Wounds like a Leaden sword

   Boy. Full merrily hath this braue manager, this carreere
bene run

   Ber. Loe, he is tilting straight. Peace, I haue don.
Enter Clowne.

Welcome pure wit, thou part'st a faire fray

   Clo. O Lord sir, they would kno,
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no

   Ber. What, are there but three?
  Clo. No sir, but it is vara fine,
For euerie one pursents three

   Ber. And three times thrice is nine

   Clo. Not so sir, vnder correction sir, I hope it is not so.
You cannot beg vs sir, I can assure you sir, we know what
we know: I hope sir three times thrice sir

   Ber. Is not nine

   Clo. Vnder correction sir, wee know where-vntill it
doth amount

   Ber. By Ioue, I alwaies tooke three threes for nine

   Clow. O Lord sir, it were pittie you should get your
liuing by reckning sir

   Ber. How much is it?
  Clo. O Lord sir, the parties themselues, the actors sir
will shew where-vntill it doth amount: for mine owne
part, I am (as they say, but to perfect one man in one
poore man) Pompion the great sir

   Ber. Art thou one of the Worthies?
  Clo. It pleased them to thinke me worthie of Pompey
the great: for mine owne part, I know not the degree of
the Worthie, but I am to stand for him

   Ber. Go, bid them prepare.
Enter.

  Clo. We will turne it finely off sir, we wil take some
care

   King. Berowne, they will shame vs:
Let them not approach

   Ber. We are shame-proofe my Lord: and 'tis some
policie, to haue one shew worse then the Kings and his
companie

   Kin. I say they shall not come

   Qu. Nay my good Lord, let me ore-rule you now;
That sport best pleases, that doth least know how.
Where Zeale striues to content, and the contents
Dies in the Zeale of that which it presents:
Their forme confounded, makes most forme in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth

   Ber. A right description of our sport my Lord.
Enter Braggart.

  Brag. Annointed, I implore so much expence of thy
royall sweet breath, as will vtter a brace of words

   Qu. Doth this man serue God?
  Ber. Why aske you?
  Qu. He speak's not like a man of God's making

   Brag. That's all one my faire sweet honie Monarch:
For I protest, the Schoolmaster is exceeding fantasticall:
Too too vaine, too too vaine. But we wil put it (as they
say) to Fortuna delaguar, I wish you the peace of minde
most royall cupplement

   King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies;
He presents Hector of Troy, the Swaine Pompey y great,
the Parish Curate Alexander, Armadoes Page Hercules,
the Pedant Iudas Machabeus: and if these foure Worthies
in their first shew thriue, these foure will change
habites, and present the other fiue

   Ber. There is fiue in the first shew

   Kin. You are deceiued, tis not so

   Ber. The Pedant, the Braggart, the Hedge-Priest, the
Foole, and the Boy,
Abate throw at Novum, and the whole world againe,
Cannot pricke out fiue such, take each one in's vaine

   Kin. The ship is vnder saile, and here she coms amain.
Enter Pompey.

  Clo. I Pompey am

   Ber. You lie, you are not he

   Clo. I Pompey am

   Boy. With Libbards head on knee

   Ber. Well said old mocker,
I must needs be friends with thee

   Clo. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big

   Du. The great

   Clo. It is great sir: Pompey surnam'd the great:
That oft in field, with Targe and Shield,
did make my foe to sweat:
And trauailing along this coast, I heere am come by chance,
And lay my Armes before the legs of this sweet Lasse of
France.
If your Ladiship would say thankes Pompey, I had done

   La. Great thankes great Pompey

   Clo. Tis not so much worth: but I hope I was perfect.
I made a little fault in great

   Ber. My hat to a halfe-penie, Pompey prooues the
best Worthie.
Enter Curate for Alexander.

  Curat. When in the world I liu'd, I was the worldes Commander:
By East, West, North, & South, I spred my conquering might
My Scutcheon plaine declares that I am Alisander

   Boiet. Your nose saies no, you are not:
For it stands too right

   Ber. Your nose smells no, in this most tender smelling
Knight

   Qu. The Conqueror is dismaid:
Proceede good Alexander

   Cur. When in the world I liued, I was the worldes Commander

   Boiet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so Alisander

   Ber. Pompey the great

   Clo. your seruant and Costard

   Ber. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alisander
  Clo. O sir, you haue ouerthrowne Alisander the conqueror:
you will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth for
this: your Lion that holds his Pollax sitting on a close
stoole, will be giuen to Aiax. He will be the ninth worthie.
A Conqueror, and affraid to speake? Runne away
for shame Alisander. There an't shall please you: a foolish
milde man, an honest man, looke you, & soon dasht.
He is a maruellous good neighbour insooth, and a verie
good Bowler: but for Alisander, alas you see, how 'tis a
little ore-parted. But there are Worthies a comming,
will speake their minde in some other sort.

Exit Cu.

  Qu. Stand aside good Pompey.
Enter Pedant for Iudas, and the Boy for Hercules.

  Ped. Great Hercules is presented by this Impe,
Whose Club kil'd Cerberus that three-headed Canus,
And when he was a babe, a childe, a shrimpe,
Thus did he strangle Serpents in his Manus:
Quoniam, he seemeth in minoritie,
Ergo, I come with this Apologie.
Keepe some state in thy exit, and vanish.

Exit Boy

  Ped. Iudas I am

   Dum. A Iudas?
  Ped. Not Iscariot sir.
Iudas I am, ycliped Machabeus

   Dum. Iudas Machabeus clipt, is plaine Iudas

   Ber. A kissing traitor. How art thou prou'd Iudas?
  Ped. Iudas I am

   Dum. The more shame for you Iudas

   Ped. What meane you sir?
  Boi. To make Iudas hang himselfe

   Ped. Begin sir, you are my elder

   Ber. Well follow'd, Iudas was hang'd on an Elder

   Ped. I will not be put out of countenance

   Ber. Because thou hast no face

   Ped. What is this?
  Boi. A Citterne head

   Dum. The head of a bodkin

   Ber. A deaths face in a ring

   Lon. The face of an old Roman coine, scarce seene

   Boi. The pummell of Cæsars Faulchion

   Dum. The caru'd-bone face on a Flaske

   Ber. S[aint]. Georges halfe cheeke in a brooch

   Dum. I, and in a brooch of Lead

   Ber. I, and worne in the cap of a Tooth-drawer.
And now forward, for we haue put thee in countenance
  Ped. You haue put me out of countenance

   Ber. False, we haue giuen thee faces

   Ped. But you haue out-fac'd them all

   Ber. And thou wer't a Lion, we would do so

   Boy. Therefore as he is, an Asse, let him go:
And so adieu sweet Iude. Nay, why dost thou stay?
  Dum. For the latter end of his name

   Ber. For the Asse to the Iude: giue it him. Iudas away

   Ped. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble

   Boy. A light for monsieur Iudas, it growes darke, he
may stumble

   Que. Alas poore Machabeus, how hath hee beene
baited.
Enter Braggart.

  Ber. Hide thy head Achilles, heere comes Hector in
Armes

   Dum. Though my mockes come home by me, I will
now be merrie

   King. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this

   Boi. But is this Hector?
  Kin. I thinke Hector was not so cleane timber'd

   Lon. His legge is too big for Hector

   Dum. More Calfe certaine

   Boi. No, he is best indued in the small

   Ber. This cannot be Hector

   Dum. He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces

   Brag. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty,
gaue Hector a gift

   Dum. A gilt Nutmegge

   Ber. A Lemmon

   Lon. Stucke with Cloues

   Dum. No clouen

   Brag. The Armipotent Mars of Launces the almighty,
Gaue Hector a gift, the heire of Illion;
A man so breathed, that certaine he would fight: yea
From morne till night, out of his Pauillion.
I am that Flower

   Dum. That Mint

   Long. That Cullambine

   Brag. Sweet Lord Longauill reine thy tongue

   Lon. I must rather giue it the reine: for it runnes against
Hector

   Dum. I, and Hector's a Grey-hound

   Brag. The sweet War-man is dead and rotten,
Sweet chuckes, beat not the bones of the buried:
But I will forward with my deuice;
Sweete Royaltie bestow on me the sence of hearing.

Berowne steppes forth.

  Qu. Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted

   Brag. i do adore thy sweet Graces slipper

   Boy. Loues her by the foot

   Dum. He may not by the yard

   Brag. This Hector farre surmounted Hanniball.
The partie is gone

   Clo. Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two moneths
on her way

   Brag. What meanest thou?
  Clo. Faith vnlesse you play the honest Troyan, the
poore Wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags
in her belly alreadie: tis yours

   Brag. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates?
Thou shalt die

   Clo. Then shall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta that
is quicke by him, and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead by
him

   Dum. Most rare Pompey

   Boi. Renowned Pompey

   Ber. Greater then great, great, great, great Pompey:
Pompey the huge

   Dum. Hector trembles

   Ber. Pompey is moued, more Atees more Atees stirre
them, or stirre them on

   Dum. Hector will challenge him

   Ber. I, if a'haue no more mans blood in's belly, then
will sup a Flea

   Brag. By the North-pole I do challenge thee

   Clo. I wil not fight with a pole like a Northern man;
Ile slash, Ile do it by the sword: I pray you let mee borrow
my Armes againe

   Dum. Roome for the incensed Worthies

   Clo. Ile do it in my shirt

   Dum. Most resolute Pompey

   Page. Master, let me take you a button hole lower:
Do you not see Pompey is vncasing for the combat: what
meane you? you will lose your reputation

   Brag. Gentlemen and Souldiers pardon me, I will
not combat in my shirt

   Du. You may not denie it, Pompey hath made the
challenge

   Brag. Sweet bloods, I both may, and will

   Ber. What reason haue you for't?
  Brag. The naked truth of it is, I haue no shirt,
I go woolward for penance

   Boy. True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want
of Linnen: since when, Ile be sworne he wore none, but
a dishclout of Iaquenettas, and that hee weares next his
heart for a fauour.
Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.

  Mar. God saue you Madame

   Qu. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruptest
our merriment

   Marc. I am sorrie Madam, for the newes I bring is
heauie in my tongue. The King your father
  Qu. Dead for my life

   Mar. Euen so: My tale is told

   Ber. Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud

   Brag. For mine owne part, I breath free breath: I
haue seene the day of wrong, through the little hole of
discretion, and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.

Exeunt. Worthies

  Kin. How fare's your Maiestie?
  Qu. Boyet prepare, I will away to night

   Kin. Madame not so, I do beseech you stay

   Qu. Prepare I say. I thanke you gracious Lords
For all your faire endeuours and entreats:
Out of a new sad-soule, that you vouchsafe,
In your rich wisedome to excuse, or hide,
The liberall opposition of our spirits,
If ouer-boldly we haue borne our selues,
In the conuerse of breath (your gentlenesse
Was guiltie of it.) Farewell worthie Lord:
A heauie heart beares not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so, comming so short of thankes,
For my great suite, so easily obtain'd

   Kin. The extreme parts of time, extremelie formes
All causes to the purpose of his speed:
And often at his verie loose decides
That, which long processe could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progenie
Forbid the smiling curtesie of Loue:
The holy suite which faine it would conuince,
Yet since loues argument was first on foote,
Let not the cloud of sorrow iustle it
From what it purpos'd: since to waile friends lost,
Is not by much so wholsome profitable,
As to reioyce at friends but newly found

   Qu. I vnderstand you not, my greefes are double

   Ber. Honest plain words, best pierce the ears of griefe
And by these badges vnderstand the King,
For your faire sakes haue we neglected time,
Plaid foule play with our oaths: your beautie Ladies
Hath much deformed vs, fashioning our humors
Euen to the opposed end of our intents.
And what in vs hath seem'd ridiculous:
As Loue is full of vnbefitting straines,
All wanton as a childe, skipping and vaine.
Form'd by the eie, and therefore like the eie.
Full of straying shapes, of habits, and of formes
Varying in subiects as the eie doth roule,
To euerie varied obiect in his glance:
Which partie-coated presence of loose loue
Put on by vs, if in your heauenly eies,
Haue misbecom'd our oathes and grauities.
Those heauenlie eies that looke into these faults,
Suggested vs to make: therefore Ladies
Our loue being yours, the error that Loue makes
Is likewise yours. We to our selues proue false,
By being once false, for euer to be true
To those that make vs both, faire Ladies you.
And euen that falshood in it selfe a sinne,
Thus purifies it selfe, and turnes to grace

   Qu. We haue receiu'd your Letters, full of Loue:
Your Fauours, the Ambassadors of Loue.
And in our maiden counsaile rated them,
At courtship, pleasant iest, and curtesie,
As bumbast and as lining to the time:
But more deuout then these are our respects
Haue we not bene, and therefore met your loues
In their owne fashion, like a merriment

   Du. Our letters Madam, shew'd much more then iest

   Lon. So did our lookes

   Rosa. We did not coat them so

   Kin. Now at the latest minute of the houre,
Grant vs your loues

   Qu. A time me thinkes too short,
To make a world-without-end bargaine in:
No, no my Lord, your Grace is periur'd much,
Full of deare guiltinesse, and therefore this:
If for my Loue (as there is no such cause)
You will do ought, this shall you do for me.
Your oth I will not trust: but go with speed
To some forlorne and naked Hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world:
There stay, vntill the twelue Celestiall Signes
Haue brought about their annuall reckoning.
If this austere insociable life,
Change not your offer made in heate of blood:
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudie blossomes of your Loue,
But that it beare this triall, and last loue:
Then at the expiration of the yeare,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
And by this Virgin palme, now kissing thine,
I will be thine: and till that instant shut
My wofull selfe vp in a mourning house,
Raining the teares of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my Fathers death.
If this thou do denie, let our hands part,
Neither intitled in the others hart

   Kin. If this, or more then this, I would denie,
To flatter vp these powers of mine with rest,
The sodaine hand of death close vp mine eie.
Hence euer then, my heart is in thy brest

   Ber. And what to me my Loue? and what to me?
  Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd.
You are attaint with faults and periurie:
Therefore if you my fauor meane to get,
A tweluemonth shall you spend, and neuer rest,
But seeke the wearie beds of people sicke

   Du. But what to me my loue? but what to me?
  Kat. A wife? a beard, faire health, and honestie,
With three-fold loue, I wish you all these three

   Du. O shall I say, I thanke you gentle wife?
  Kat. Not so my Lord, a tweluemonth and a day,
Ile marke no words that smoothfac'd wooers say.
Come when the King doth to my Ladie come:
Then if I haue much loue, Ile giue you some

   Dum. Ile serue thee true and faithfully till then

   Kath. Yet sweare not, least ye be forsworne agen

   Lon. What saies Maria?
  Mari. At the tweluemonths end,
Ile change my blacke Gowne, for a faithfull friend

   Lon. Ile stay with patience: but the time is long

   Mari. The liker you, few taller are so yong

   Ber. Studies my Ladie? Mistresse, looke on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eie:
What humble suite attends thy answer there,
Impose some seruice on me for my loue

   Ros. Oft haue I heard of you my Lord Berowne,
Before I saw you: and the worlds large tongue
Proclaimes you for a man repleate with mockes,
Full of comparisons, and wounding floutes:
Which you on all estates will execute,
That lie within the mercie of your wit.
To weed this Wormewood from your fruitfull braine,
And therewithall to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won:
You shall this tweluemonth terme from day to day,
Visit the speechlesse sicke, and still conuerse
With groaning wretches: and your taske shall be,
With all the fierce endeuour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile

   Ber. To moue wilde laughter in the throate of death?
It cannot be, it is impossible.
Mirth cannot moue a soule in agonie

   Ros. Why that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers giue to fooles:
A iests prosperitie, lies in the eare
Of him that heares it, neuer in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly eares,
Deaft with the clamors of their owne deare grones,
Will heare your idle scornes; continue then,
And I will haue you, and that fault withall.
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shal finde you emptie of that fault,
Right ioyfull of your reformation

   Ber. A tweluemonth? Well: befall what will befall,
Ile iest a tweluemonth in an Hospitall

   Qu. I sweet my Lord, and so I take my leaue

   King. No Madam, we will bring you on your way

   Ber. Our woing doth not end like an old Play:
Iacke hath not Gill: these Ladies courtesie
Might wel haue made our sport a Comedie

   Kin. Come sir, it wants a tweluemonth and a day,
And then 'twil end

   Ber. That's too long for a play.
Enter Braggart.

  Brag. Sweet Maiesty vouchsafe me

   Qu. Was not that Hector?
  Dum. The worthie Knight of Troy

   Brag. I wil kisse thy royal finger, and take leaue.
I am a Votarie, I haue vow'd to Iaquenetta to holde the
Plough for her sweet loue three yeares. But most esteemed
greatnesse, wil you heare the Dialogue that the two
Learned men haue compiled, in praise of the Owle and
the Cuckow? It should haue followed in the end of our
shew

   Kin. Call them forth quickely, we will do so

   Brag. Holla, Approach.
Enter all.

This side is Hiems, Winter.
This Ver, the Spring: the one maintained by the Owle,
Th' other by the Cuckow.
Ver, begin.

The Song.

When Dasies pied, and Violets blew,
And Cuckow-buds of yellow hew:
And Ladie-smockes all siluer white,
Do paint the Medowes with delight.
The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
Mockes married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.
When Shepheards pipe on Oaten strawes,
And merrie Larkes are Ploughmens clockes:
When Turtles tread, and Rookes and Dawes,
And Maidens bleach their summer smockes:
The Cuckow then on euerie tree
Mockes married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare

   Winter. When Isicles hang by the wall,
And Dicke the Shepheard blowes his naile;
And Tom beares Logges into the hall,
And Milke comes frozen home in paile:
When blood is nipt, and waies be fowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle
Tuwhit towho.
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.
When all aloud the winde doth blow,
And coffing drownes the Parsons saw:
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marrians nose lookes red and raw:
When roasted Crabs hisse in the bowle,
Then nightly sings the staring Owle,
Tuwhit towho:
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot

   Brag. The Words of Mercurie,
Are harsh after the songs of Apollo:
You that way; we this way.

Exeunt. omnes.

FINIS. Loues Labour's lost.


A Midsommer Nights Dreame

Actus primus.

Enter Theseus, Hippolita, with others.

  Theseus. Now faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre
Drawes on apace: foure happy daies bring in
Another Moon: but oh, me thinkes, how slow
This old Moon wanes; She lingers my desires
Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager,
Long withering out a yong mans reuennew

   Hip. Foure daies wil quickly steep the[m]selues in nights
Foure nights wil quickly dreame away the time:
And then the Moone, like to a siluer bow,
Now bent in heauen, shal behold the night
Of our solemnities

   The. Go Philostrate,
Stirre vp the Athenian youth to merriments,
Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth,
Turne melancholy forth to Funerals:
The pale companion is not for our pompe,
Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries:
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pompe, with triumph, and with reuelling.
Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius.

  Ege. Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke

   The. Thanks good Egeus: what's the news with thee?
  Ege. Full of vexation, come I, with complaint
Against my childe, my daughter Hermia.

Stand forth Demetrius.

My Noble Lord,
This man hath my consent to marrie her.

Stand forth Lysander.

And my gracious Duke,
This man hath bewitch'd the bosome of my childe:
Thou, thou Lysander, thou hast giuen her rimes,
And interchang'd loue-tokens with my childe:
Thou hast by Moone-light at her window sung,
With faining voice, verses of faining loue,
And stolne the impression of her fantasie,
With bracelets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceits,
Knackes, trifles, Nose-gaies, sweet meats (messengers
Of strong preuailment in vnhardned youth)
With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughters heart,
Turn'd her obedience (which is due to me)
To stubborne harshnesse. And my gracious Duke,
Be it so she will not heere before your Grace,
Consent to marrie with Demetrius,
I beg the ancient priuiledge of Athens;
As she is mine, I may dispose of her;
Which shall be either to this Gentleman,
Or to her death, according to our Law,
Immediately prouided in that case

   The. What say you Hermia? be aduis'd faire Maide,
To you your Father should be as a God;
One that compos'd your beauties; yea and one
To whom you are but as a forme in waxe
By him imprinted: and within his power,
To leaue the figure, or disfigure it:
Demetrius is a worthy Gentleman

   Her. So is Lysander

   The. In himselfe he is.
But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voyce,
The other must be held the worthier

   Her. I would my father look'd but with my eyes

   The. Rather your eies must with his iudgment looke

   Her. I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concerne my modestie
In such a presence heere to pleade my thoughts:
But I beseech your Grace, that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius

   The. Either to dye the death, or to abiure
For euer the society of men.
Therefore faire Hermia question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether (if you yeeld not to your fathers choice)
You can endure the liuerie of a Nunne,
For aye to be in shady Cloister mew'd,
To liue a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymnes to the cold fruitlesse Moone,
Thrice blessed they that master so their blood,
To vndergo such maiden pilgrimage,
But earthlier happie is the Rose distil'd,
Then that which withering on the virgin thorne,
Growes, liues, and dies, in single blessednesse

   Her. So will I grow, so liue, so die my Lord,
Ere I will yeeld my virgin Patent vp
Vnto his Lordship, whose vnwished yoake,
My soule consents not to giue soueraignty

   The. Take time to pause, and by the next new Moon
The sealing day betwixt my loue and me,
For euerlasting bond of fellowship:
Vpon that day either prepare to dye,
For disobedience to your fathers will,
Or else to wed Demetrius as hee would,
Or on Dianaes Altar to protest
For aie, austerity, and single life

   Dem. Relent sweet Hermia, and Lysander, yeelde
Thy crazed title to my certaine right

   Lys. You haue her fathers loue, Demetrius:
Let me haue Hermiaes: do you marry him

   Egeus. Scornfull Lysander, true, he hath my Loue;
And what is mine, my loue shall render him.
And she is mine, and all my right of her,
I do estate vnto Demetrius

   Lys. I am my Lord, as well deriu'd as he,
As well possest: my loue is more then his:
My fortunes euery way as fairely ranck'd
(If not with vantage) as Demetrius:
And (which is more then all these boasts can be)
I am belou'd of beauteous Hermia.
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, Ile auouch it to his head,
Made loue to Nedars daughter, Helena,
And won her soule: and she (sweet Ladie) dotes,
Deuoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry,
Vpon this spotted and inconstant man

   The. I must confesse, that I haue heard so much,
And with Demetrius thought to haue spoke thereof:
But being ouer-full of selfe-affaires,
My minde did lose it. But Demetrius come,
And come Egeus, you shall go with me,
I haue some priuate schooling for you both.
For you faire Hermia, looke you arme your selfe,
To fit your fancies to your Fathers will;
Or else the Law of Athens yeelds you vp
(Which by no meanes we may extenuate)
To death, or to a vow of single life.
Come my Hippolita, what cheare my loue?
Demetrius and Egeus go along:
I must imploy you in some businesse
Against our nuptiall, and conferre with you
Of something, neerely that concernes your selues

   Ege. With dutie and desire we follow you.

Exeunt.

Manet Lysander and Hermia.

  Lys. How now my loue? Why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the Roses there do fade so fast?
  Her. Belike for want of raine, which I could well
Beteeme them, from the tempest of mine eyes

   Lys. For ought that euer I could reade,
Could euer heare by tale or historie,
The course of true loue neuer did run smooth,
But either it was different in blood

   Her. O crosse! too high to be enthral'd to loue

   Lys. Or else misgraffed, in respect of yeares

   Her. O spight! too old to be ingag'd to yong

   Lys. Or else it stood vpon the choise of merit

   Her. O hell! to choose loue by anothers eie

   Lys. Or if there were a simpathie in choise,
Warre, death, or sicknesse, did lay siege to it;
Making it momentarie, as a sound:
Swift as a shadow, short as any dreame,
Briefe as the lightning in the collied night,
That (in a spleene) vnfolds both heauen and earth;
And ere a man hath power to say, behold,
The iawes of darkness do deuoure it vp:
So quicke bright things come to confusion

   Her. If then true Louers haue beene euer crost,
It stands as an edict in destinie:
Then let vs teach our triall patience,
Because it is a customarie crosse,
As due to loue, as thoughts, and dreames, and sighes,
Wishes and teares; poore Fancies followers

   Lys. A good perswasion; therefore heare me Hermia,
I haue a Widdow Aunt, a dowager,
Of great reuennew, and she hath no childe,
From Athens is her house remou'd seuen leagues,
And she respects me, as her onely sonne:
There gentle Hermia, may I marrie thee,
And to that place, the sharpe Athenian Law
Cannot pursue vs. If thou lou'st me, then
Steale forth thy Fathers house to morrow night:
And in the wood, a league without the towne,
(Where I did meete thee once with Helena.
To do obseruance for a morne of May)
There will I stay for thee

   Her. My good Lysander,
I sweare to thee, by Cupids strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicitie of Venus Doues,
By that which knitteth soules, and prospers loue,
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queene,
When the false Troyan vnder saile was seene,
By all the vowes that euer men haue broke,
(In number more then euer women spoke)
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To morrow truly will I meete with thee

   Lys. Keepe promise loue: looke here comes Helena.
Enter Helena.

  Her. God speede faire Helena, whither away?
  Hel. Cal you me faire? that faire againe vnsay,
Demetrius loues you faire: O happie faire!
Your eyes are loadstarres, and your tongues sweete ayre
More tuneable then Larke to shepheards eare,
When wheate is greene, when hauthorne buds appeare,
Sicknesse is catching: O were fauor so,
Your words I catch, faire Hermia ere I go,
My eare should catch your voice, my eye, your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongues sweete melodie,
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest Ile giue to be to you translated.
O teach me how you looke, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius hart

   Her. I frowne vpon him, yet he loues me still

   Hel. O that your frownes would teach my smiles
such skil

   Her. I giue him curses, yet he giues me loue

   Hel. O that my prayers could such affection mooue

   Her. The more I hate, the more he followes me

   Hel. The more I loue, the more he hateth me

   Her. His folly Helena is none of mine

   Hel. None but your beauty, wold that fault wer mine
  Her. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face,
Lysander and my selfe will flie this place.
Before the time I did Lysander see,
Seem'd Athens like a Paradise to mee.
O then, what graces in my Loue do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heauen into hell

   Lys. Helen, to you our mindes we will vnfold,
To morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
Her siluer visage, in the watry glasse,
Decking with liquid pearle, the bladed grasse
(A time that Louers flights doth still conceale)
Through Athens gates, haue we deuis'd to steale

   Her. And in the wood, where often you and I,
Vpon faint Primrose beds, were wont to lye,
Emptying our bosomes, of their counsell sweld:
There my Lysander, and my selfe shall meete,
And thence from Athens turne away our eyes
To seeke new friends and strange companions,
Farwell sweet play-fellow, pray thou for vs,
And good lucke grant thee thy Demetrius.
Keepe word Lysander we must starue our sight,
From louers foode, till morrow deepe midnight.

Exit Hermia.

  Lys. I will my Hermia. Helena adieu,
As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you.

Exit Lysander.

  Hele. How happy some, ore othersome can be?
Through Athens I am thought as faire as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinkes not so:
He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
And as hee erres, doting on Hermias eyes;
So I, admiring of his qualities:
Things base and vilde, holding no quantity,
Loue can transpose to forme and dignity,
Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blinde.
Nor hath loues minde of any iudgement taste:
Wings and no eyes, figure, vnheedy haste.
And therefore is Loue said to be a childe,
Because in choise he is often beguil'd,
As waggish boyes in game themselues forsweare;
So the boy Loue is periur'd euery where.
For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermias eyne,
He hail'd downe oathes that he was onely mine.
And when this Haile some heat from Hermia felt,
So he dissolu'd, and showres of oathes did melt,
I will goe tell him of faire Hermias flight:
Then to the wood will he, to morrow night
Pursue her; and for his intelligence,
If I haue thankes, it is a deere expence:
But heerein meane I to enrich my paine,
To haue his sight thither, and backe againe.
Enter.

Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Ioyner, Bottome the Weauer,
Flute
the bellowes-mender, Snout the Tinker, and Starueling the Taylor.

  Quin. Is all our company heere?
  Bot. You were best to call them generally, man by
man according to the scrip

   Qui. Here is the scrowle of euery mans name, which
is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our Enterlude
before the Duke and the Dutches, on his wedding
day at night

   Bot. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats
on: then read the names of the Actors: and so grow on
to a point

   Quin. Marry our play is the most lamentable comedy,
and most cruell death of Pyramus and Thisbie

   Bot. A very good peece of worke I assure you, and a
merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your Actors
by the scrowle. Masters spread your selues

   Quince. Answere as I call you. Nick Bottome the
Weauer

   Bottome. Ready; name what part I am for, and
proceed

   Quince. You Nicke Bottome are set downe for Pyramus

   Bot. What is Pyramus, a louer, or a tyrant?
  Quin. A Louer that kills himselfe most gallantly for
loue

   Bot. That will aske some teares in the true performing
of it: if I do it, let the audience looke to their eies:
I will mooue stormes; I will condole in some measure.
To the rest yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I could
play Ercles rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to make all
split the raging Rocks; and shiuering shocks shall break
the locks of prison gates, and Phibbus carre shall shine
from farre, and make and marre the foolish Fates. This
was lofty. Now name the rest of the Players. This
is Ercles vaine, a tyrants vaine: a louer is more condoling

   Quin. Francis Flute the Bellowes-mender

   Flu. Heere Peter Quince

   Quin. You must take Thisbie on you

   Flut. What is Thisbie, a wandring Knight?
  Quin. It is the Lady that Pyramus must loue

   Flut. Nay faith, let not mee play a woman, I haue a
beard comming

   Qui. That's all one, you shall play it in a Maske, and
you may speake as small as you will

   Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbie too:
Ile speake in a monstrous little voyce; Thisne, Thisne, ah
Pyramus my louer deare, thy Thisbie deare, and Lady
deare

   Quin. No no, you must play Pyramus, and Flute, you
Thisby

   Bot. Well, proceed

   Qu. Robin Starueling the Taylor

   Star. Heere Peter Quince

   Quince. Robin Starueling, you must play Thisbies
mother?
Tom Snowt, the Tinker

   Snowt. Heere Peter Quince

   Quin. you, Pyramus father; my self, Thisbies father;
Snugge the Ioyner, you the Lyons part: and I hope there
is a play fitted

   Snug. Haue you the Lions part written? pray you if
be, giue it me, for I am slow of studie

   Quin. You may doe it extemporie, for it is nothing
but roaring

   Bot. Let mee play the Lyon too, I will roare that I
will doe any mans heart good to heare me. I will roare,
that I will make the Duke say, Let him roare againe, let
him roare againe

   Quin. If you should do it too terribly, you would
fright the Dutchesse and the Ladies, that they would
shrike, and that were enough to hang us all

   All. That would hang vs euery mothers sonne

   Bottome. I graunt you friends, if that you should
fright the Ladies out of their Wittes, they would
haue no more discretion but to hang vs: but I will aggrauate
my voyce so, that I will roare you as gently as
any sucking Doue; I will roare and 'twere any Nightingale

   Quin. You can play no part but Piramus, for Piramus
is a sweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one shall see in
a summers day; a most louely Gentleman-like man, therfore
you must needs play Piramus

   Bot. Well, I will vndertake it. What beard were I
best to play it in?
  Quin. Why, what you will

   Bot. I will discharge it, in either your straw-colour
beard, your orange tawnie beard, your purple in graine
beard, or your French-crowne colour'd beard, your perfect
yellow

   Quin. Some of your French Crownes haue no haire
at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But masters here
are your parts, and I am to intreat you, request you, and
desire you, to con them by too morrow night: and meet
me in the palace wood, a mile without the Towne, by
Moone-light, there we will rehearse: for if we meete in
the Citie, we shalbe dog'd with company, and our deuises
knowne. In the meane time, I wil draw a bil of properties,
such as our play wants. I pray you faile me not

   Bottom. We will meete, and there we may rehearse
more obscenely and couragiously. Take paines, be perfect,
adieu

   Quin. At the Dukes oake we meete

   Bot. Enough, hold or cut bow-strings.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter a Fairie at one dore, and Robin goodfellow at another.

  Rob. How now spirit, whether wander you?
  Fai. Ouer hil, ouer dale, through bush, through briar,
Ouer parke, ouer pale, through flood, through fire,
I do wander euerie where, swifter then y Moons sphere;
And I serue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs vpon the green.
The Cowslips tall, her pensioners bee,
In their gold coats, spots you see,
Those be Rubies, Fairie fauors,
In those freckles, liue their sauors,
I must go seeke some dew drops heere,
And hang a pearle in euery cowslips eare.
Farewell thou Lob of spirits, Ile be gon,
Our Queene and all her Elues come heere anon

   Rob. The King doth keepe his Reuels here to night,
Take heed the Queene come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A louely boy stolne from an Indian King,
She neuer had so sweet a changeling,
And iealous Oberon would haue the childe
Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrests wilde.
But she (perforce) with-holds the loued boy,
Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her ioy.
And now they neuer meete in groue, or greene,
By fountaine cleere, or spangled star-light sheene,
But they do square, that all their Elues for feare
Creepe into Acorne cups and hide them there

   Fai. Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrew'd and knauish spirit
Cal'd Robin Good-fellow. Are you not hee,
That frights the maidens of the Villagree,
Skim milke, and sometimes labour in the querne,
And bootlesse make the breathlesse huswife cherne,
And sometime make the drinke to beare no barme,
Misleade night-wanderers, laughing at their harme,
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Pucke,
You do their worke, and they shall haue good lucke.
Are not you he?
  Rob. Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merrie wanderer of the night:
I iest to Oberon, and make him smile,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likenesse of a silly foale,
And sometime lurke I in a Gossips bole,
In very likenesse of a roasted crab:
And when she drinkes, against her lips I bob,
And on her withered dewlop poure the Ale.
The wisest Aunt telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stoole, mistaketh me,
Then slip I from her bum, downe topples she,
And tailour cries, and fals into a coffe.
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe,
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and sweare,
A merrier houre was neuer wasted there.
But roome Fairy, heere comes Oberon

   Fair. And heere my Mistris:
Would that he were gone.
Enter the King of Fairies at one doore with his traine, and the
Queene at
another with hers.

  Ob. Ill met by Moone-light.
Proud Tytania

   Qu. What, iealous Oberon? Fairy skip hence.
I haue forsworne his bed and companie

   Ob. Tarrie rash Wanton; am not I thy Lord?
  Qu. Then I must be thy Lady: but I know
When thou wast stolne away from Fairy Land,
And in the shape of Corin, sate all day,
Playing on pipes of Corne, and versing loue
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou heere
Come from the farthest steepe of India?
But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon
Your buskin'd Mistresse, and your Warrior loue,
To Theseus must be Wedded; and you come,
To giue their bed ioy and prosperitie

   Ob. How canst thou thus for shame Tytania.
Glance at my credite, with Hippolita?
Knowing I know thy loue to Theseus?
Didst thou not leade him through the glimmering night
From Peregenia, whom he rauished?
And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith
With Ariadne, and Antiopa?
  Que. These are the forgeries of iealousie,
And neuer since the middle Summers spring
Met we on hil, in dale, forrest, or mead,
By paued fountaine, or by rushie brooke,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling Winde,
But with thy braules thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine,
As in reuenge, haue suck'd vp from the sea
Contagious fogges: Which falling in the Land,
Hath euerie petty Riuer made so proud,
That they haue ouer-borne their Continents.
The Oxe hath therefore stretch'd his yoake in vaine,
The Ploughman lost his sweat, and the greene Corne
Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard:
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And Crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke,
The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud,
And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene,
For lacke of tread are vndistinguishable.
The humane mortals want their winter heere,
No night is now with hymne or caroll blest;
Therefore the Moone (the gouernesse of floods)
Pale in her anger, washes all the aire;
That Rheumaticke diseases doe abound.
And through this distemperature, we see
The seasons alter; hoared headed Frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson Rose,
And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne,
An odorous Chaplet of sweet Sommer buds
Is as in mockry set. The Spring, the Sommer,
The childing Autumne, angry Winter change
Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knowes not which is which;
And this same progeny of euills,
Comes from our debate, from our dissention,
We are their parents and originall

   Ober. Do you amend it then, it lies in you,
Why should Titania crosse her Oberon?
I do but beg a little changeling boy,
To be my Henchman

   Qu. Set your heart at rest,
The Fairy land buyes not the childe of me,
His mother was a Votresse of my Order,
And in the spiced Indian aire, by night
Full often hath she gossipt by my side,
And sat with me on Neptunes yellow sands,
Marking th' embarked traders on the flood,
When we haue laught to see the sailes conceiue,
And grow big bellied with the wanton winde:
Which she with pretty and with swimming gate,
Following (her wombe then rich with my yong squire)
Would imitate, and saile vpon the Land,
To fetch me trifles, and returne againe,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.
But she being mortall, of that boy did die,
And for her sake I doe reare vp her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him

   Ob. How long within this wood intend you stay?
  Qu. Perchance till after Theseus wedding day.
If you will patiently dance in our Round,
And see our Moone-light reuels, goe with vs;
If not, shun me and I will spare your haunts

   Ob. Giue me that boy, and I will goe with thee

   Qu. Not for thy Fairy Kingdome. Fairies away:
We shall chide downe right, if I longer stay.

Exeunt

   Ob. Wel, go thy way: thou shalt not from this groue,
Till I torment thee for this iniury.
My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest
Since once I sat vpon a promontory,
And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,
Vttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew ciuill at her song,
And certaine starres shot madly from their Spheares,
To heare the Sea-maids musicke

   Puc. I remember

   Ob. That very time I say (but thou couldst not)
Flying betweene the cold Moone and the earth,
Cupid all arm'd; a certaine aime he tooke
At a faire Vestall, throned by the West,
And loos'd his loue-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts,
But I might see young Cupids fiery shaft
Quencht in the chaste beames of the watry Moone;
And the imperiall Votresse passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy free.
Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell vpon a little westerne flower;
Before, milke-white: now purple with loues wound,
And maidens call it, Loue in idlenesse.
Fetch me that flower; the hearb I shew'd thee once,
The iuyce of it, on sleeping eye-lids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Vpon the next liue creature that it sees.
Fetch me this hearbe, and be thou heere againe,
Ere the Leuiathan can swim a league

   Pucke. Ile put a girdle about the earth, in forty minutes

   Ober. Hauing once this iuyce,
Ile watch Titania, when she is asleepe,
And drop the liquor of it in her eyes:
The next thing when she waking lookes vpon,
(Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull,
On medling Monkey, or on busie Ape)
Shee shall pursue it, with the soule of loue.
And ere I take this charme off from her sight,
(As I can take it with another hearbe)
Ile make her render vp her Page to me.
But who comes heere? I am inuisible,
And I will ouer-heare their conference.
Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.

  Deme. I loue thee not, therefore pursue me not,
Where is Lysander, and faire Hermia?
The one Ile stay, the other stayeth me.
Thou toldst me they were stolne into this wood;
And heere am I, and wood within this wood,
Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more

   Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,
But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart
Is true as steele. Leaue you your power to draw,
And I shall haue no power to follow you

   Deme. Do I entice you? do I speake you faire?
Or rather doe I not in plainest truth,
Tell you I doe not, nor I cannot loue you?
  Hel. And euen for that doe I loue thee the more;
I am your spaniell, and Demetrius,
The more you beat me, I will fawne on you.
Vse me but as your spaniell; spurne me, strike me,
Neglect me, lose me; onely giue me leaue
(Vnworthy as I am) to follow you.
What worser place can I beg in your loue,
(And yet a place of high respect with me)
Then to be vsed as you doe your dogge

   Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit,
For I am sicke when I do looke on thee

   Hel. And I am sicke when I looke not on you

   Dem. You doe impeach your modesty too much,
To leaue the Citty, and commit your selfe
Into the hands of one that loues you not,
To trust the opportunity of night.
And the ill counsell of a desert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity

   Hel. Your vertue is my priuiledge: for that
It is not night when I doe see your face.
Therefore I thinke I am not in the night,
Nor doth this wood lacke worlds of company,
For you in my respect are all the world.
Then how can it be said I am alone,
When all the world is heere to looke on me?
  Dem. Ile run from thee, and hide me in the brakes,
And leaue thee to the mercy of wilde beasts

   Hel. The wildest hath not such a heart as you;
Runne when you will, the story shall be chang'd:
Apollo flies and Daphne holds the chase;
The Doue pursues the Griffin, the milde Hinde
Makes speed to catch the Tyger. Bootlesse speede,
When cowardise pursues, and valour flies

   Demet. I will not stay thy questions, let me go;
Or if thou follow me, doe not beleeue,
But I shall doe thee mischiefe in the wood

   Hel. I, in the Temple, in the Towne, and Field
You doe me mischiefe. Fye Demetrius,
Your wrongs doe set a scandall on my sexe:
We cannot fight for loue, as men may doe;
We should be woo'd, and were not made to wooe.
I follow thee, and make a heauen of hell,
To die vpon the hand I loue so well.
Enter.

  Ob. Fare thee well Nymph, ere he do leaue this groue,
Thou shalt flie him, and he shall seeke thy loue.
Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer.
Enter Pucke.

  Puck. I there it is

   Ob. I pray thee giue it me.
I know a banke where the wilde time blowes,
Where Oxslips and the nodding Violet growes,
Quite ouer-cannoped with luscious woodbine,
With sweet muske roses, and with Eglantine;
There sleepes Tytania, sometime of the night,
Lul'd in these flowers, with dances and delight:
And there the snake throwes her enammel'd skinne,
Weed wide enough to rap a Fairy in.
And with the iuyce of this Ile streake her eyes,
And make her full of hatefull fantasies.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this groue;
A sweet Athenian Lady is in loue
With a disdainefull youth: annoint his eyes,
But doe it when the next thing he espies,
May be the Lady. Thou shalt know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on.
Effect it with some care, that he may proue
More fond on her, then she vpon her loue;
And looke thou meet me ere the first Cocke crow

   Pu. Feare not my Lord, your seruant shall do so.
Enter.

Enter Queene of Fairies, with her traine.

  Queen. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy song;
Then for the third part of a minute hence,
Some to kill Cankers in the muske rose buds,
Some warre with Reremise, for their leathern wings.
To make my small Elues coates, and some keepe backe
The clamorous Owle that nightly hoots and wonders
At our queint spirits: Sing me now asleepe,
Then to your offices, and let me rest

   Fairies Sing. You spotted Snakes with double tongue,
Thorny Hedgehogges be not seene,
Newts and blinde wormes do no wrong,
Come not neere our Fairy Queene.
Philomele with melodie,
Sing in your sweet Lullaby.
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby,
Neuer harme, nor spell, nor charme,
Come our louely Lady nye,
So good night with Lullaby

   2.Fairy. Weauing Spiders come not heere,
Hence you long leg'd Spinners, hence:
Beetles blacke approach not neere;
Worme nor Snayle doe no offence.
Philomele with melody, &c

   1.Fairy. Hence away, now all is well;
One aloofe, stand Centinell.

Shee sleepes.

Enter Oberon.

  Ober. What thou seest when thou dost wake,
Do it for thy true Loue take:
Loue and languish for his sake.
Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,
Pard, or Boare with bristled haire,
In thy eye that shall appeare,
When thou wak'st, it is thy deare,
Wake when some vile thing is neere.
Enter Lisander and Hermia.

  Lis. Faire loue, you faint with wandring in y woods,
And to speake troth I haue forgot our way:
Wee'll rest vs Hermia, If you thinke it good,
And tarry for the comfort of the day

   Her. Be it so Lysander; finde you out a bed,
For I vpon this banke will rest my head

   Lys. One turfe shall serue as pillow for vs both,
One heart, one bed, two bosomes, and one troth

   Her. Nay good Lysander, for my sake my deere
Lie further off yet, doe not lie so neere

   Lys. O take the sence sweet, of my innocence,
Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,
I meane that my heart vnto yours is knit,
So that but one heart can you make of it.
Two bosomes interchanged with an oath,
So then two bosomes, and a single troth.
Then by your side, no bed-roome me deny,
For lying so, Hermia, I doe not lye

   Her. Lysander riddles very prettily;
Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to say, Lysander lied.
But gentle friend, for loue and courtesie
Lie further off, in humane modesty,
Such separation, as may well be said,
Becomes a vertuous batchelour, and a maide,
So farre be distant, and good night sweet friend;
Thy loue nere alter, till thy sweet life end

   Lys. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, say I,
And then end life, when I end loyalty:
Heere is my bed, sleepe giue thee all his rest

   Her. With halfe that wish, the wishers eyes be prest.
Enter Pucke. They sleepe.

  Puck. Through the Forest haue I gone,
But Athenian finde I none,
One whose eyes I might approue
This flowers force in stirring loue.
Nigh and silence: who is heere?
Weedes of Athens he doth weare:
This is he (my master said)
Despised the Athenian maide:
And heere the maiden sleeping sound,
On the danke and durty ground.
Pretty soule, she durst not lye
Neere this lacke-loue, this kill-curtesie.
Churle, vpon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charme doth owe:
When thou wak'st, let loue forbid
Sleepe his seate on thy eye-lid.
So awake when I am gone:
For I must now to Oberon.
Enter.

Enter Demetrius and Helena running.

  Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweete Demetrius

   De. I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus

   Hel. O wilt thou darkling leaue me? do not so

   De. Stay on thy perill, I alone will goe.

Exit Demetrius.

  Hel. O I am out of breath, in this fond chace,
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace,
Happy is Hermia, wheresoere she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractiue eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt teares.
If so, my eyes are oftner washt then hers.
No, no, I am as vgly as a Beare;
For beasts that meete me, runne away for feare,
Therefore no maruaile, though Demetrius
Doe as a monster, flie my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glasse of mine,
Made me compare with Hermias sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander on the ground;
Deade or asleepe? I see no bloud, no wound,
Lysander, if you liue, good sir awake

   Lys. And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
Transparent Helena, nature her shewes art,
That through thy bosome makes me see thy heart.
Where is Demetrius? oh how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword!
  Hel. Do not say so Lysander, say not so:
What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though?
Yet Hermia still loues you; then be content

   Lys. Content with Hermia? no, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her haue spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena now I loue;
Who will not change a Rauen for a Doue?
The will of man is by his reason sway'd:
And reason saies you are the worthier Maide.
Things growing are not ripe vntill their season;
So I being yong, till now ripe not to reason,
And touching now the point of humane skill,
Reason becomes the Marshall to my will.
And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke
Loues stories, written in Loues richest booke

   Hel. Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
When at your hands did I deserue this scorne?
Ist not enough, ist not enough, yong man,
That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
Deserue a sweete looke from Demetrius eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
Good troth you do me wrong (good-sooth you do)
In such disdainfull manner, me to wooe.
But fare you well; perforce I must confesse,
I thought you Lord of more true gentlenesse.
Oh, that a Lady of one man refus'd,
Should of another therefore be abus'd.
Enter

   Lys. She sees not Hermia: Hermia sleepe thou there,
And neuer maist thou come Lysander neere;
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomacke brings:
Or as the heresies that men do leaue,
Are hated most of those that did deceiue:
So thou, my surfeit, and my heresie,
Of all be hated; but the most of me;
And all my powers addresse your loue and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her Knight.
Enter.

  Her. Helpe me Lysander, helpe me; do thy best
To plucke this crawling serpent from my brest.
Aye me, for pitty; what a dreame was here?
Lysander looke, how I do quake with feare:
Me-thought a serpent eate my heart away,
And yet sat smiling at his cruell prey.
Lysander, What remoou'd? Lysander, Lord,
What, out of hearing, gone? No sound, no word?
Alacke where are you? speake and if you heare:
Speake of all loues; I sound almost with feare.
No, then I well perceiue you are not nye,
Either death or you Ile finde immediately.
Enter.


Actus Tertius.

Enter the Clownes.

  Bot. Are we all met?
  Quin. Pat, pat, and here's a maruailous conuenient
place for our rehearsall. This greene plot shall be our
stage, this hauthorne brake our tyring house, and we will
do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke

   Bot. Peter Quince?
  Peter. What saist thou, bully Bottome?
  Bot. There are things in this Comedy of Piramus and
Thisby, that will neuer please. First, Piramus must draw a
sword to kill himselfe; which the Ladies cannot abide.
How answere you that?
  Snout. Berlaken, a parlous feare

   Star. I beleeue we must leaue the killing out, when
all is done

   Bot. Not a whit, I haue a deuice to make all well.
Write me a Prologue, and let the Prologue seeme to say,
we will do no harme with our swords, and that Pyramus
is not kill'd indeede: and for the more better assurance,
tell them, that I Piramus am not Piramus, but Bottome the
Weauer; this will put them out of feare

   Quin. Well, we will haue such a Prologue, and it shall
be written in eight and sixe

   Bot. No, make it two more, let it be written in eight
and eight

   Snout. Will not the Ladies be afear'd of the Lyon?
  Star. I feare it, I promise you

   Bot. Masters, you ought to consider with your selues, to
bring in (God shield vs) a Lyon among Ladies, is a most
dreadfull thing. For there is not a more fearefull wilde
foule then your Lyon liuing: and wee ought to looke
to it

   Snout. Therefore another Prologue must tell he is not
a Lyon

   Bot. Nay, you must name his name, and halfe his face
must be seene through the Lyons necke, and he himselfe
must speake through, saying thus, or to the same defect;
Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would wish you, or I would
request you, or I would entreat you, not to feare, not to
tremble: my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither
as a Lyon, it were pitty of my life. No, I am no such
thing, I am a man as other men are; and there indeed let
him name his name, and tell him plainly hee is Snug the
ioyner

   Quin. Well, it shall be so; but there is two hard
things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a chamber:
for you know Piramus and Thisby meete by Moonelight

   Sn. Doth the Moone shine that night wee play our
play?
  Bot. A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack,
finde out Moone-shine, finde out Moone-shine.
Enter Pucke.

  Quin. Yes, it doth shine that night

   Bot. Why then may you leaue a casement of the great
chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moone
may shine in at the casement

   Quin. I, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns
and a lanthorne, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present
the person of Moone-shine. Then there is another
thing, we must haue a wall in the great Chamber; for Piramus
and Thisby (saies the story) did talke through the
chinke of a wall

   Sn. You can neuer bring in a wall. What say you
Bottome?
  Bot. Some man or other must present wall, and let
him haue some Plaster, or some Lome, or some rough
cast about him, to signifie wall; or let him hold his fingers
thus; and through that cranny shall Piramus and
Thisby whisper

   Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit
downe euery mothers sonne, and rehearse your parts.
Piramus, you begin; when you haue spoken your speech,
enter into that Brake, and so euery one according to his
cue.
Enter Robin.

  Rob. What hempen home-spuns haue we swaggering
here,
So neere the Cradle of the Faierie Queene?
What, a Play toward? Ile be an auditor,
An Actor too perhaps, if I see cause

   Quin. Speake Piramus: Thisby stand forth

   Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious sauors sweete

   Quin. Odours, odours

   Pir. Odours sauors sweete,
So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby deare.
But harke, a voyce: stay thou but here a while,
And by and by I will to thee appeare.

Exit. Pir.

  Puck. A stranger Piramus, then ere plaid here

   This. Must I speake now?
  Pet. I marry must you. For you must vnderstand he
goes but to see a noyse that he heard, and is to come againe

   Thys. Most radiant Piramus, most Lilly white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant bryer,
Most brisky Iuuenall, and eke most louely Iew,
As true as truest horse, that yet would neuer tyre,
Ile meete thee Piramus, at Ninnies toombe

   Pet. Ninus toombe man: why, you must not speake
that yet; that you answere to Piramus: you speake all
your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is
past; it is neuer tyre

   Thys. O, as true as truest horse, that yet would neuer
tyre:
  Pir. If I were faire, Thisby I were onely thine

   Pet. O monstrous. O strange. We are hanted; pray
masters, flye masters, helpe.

The Clownes all Exit.

  Puk. Ile follow you, Ile leade you about a Round,
Through bogge, through bush, through brake, through bryer,
Sometime a horse Ile be, sometime a hound:
A hogge, a headlesse beare, sometime a fire,
And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne,
Like horse, hound, hog, beare, fire, at euery turne.
Enter.

Enter Piramus with the Asse head.

  Bot. Why do they run away? This is a knauery of
them to make me afeard.
Enter Snowt

   Sn. O Bottom, thou art chang'd; What doe I see on
thee?
  Bot. What do you see? You see an Asse-head of your
owne, do you?
Enter Peter Quince.

  Pet. Blesse thee Bottome, blesse thee; thou art translated.
Enter.

  Bot. I see their knauery; this is to make an asse of me,
to fright me if they could; but I will not stirre from
this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and downe
here, and I will sing that they shall heare I am not afraid.
The Woosell cocke, so blacke of hew,
With Orenge-tawny bill.
The Throstle, with his note so true,
The Wren and little quill

   Tyta. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?
  Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
The plainsong Cuckow gray;
Whose note full many a man doth marke,
And dares not answere, nay.
For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow,
neuer so?
  Tyta. I pray thee gentle mortall, sing againe,
Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;
On the first view to say, to sweare I loue thee.
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue me

   Bot. Me-thinkes mistresse, you should haue little
reason for that: and yet to say the truth, reason and
loue keepe little company together, nowadayes.
The more the pittie, that some honest neighbours will
not make them friends. Nay, I can gleeke vpon occasion

   Tyta. Thou art as wise, as thou art beautifull

   Bot. Not so neither: but if I had wit enough to get
out of this wood, I haue enough to serue mine owne
turne

   Tyta. Out of this wood, do not desire to goe,
Thou shalt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate:
The Summer still doth tend vpon my state,
And I doe loue thee; therefore goe with me,
Ile giue thee Fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleepe:
And I will purge thy mortall grossenesse so,
That thou shalt like an airie spirit go.
Enter Pease-blossome, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseede, and foure
Fairies.

  Fai. Ready; and I, and I, and I, Where shall we go?
  Tita. Be kinde and curteous to this Gentleman,
Hop in his walkes, and gambole in his eies,
Feede him with Apricocks, and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes, greene Figs, and Mulberries,
The honie-bags steale from the humble Bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighes,
And light them at the fierie-Glow-wormes eyes,
To haue my loue to bed, and to arise:
And plucke the wings from painted Butterflies,
To fan the Moone-beames from his sleeping eies.
Nod to him Elues, and doe him curtesies

   1.Fai. Haile mortall, haile

   2.Fai. Haile

   3.Fai. Haile

   Bot. I cry your worships mercy hartily; I beseech
your worships name

   Cob. Cobweb

   Bot. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good
Master Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold
with you.
Your name honest Gentleman?
  Pease. Pease Blossome

   Bot. I pray you commend me to mistresse Squash,
your mother, and to master Peascod your father. Good
master Pease-blossome, I shal desire of you more acquaintance
to. Your name I beseech you sir?
  Mus. Mustard-seede

   Peas. Pease-blossome

   Bot. Good master Mustard seede, I know your patience
well: that same cowardly gyant-like Oxe beefe
hath deuoured many a gentleman of your house. I promise
you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere
now. I desire you more acquaintance, good Master
Mustard-seede

   Tita. Come waite vpon him, lead him to my bower.
The Moone me-thinks, lookes with a watrie eie,
And when she weepes, weepe euerie little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastitie.
Tye vp my louers tongue, bring him silently.
Enter.

Enter King of Pharies, solus.

  Ob. I wonder if Titania be awak't;
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which she must dote on, in extremitie.
Enter Pucke.

Here comes my messenger: how now mad spirit,
What night-rule now about this haunted groue?
  Puck. My Mistris with a monster is in loue,
Neere to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hower,
A crew of patches, rude Mechanicals,
That worke for bread vpon Athenian stals,
Were met together to rehearse a Play,
Intended for great Theseus nuptiall day:
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Piramus presented, in their sport,
Forsooke his Scene, and entred in a brake,
When I did him at this aduantage take,
An Asses nole I fixed on his head.
Anon his Thisbie must be answered,
And forth my Mimmick comes: when they him spie,
As Wilde-geese, that the creeping Fowler eye,
Or russed-pated choughes, many in sort
(Rising and cawing at the guns report)
Seuer themselues, and madly sweepe the skye:
So at his sight, away his fellowes flye,
And at our stampe, here ore and ore one fals;
He murther cries, and helpe from Athens cals.
Their sense thus weake, lost with their feares thus strong,
Made senslesse things begin to do them wrong.
For briars and thornes at their apparell snatch,
Some sleeues, some hats, from yeelders all things catch,
I led them on in this distracted feare,
And left sweete Piramus translated there:
When in that moment (so it came to passe)
Tytania waked, and straightway lou'd an Asse

   Ob. This fals out better then I could deuise:
But hast thou yet lacht the Athenians eyes,
With the loue iuyce, as I bid thee doe?
  Rob. I tooke him sleeping (that is finisht to)
And the Athenian woman by his side,
That when he wak't, of force she must be eyde.
Enter Demetrius and Hermia.

  Ob. Stand close, this is the same Athenian

   Rob. This is the woman, but not this the man

   Dem. O why rebuke you him that loues you so?
Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe

   Her. Now I but chide, but I should vse thee worse.
For thou (I feare) hast giuen me cause to curse,
If thou hast slaine Lysander in his sleepe,
Being oreshooes in bloud, plunge in the deepe, and kill
me too:
The Sunne was not so true vnto the day,
As he to me. Would he haue stollen away,
From sleeping Hermia? Ile beleeue as soone
This whole earth may be bord, and that the Moone
May through the Center creepe, and so displease
Her brothers noonetide, with th'Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murdred him,
So should a murtherer looke, so dead, so grim

   Dem. So should the murderer looke, and so should I,
Pierst through the heart with your stearne cruelty:
Yet you the murderer lookes as bright as cleare,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering spheare

   Her. What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou giue him me?
  Dem. I'de rather giue his carkasse to my hounds

   Her. Out dog, out cur, thou driu'st me past the bounds
Of maidens patience. Hast thou slaine him then?
Henceforth be neuer numbred among men.
Oh, once tell true, euen for my sake,
Durst thou a lookt vpon him, being awake?
And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O braue tutch:
Could not a worme, an Adder do so much?
An Adder did it: for with doubler tongue
Then thine (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung

   Dem. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood,
I am not guiltie of Lysanders blood:
Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell

   Her. I pray thee tell me then that he is well

   Dem. And if I could, what should I get therefore?
  Her. A priuiledge, neuer to see me more;
And from thy hated presence part I: see me no more
Whether he be dead or no.
Enter.

  Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vaine,
Here therefore for a while I will remaine.
So sorrowes heauinesse doth heauier grow:
For debt that bankrout slip doth sorrow owe,
Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make some stay.

Lie downe.

  Ob. What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite
And laid the loue iuyce on some true loues sight:
Of thy misprision, must perforce ensue
Some true loue turn'd, and not a false turn'd true

   Rob. Then fate ore-rules, that one man holding troth,
A million faile, confounding oath on oath

   Ob. About the wood, goe swifter then the winde,
And Helena of Athens looke thou finde.
All fancy sicke she is, and pale of cheere,
With sighes of loue, that costs the fresh bloud deare.
By some illusion see thou bring her heere,
Ile charme his eyes against she doth appeare

   Robin. I go, I go, looke how I goe,
Swifter then arrow from the Tartars bowe.
Enter.

  Ob. Flower of this purple die,
Hit with Cupids archery,
Sinke in apple of his eye,
When his loue he doth espie,
Let her shine as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.
When thou wak'st if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.
Enter Pucke.

  Puck. Captaine of our Fairy band,
Helena is heere at hand,
And the youth, mistooke by me,
Pleading for a Louers fee.
Shall we their fond Pageant see?
Lord, what fooles these mortals be!
  Ob. Stand aside: the noyse they make,
Will cause Demetrius to awake

   Puck. Then will two at once wooe one,
That must needs be sport alone:
And those things doe best please me,
That befall preposterously.
Enter Lysander and Helena.

  Lys. Why should you think y I should wooe in scorn?
Scorne and derision neuer comes in teares:
Looke when I vow I weepe; and vowes so borne,
In their natiuity all truth appeares.
How can these things in me, seeme scorne to you?
Bearing the badge of faith to proue them true

   Hel. You doe aduance your cunning more & more,
When truth kils truth, O diuelish holy fray!
These vowes are Hermias. Will you giue her ore?
Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh.
Your vowes to her, and me, (put in two scales)
Will euen weigh, and both as light as tales

   Lys. I had no iudgement, when to her I swore

   Hel. Nor none in my minde, now you giue her ore

   Lys. Demetrius loues her, and he loues not you.

Awa.

  Dem. O Helen, goddesse, nimph, perfect, diuine,
To what, my loue, shall I compare thine eyne!
Christall is muddy, O how ripe in show,
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow,
Fan'd with the Easterne winde, turnes to a crow,
When thou holdst vp thy hand. O let me kisse
This Princesse of pure white, this seale of blisse

   Hell. O spight! O hell! I see you are all bent
To set against me, for your merriment:
If you were ciuill, and knew curtesie,
You would not doe me thus much iniury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you doe,
But you must ioyne in soules to mocke me to?
If you are men, as men you are in show,
You would not vse a gentle Lady so;
To vow, and sweare, and superpraise my parts,
When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
You both are Riuals, and loue Hermia;
And now both Riuals to mocke Helena.
A trim exploit, a manly enterprize,
To coniure teares vp in a poore maids eyes,
With your derision; none of noble sort,
Would so offend a Virgin, and extort
A poore soules patience, all to make you sport,
  Lysa. You are vnkind Demetrius; be not so,
For you loue Hermia; this you know I know;
And here with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermias loue I yeeld you vp my part;
And yours of Helena, To me bequeath,
Whom I do loue, and will do to my death

   Hel. Neuer did mockers wast more idle breth

   Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia, I will none:
If ere I lou'd her, all that loue is gone.
My heart to her, but as guest-wise soiourn'd,
And now to Helen it is home return'd,
There to remaine

   Lys. It is not so

   De. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
Lest to thy perill thou abide it deare.
Looke where thy Loue comes, yonder is thy deare.
Enter Hermia.

  Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The eare more quicke of apprehension makes,
Wherein it doth impaire the seeing sense,
It paies the hearing double recompence.
Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander found,
Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that sound.
But why vnkindly didst thou leaue me so?
  Lysan. Why should hee stay whom Loue doth presse to go?
  Her. What loue could presse Lysander from my side?
  Lys. Lysanders loue (that would not let him bide)
Faire Helena; who more engilds the night,
Then all yon fierie oes, and eies of light.
Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know,
The hate I bare thee, made me leaue thee so?
  Her. You speake not as you thinke; it cannot be

   Hel. Loe, she is one of this confederacy,
Now I perceiue they haue conioyn'd all three,
To fashion this false sport in spight of me.
Iniurous Hermia, most vngratefull maid,
Haue you conspir'd, haue you with these contriu'd
To baite me, with this foule derision?
Is all the counsell that we two haue shar'd,
The sisters vowes, the houres that we haue spent,
When wee haue chid the hasty footed time,
For parting vs; O, is all forgot?
All schooledaies friendship, child-hood innocence?
We Hermia, like two Artificiall gods,
Haue with our needles, created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Both warbling of one song, both in one key:
As if our hands, our sides, voices, and mindes
Had beene incorporate. So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet a vnion in partition,
Two louely berries molded on one stem,
So with two seeming bodies, but one heart,
Two of the first life coats in Heraldry,
Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
And will you rent our ancient loue asunder,
To ioyne with men in scorning your poore friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.
Our sexe as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone doe feele the iniurie

   Her. I am amazed at your passionate words,
I scorne you not; It seemes that you scorne me

   Hel. Haue you not set Lysander, as in scorne
To follow me, and praise my eies and face?
And made your other loue, Demetrius
(Who euen but now did spurne me with his foote)
To call me goddesse, nimph, diuine, and rare,
Precious, celestiall? Wherefore speakes he this
To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
Denie your loue (so rich within his soule)
And tender me (forsooth) affection,
But by your setting on, by your consent?
What though I be not so in grace as you,
So hung vpon with loue, so fortunate?
(But miserable most, to loue vnlou'd)
This you should pittie, rather then despise

   Her. I vnderstand not what you meane by this

   Hel. I, doe, perseuer, counterfeit sad lookes,
Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe,
Winke each at other, hold the sweete iest vp:
This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.
If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners,
You would not make me such an argument:
But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault,
Which death or absence soone shall remedie

   Lys. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuse,
My loue, my life, my soule, faire Helena

   Hel. O excellent!
  Her. Sweete, do not scorne her so

   Dem. If she cannot entreate, I can compell

   Lys. Thou canst compell, no more then she entreate.
Thy threats haue no more strength then her weak praise.
Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe;
I sweare by that which I will lose for thee,
To proue him false, that saies I loue thee not

   Dem. I say, I loue thee more then he can do

   Lys. If thou say so, withdraw and proue it too

   Dem. Quick, come

   Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
  Lys. Away, you Ethiope

   Dem. No, no, Sir, seeme to breake loose;
Take on as you would follow,
But yet come not: you are a tame man, go

   Lys. Hang off thou cat, thou bur; vile thing let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent

   Her. Why are you growne so rude?
What change is this sweete Loue?
  Lys. Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out;
Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence

   Her. Do you not iest?
  Hel. Yes sooth, and so do you

   Lys. Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee

   Dem. I would I had your bond: for I perceiue
A weake bond holds you; Ile not trust your word

   Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
Although I hate her, Ile not harme her so

   Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate?
Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Loue?
Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
I am as faire now, as I was ere while.
Since night you lou'd me: yet since night you left me.
Why then you left me (O the gods forbid)
In earnest, shall I say?
  Lys. I, by my life;
And neuer did desire to see thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
Be certaine, nothing truer: 'tis no iest,
That I do hate thee, and loue Helena

   Her. O me, you iugler, you canker blossome,
You theefe of loue; What, haue you come by night,
And stolne my loues heart from him?
  Hel. Fine yfaith:
Haue you no modesty, no maiden shame,
No touch of bashfulnesse? What, will you teare
Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you

   Her. Puppet? why so? I, that way goes the game.
Now I perceiue that she hath made compare
Betweene our statures, she hath vrg'd her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height (forsooth) she hath preuail'd with him.
And are you growne so high in his esteeme,
Because I am so dwarfish, and so low?
How low am I, thou painted May-pole? Speake,
How low am I? I am not yet so low,
But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes

   Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me; I was neuer curst:
I haue no gift at all in shrewishnesse;
I am a right maide for my cowardize;
Let her not strike me: you perhaps may thinke,
Because she is something lower then my selfe,
That I can match her

   Her. Lower? harke againe

   Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me,
I euermore did loue you Hermia,
Did euer keepe your counsels, neuer wronged you,
Saue that in loue vnto Demetrius,
I told him of your stealth vnto this wood.
He followed you, for loue I followed him,
But he hath chid me hence, and threatned me
To strike me, spurne me, nay to kill me too;
And now, so you will let me quiet go,
To Athens will I beare my folly backe,
And follow you no further. Let me go.
You see how simple, and how fond I am

   Her. Why get you gone: who ist that hinders you?
  Hel. A foolish heart, that I leaue here behinde

   Her. What, with Lysander?
  Her. With Demetrius

   Lys. Be not afraid, she shall not harme thee Helena

   Dem. No sir, she shall not, though you take her part

   Hel. O when she's angry, she is keene and shrewd,
She was a vixen when she went to schoole,
And though she be but little, she is fierce

   Her. Little againe? Nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her

   Lys. Get you gone you dwarfe,
You minimus, of hindring knot-grasse made,
You bead, you acorne

   Dem. You are too officious,
In her behalfe that scornes your seruices.
Let her alone, speake not of Helena,
Take not her part. For if thou dost intend
Neuer so little shew of loue to her,
Thou shalt abide it

   Lys. Now she holds me not,
Now follow if thou dar'st, to try whose right,
Of thine or mine is most in Helena

   Dem. Follow? Nay, Ile goe with thee cheeke by
iowle.

Exit Lysander and Demetrius.

  Her. You Mistris, all this coyle is long of you.
Nay, goe not backe

   Hel. I will not trust you I,
Nor longer stay in your curst companie.
Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though to runne away.
Enter Oberon and Pucke.

  Ob. This is thy negligence, still thou mistak'st,
Or else committ'st thy knaueries willingly

   Puck. Beleeue me, King of shadowes, I mistooke,
Did not you tell me, I should know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on?
And so farre blamelesse proues my enterprize,
That I haue nointed an Athenians eies,
And so farre am I glad, it so did sort,
As this their iangling I esteeme a sport

   Ob. Thou seest these Louers seeke a place to fight,
Hie therefore Robin, ouercast the night,
The starrie Welkin couer thou anon,
With drooping fogge as blacke as Acheron,
And lead these testie Riuals so astray,
As one come not within anothers way.
Like to Lysander, sometime frame thy tongue,
Then stirre Demetrius vp with bitter wrong;
And sometime raile thou like Demetrius;
And from each other looke thou leade them thus,
Till ore their browes, death-counterfeiting, sleepe
With leaden legs, and Battie-wings doth creepe:
Then crush this hearbe into Lysanders eie,
Whose liquor hath this vertuous propertie,
To take from thence all error, with his might,
and make his eie-bals role with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seeme a dreame, and fruitless vision,
And backe to Athens shall the Louers wend
With league, whose date till death shall neuer end.
Whiles I in this affaire do thee imploy,
Ile to my Queene, and beg her Indian Boy;
And then I will her charmed eie release
From monsters view, and all things shall be peace

   Puck. My Fairie Lord, this must be done with haste,
For night-swift Dragons cut the Clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Auroras harbinger;
At whose approach Ghosts wandring here and there,
Troope home to Church-yards; damned spirits all,
That in crosse-waies and flouds haue buriall,
Alreadie to their wormie beds are gone;
For feare least day should looke their shames vpon,
They wilfully themselues exile from light,
And must for aye consort with blacke browd night

   Ob. But we are spirits of another sort:
I, with the mornings loue haue oft made sport,
And like a Forrester, the groues may tread,
Euen till the Easterne gate all fierie red,
Opening on Neptune, With faire blessed beames,
Turnes into yellow gold, his salt greene streames.
But not withstanding haste, make no delay:
We may effect this businesse, yet ere day

   Puck. Vp and downe, vp and downe, I will leade
them vp and downe: I am fear'd in field and towne.
Goblin, lead them vp and downe: here comes one.
Enter Lysander.

  Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius?
Speake thou now

   Rob. Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou?
  Lys. I will be with thee straight

   Rob. Follow me then to plainer ground.
Enter Demetrius.

  Dem. Lysander, speake againe;
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speake in some bush: Where dost thou hide thy head?
  Rob. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,
And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou childe,
Ile whip thee with a rod. He is defil'd
That drawes a sword on thee

   Dem. Yea, art thou there?
  Ro. Follow my voice, we'l try no manhood here.
Enter.

  Lys. He goes before me, and still dares me on,
When I come where he cals, then he's gone.
The Villaine is much lighter heel'd then I:
I followed fast, but faster he did flye;

shifting places.

That fallen am I in darke vneuen way,
And here wil rest me. Come thou gentle day:

lye down.

For if but once thou shew me thy gray light,
Ile finde Demetrius, and reuenge this spight.
Enter Robin and Demetrius.

  Rob. Ho, ho, ho; coward, why com'st thou not?
  Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'st. For well I wot,
Thou runst before me, shifting euery place,
And dar'st not stand, nor looke me in the face.
Where art thou?
  Rob. Come hither, I am here

   Dem. Nay then thou mock'st me; thou shalt buy this
deere,
If euer I thy face by day-light see.
Now goe thy way: faintnesse constraineth me,
To measure out my length on this cold bed,
By daies approach looke to be visited.
Enter Helena.

  Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy houres, shine comforts from the East,
That I may backe to Athens by day-light,
From these that my poore companie detest;
And sleepe that sometime shuts vp sorrowes eie,
Steale me a while from mine owne companie.

Sleepe.

  Rob. Yet but three? Come one more,
Two of both kindes makes vp foure.
Here she comes, curst and sad,
Cupid is a knauish lad,
Enter Hermia.

Thus to make poore females mad

   Her. Neuer so wearie, neuer so in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torne with briars,
I can no further crawle, no further goe;
My legs can keepe no pace with my desires.
Here will I rest me till the breake of day,
Heauens shield Lysander, if they meane a fray

   Rob. On the ground sleepe sound,
Ile apply your eie gentle louer, remedy.
When thou wak'st, thou tak'st
True delight in the sight of thy former Ladies eye,
And the Country Prouerb knowne,
That euery man should take his owne,
In your waking shall be showne.
Iacke shall haue Iill, nought shall goe ill.
The man shall haue his Mare againe, and all shall bee
well.

They sleepe all the Act.


Actus Quartus.

Enter Queene of Fairies, and Clowne, and Fairies, and the King
behinde
them.

  Tita. Come, sit thee downe vpon this flowry bed,
While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy,
And sticke muske roses in thy sleeke smoothe head,
And kisse thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy

   Clow. Where's Peaseblossome?
  Peas. Ready

   Clow. Scratch my head, Pease-blossome. Wher's Mounsieuer
Cobweb

   Cob. Ready

   Clowne. Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsier get your
weapons in your hand, & kill me a red hipt humble-Bee,
on the top of a thistle; and good Mounsieur bring mee
the hony bag. Doe not fret your selfe too much in the
action, Mounsieur; and good mounsieur haue a care the
hony bag breake not, I would be loth to haue you ouerflowne
with a hony-bag signiour. Where's Mounsieur
Mustardseed?
  Mus. Ready

   Clo. Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseed.
Pray you leaue your courtesie good Mounsieur

   Mus. What's your will?
  Clo. Nothing good Mounsieur, but to help Caualery
Cobweb to scratch. I must to the Barbers Mounsieur, for
me-thinkes I am maruellous hairy about the face. And I
am such a tender asse, if my haire do but tickle me, I must
scratch

   Tita. What, wilt thou heare some musicke, my sweet
loue

   Clow. I haue a reasonable good eare in musicke. Let
vs haue the tongs and the bones.

Musicke Tongs, Rurall Musicke.

  Tita. Or say sweete Loue, what thou desirest to eat

   Clowne. Truly a pecke of Prouender; I could munch
your good dry Oates. Me-thinkes I haue a great desire
to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweete hay hath no fellow

   Tita. I haue a venturous Fairy,
That shall seeke the Squirrels hoard,
And fetch thee new Nuts

   Clown. I had rather haue a handfull or two of dried
pease. But I pray you let none of your people stirre me, I
haue an exposition of sleepe come vpon me

   Tyta. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my arms,
Fairies be gone, and be alwaies away.
So doth the woodbine, the sweet Honisuckle,
Gently entwist; the female Iuy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme.
O how I loue thee! how I dote on thee!
Enter Robin goodfellow and Oberon.

  Ob. Welcome good Robin:
Seest thou this sweet sight?
Her dotage now I doe begin to pitty.
For meeting her of late behinde the wood,
Seeking sweet sauours for this hatefull foole,
I did vpbraid her, and fall out with her.
For she his hairy temples then had rounded,
With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers.
And that same dew which somtime on the buds,
Was wont to swell like round and orient pearles;
Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes,
Like teares that did their owne disgrace bewaile.
When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
And she in milde termes beg'd my patience,
I then did aske of her, her changeling childe,
Which straight she gaue me, and her fairy sent
To beare him to my Bower in Fairy Land.
And now I haue the Boy, I will vndoe
This hatefull imperfection of her eyes.
And gentle Pucke, take this transformed scalpe,
From off the head of this Athenian swaine;
That he awaking when the other doe,
May all to Athens backe againe repaire,
And thinke no more of this nights accidents,
But as the fierce vexation of dreame.
But first I will release the Fairy Queene.
Be thou as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see.
Dians bud, or Cupids flower,
Hath such force and blessed power.
Now my Titania wake you my sweet Queene

   Tita. My Oberon, what visions haue I seene!
Me-thought I was enamoured of an asse

   Ob. There lies your loue

   Tita. How came these things to passe?
Oh, how mine eyes doth loath this visage now!
  Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head:
Titania, musick call, and strike more dead
Then common sleepe; of all these, fine the sense

   Tita. Musicke, ho musicke, such as charmeth sleepe.

Musick still.

  Rob. When thou wak'st, with thine owne fooles eies
peepe

   Ob. Sound musick; come my Queen, take hands with me
And rocke the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I new in amity,
And will to morrow midnight, solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus house triumphantly,
And blesse it to all faire posterity.
There shall the paires of faithfull Louers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in iollity

   Rob. Faire King attend, and marke,
I doe heare the morning Larke,
  Ob. Then my Queene in silence sad,
Trip we after the nights shade;
We the Globe can compasse soone,
Swifter then the wandering Moone

   Tita. Come my Lord, and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping heere was found,

Sleepers Lye still.

With these mortals on the ground.

Exeunt.

Winde Hornes.

Enter Theseus, Egeus, Hippolita and all his traine.

  Thes. Goe one of you, finde out the Forrester,
For now our obseruation is perform'd;
And since we haue the vaward of the day,
My Loue shall heare the musicke of my hounds.
Vncouple in the Westerne valley, let them goe;
Dispatch I say, and finde the Forrester.
We will faire Queene, vp to the Mountains top,
And marke the musicall confusion
Of hounds and eccho in coniunction

   Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once.
When in a wood of Creete they bayed the Beare
With hounds of Sparta; neuer did I heare
Such gallant chiding. For besides the groues,
The skies, the fountaines, euery region neere,
Seeme all one mutuall cry. I neuer heard
So musicall a discord, such sweet thunder

   Thes. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kinde,
So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With eares that sweepe away the morning dew,
Crooke kneed, and dew-lapt, like Thessalian Buls,
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bels,
Each vnder each. A cry more tuneable
Was neuer hallowed to, nor cheer'd with horne,
In Creete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly;
Iudge when you heare. But soft, what nimphs are these?
  Egeus. My Lord, this is my daughter heere asleepe,
And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, olde Nedars Helena,
I wonder of this being heere together

   The. No doubt they rose vp early, to obserue
The right of May; and hearing our intent,
Came heere in grace of our solemnity.
But speake Egeus, is not this the day
That Hermia should giue answer of her choice?
  Egeus. It is, my Lord

   Thes. Goe bid the hunts-men wake them with their
hornes.

Hornes and they wake.

Shout within, they all start vp.

  Thes. Good morrow friends: Saint Valentine is past,
Begin these wood birds but to couple now?
  Lys. Pardon my Lord

   Thes. I pray you all stand vp.
I know you two are Riuall enemies.
How comes this gentle concord in the world,
That hatred is so farre from iealousie,
To sleepe by hate, and feare no enmity

   Lys. My Lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Halfe sleepe, halfe waking. but as yet, I sweare,
I cannot truly say how I came heere.
But as I thinke (for truly would I speake)
And now I doe bethinke me, so it is;
I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be
Without the perill of the Athenian Law

   Ege. Enough, enough, my Lord: you haue enough;
I beg the Law, the Law, vpon his head:
They would have stolne away, they would Demetrius,
Thereby to haue defeated you and me:
You of your wife, and me of my consent;
Of my consent, that she should be your wife

   Dem. My Lord, faire Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood,
And I in furie hither followed them;
Faire Helena, in fancy followed me.
But my good Lord, I wot not by what not by what power,
(But by some power it is) my loue
To Hermia (melted as the snow)
Seems to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaude,
Which in my childehood I did doat vpon:
And all the faith, the vertue of my heart,
The obiect and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is onely Helena. To her, my Lord,
Was I betroth'd, ere I see Hermia,
But like a sickenesse did I loath this food,
But as in health, come to my naturall taste,
Now doe I wish it, loue it, long for it,
And will for euermore be true to it

   Thes. Faire Louers, you are fortunately met;
Of this discourse we shall heare more anon.
Egeus, I will ouer-beare your will;
For in the Temple, by and by with vs,
These couples shall eternally be knit.
And for the morning now is something worne,
Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.
Away, with vs to Athens; three and three,
Wee'll hold a feast in great solemnitie.
Come Hippolita.

Exit Duke and Lords.

  Dem. These things seeme small & vndistinguishable,
Like farre off mountaines turned into Clouds

   Her. Me-thinks I see these things with parted eye,
When euery thing seemes double

   Hel. So me-thinkes:
And I haue found Demetrius, like a iewell,
Mine owne, and not mine owne

   Dem. It seemes to mee,
That yet we sleepe, we dreame. Do not you thinke,
The Duke was heere, and bid vs follow him?
  Her. Yea, and my Father

   Hel. And Hippolita

   Lys. And he bid vs follow to the Temple

   Dem. Why then we are awake; lets follow him, and
by the way let vs recount our dreames.

Bottome wakes.

Exit Louers.

  Clo. When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer.
My next is, most faire Piramus. Hey ho. Peter Quince?
Flute the bellowes-mender? Snout the tinker? Starueling?
Gods my life! Stolne hence, and left me asleepe: I
haue had a most rare vision. I had a dreame, past the wit
of man, to say, what dreame it was. Man is but an Asse,
if he goe about to expound this dreame. Me-thought I
was, there is no man can tell what. Me-thought I was,
and me-thought I had. But man is but a patch'd foole,
if he will offer to say, what me-thought I had. The eye of
man hath not heard, the eare of man hath not seen, mans
hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceiue, nor his
heart to report, what my dreame was. I will get Peter
Quince to write a ballet of this dreame, it shall be called
Bottomes Dreame, because it hath no bottome; and I will
sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peraduenture,
to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it
at her death.
Enter.

Enter Quince, Flute, Thisbie, Snout, and Starueling.

  Quin. Haue you sent to Bottomes house? Is he come
home yet?
  Staru. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt hee is
transported

   This. If he come not, then the play is mar'd. It goes
not forward, doth it?
  Quin. It is not possible: you haue not a man in all
Athens, able to discharge Piramus but he

   This. No, hee hath simply the best wit of any handycraft
man in Athens

   Quin. Yea, and the best person too, and hee is a very
Paramour, for a sweet voyce

   This. You must say, Paragon. A Paramour is (God
blesse vs) a thing of nought.
Enter Snug the Ioyner.

  Snug. Masters, the Duke is comming from the Temple,
and there is two or three Lords & Ladies more married.
If our sport had gone forward, we had all bin made
men

   This. O sweet bully Bottome: thus hath he lost sixepence
a day, during his life; he could not haue scaped sixpence
a day. And the Duke had not giuen him sixpence
a day for playing Piramus, Ile be hang'd. He would haue
deserued it. Sixpence a day in Piramus, or nothing.
Enter Bottome.

  Bot. Where are these Lads? Where are these hearts?
  Quin. Bottome, o most couragious day! O most happie
houre!
  Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me
not what. For if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I
will tell you euery thing as it fell out

   Qu. Let vs heare, sweet Bottome

   Bot. Not a word of me: all that I will tell you, is, that
the Duke hath dined. Get your apparell together, good
strings to your beards, new ribbands to your pumps,
meete presently at the Palace, euery man looke ore his
part: for the short and the long is, our play is preferred:
In any case let Thisby haue cleane linnen: and let not him
that playes the Lion, paire his nailes, for they shall hang
out for the Lions clawes. And most deare Actors, eate
no Onions, nor Garlicke; for wee are to vtter sweete
breath, and I doe not doubt but to heare them say, it is a
sweet Comedy. No more words: away, go away.

Exeunt.


Actus Quintus.

Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords.

  Hip. 'Tis strange my Theseus, y these louers speake of

   The. More strange then true. I neuer may beleeue
These anticke fables, nor these Fairy toyes,
Louers and mad men haue such seething braines,
Such shaping phantasies, that apprehend more
Then coole reason euer comprehends.
The Lunaticke, the Louer, and the Poet,
Are of imagination all compact.
One sees more diuels then vaste hell can hold;
That is the mad man. The Louer, all as franticke,
Sees Helens beauty in a brow of Egipt.
The Poets eye in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance
From heauen to earth, from earth to heauen.
And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things
Vnknowne; the Poets pen turnes them to shapes,
And giues to aire nothing, a locall habitation,
And a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination,
That if it would but apprehend some ioy,
It comprehends some bringer of that ioy.
Or in the night, imagining some feare,
Howe easie is a bush suppos'd a Beare?
  Hip. But all the storie of the night told ouer,
And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
More witnesseth than fancies images,
And growes to something of great constancie;
But howsoeuer, strange, and admirable.
Enter louers, Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.

  The. Heere come the louers, full of ioy and mirth:
Ioy, gentle friends, ioy and fresh dayes
Of loue accompany your hearts

   Lys. More then to vs, waite in your royall walkes,
your boord, your bed

   The. Come now, what maskes, what dances shall
we haue,
To weare away this long age of three houres,
Between our after supper, and bed-time?
Where is our vsuall manager of mirth?
What Reuels are in hand? Is there no play,
To ease the anguish of a torturing houre?
Call Egeus

   Ege. Heere mighty Theseus

   The. Say, what abridgement haue you for this euening?
What maske? What musicke? How shall we beguile
The lazie time, if not with some delight?
  Ege. There is a breefe how many sports are rife:
Make choise of which your Highnesse will see first

   Lis. The battell with the Centaurs to be sung
By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe

   The. Wee'l none of that. That haue I told my Loue
In glory of my kinsman Hercules

   Lis. The riot of the tipsie Bachanals,
Tearing the Thracian singer, in their rage?
  The. That is an old deuice, and it was plaid
When I from Thebes came last a Conqueror

   Lis. The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death
of learning, late deceast in beggerie

   The. That is some Satire keene and criticall,
Not sorting with a nuptiall ceremonie

   Lis. A tedious breefe Scene of yong Piramus,
And his loue Thisby; very tragicall mirth

   The. Merry and tragicall? Tedious, and briefe? That
is, hot ice, and wondrous strange snow. How shall wee
finde the concord of this discord?
  Ege. A play there is, my Lord, some ten words long,
Which is as breefe, as I haue knowne a play;
But by ten words, my Lord, it is too long;
Which makes it tedious. For in all the play,
There is not one word apt, one Player fitted.
And tragicall my noble Lord it is: for Piramus
Therein doth kill himselfe. Which when I saw
Rehearst, I must confesse, made mine eyes water:
But more merrie teares, the passion of loud laughter
Neuer shed

   Thes. What are they that do play it?
  Ege. Hard handed men, that worke in Athens heere,
Which neuer labour'd in their mindes till now;
And now haue toyled their vnbreathed memories
With this same play, against your nuptiall

   The. And we will heare it

   Hip. No my noble Lord, it is not for you. I haue heard
It ouer, and it is nothing, nothing in the world;
Vnless you can finde sport in their intents,
Extreamely stretched, and cond with cruell paine,
To doe you seruice

   Thes. I will heare that play. For neuer any thing
Can be amisse, when simplenesse and duty tender it.
Goe bring them in, and take your places, Ladies

   Hip. I loue not to see wretchednesse orecharged;
And duty in his seruice perishing

   Thes. Why gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing

   Hip. He saies, they can doe nothing in this kinde

   Thes. The kinder we, to giue them thanks for nothing
Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake;
And what poore duty cannot doe, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I haue come, great Clearkes haue purposed
To greete me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I haue seene them shiuer and looke pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiz'd accent in their feares,
And in conclusion, dumbly haue broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me sweete,
Out of this silence yet, I pickt a welcome:
And in the modesty of fearefull duty,
I read as much, as from the ratling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Loue therefore, and tongue-tide simplicity,
In least, speake most, to my capacity

   Egeus. So please your Grace, the Prologue is addrest

   Duke. Let him approach.

Flor. Trum.

Enter the Prologue. Quince.

  Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.
That you should thinke, we come not to offend,
But with good will. To shew our simple skill,
That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then, we come but in despight.
We do not come, as minding to content you,
Our true intent is. All for your delight,
We are not heere. That you should here repent you,
The Actors are at hand; and by their show,
You shall know all, that you are like to know

   Thes. This fellow doth not stand vpon points

   Lys. He hath rid his Prologue, like a rough Colt: he
knowes not the stop. A good morall my lord. it is not
enough to speake, but to speake true

   Hip. Indeed hee hath plaid on his Prologue, like a
childe on a Recorder, a sound, but not in gouernment

   Thes. His speech was like a tangled chaine: nothing
impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?

Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.

Enter Pyramus and Thisby, Wall, Moone-shine, and Lyon.

  Prol. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show,
But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine.
This man is Piramus, if you would know;
This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine.
This man, with lyme and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile wall, which did these louers sunder:
And through walls chink (poor soules) they are content
To whisper. At the which, let no man wonder.
This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and bush of thorne,
Presenteth moone-shine. For if you will know,
By moone-shine did these Louers thinke no scorne
To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe:
This grizly beast (which Lyon hight by name)
The trusty Thisby, comming first by night,
Did scarre away, or rather did affright:
And as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did staine.
Anon comes Piramus, sweet youth and tall,
And findes his Thisbies Mantle slaine;
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade,
He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breast,
And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
Let Lyon, Moone-shine, Wall, and Louers twaine,
At large discourse, while here they doe remaine.

Exit all but Wall.

  Thes. I wonder if the Lion be to speake

   Deme. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when
many Asses doe.

Exit Lyon, Thisbie, and Mooneshine.

  Wall. In this same Interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snowt (by name) present a wall:
And such a wall, as I would haue you thinke,
That had in it a crannied hole or chinke:
Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie
Did whisper often, very secretly.
This loame, this rough-cast, and this stone doth shew,
That I am that same Wall; the truth is so.
And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
Through which the fearfull Louers are to whisper

   Thes. Would you desire Lime and Haire to speake
better?
  Deme. It is the wittiest partition, that euer I heard
discourse, my Lord

   Thes. Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, silence.
Enter Pyramus.

  Pir. O grim lookt night, o night with hue so blacke,
O night, which euer art, when day is not:
O night, o night, alacke, alacke, alacke,
I feare my Thisbies promise is forgot.
And thou o wall, thou sweet and louely wall,
That stands between her fathers ground and mine,
Thou wall, o Wall, o sweet and louely wall,
Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through with mine eine.
Thankes courteous wall. Ioue shield thee well for this.
But what see I? No Thisbie doe I see.
O wicked wall, through whom I see no blisse,
Curst be thy stones for thus deceiuing mee

   Thes. The wall me-thinkes being sensible, should
curse againe

   Pir. No in truth sir, he should not. Deceiuing me,
Is Thisbies cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy
Her through the wall. You shall see it will fall.
Enter Thisbie.

Pat as I told you; yonder she comes

   This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my mones,
For parting my faire Piramus, and me
My cherry lips haue often kist thy stones;
Thy stones with Lime and Haire knit vp in thee

   Pyra. I see a voyce; now will I to the chinke,
To spy and I can heare my Thisbies face. Thisbie?
  This. My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke

   Pir. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Louers grace,
And like Limander am I trusty still

   This. And like Helen till the Fates me kill

   Pir. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true

   This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you

   Pir. O kisse me through the hole of this vile wall

   This. I kisse the wals hole, not your lips at all

   Pir. Wilt thou at Ninnies tombe meete me straight
way?
  This. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay

   Wall. Thus haue I Wall, my part discharged so;
And being done, thus Wall away doth go.

Exit Clow.

  Du. Now is the morall downe between the two
Neighbours

   Dem. No remedie my Lord, when Wals are so wilfull,
to heare without warning

   Dut. This is the silliest stuffe that ere I heard

   Du. The best in this kind are but shadowes, and the
worst are no worse, if imagination amend them

   Dut. It must be your imagination then, & not theirs

   Duk. If wee imagine no worse of them then they of
themselues, they may passe for excellent men. Here com
two noble beasts, in a man and a Lion.
Enter Lyon and Moone-shine

   Lyon. You Ladies, you (whose gentle harts do feare
The smallest monstrous mouse that creepes on floore)
May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere,
When Lion rough in wildest rage doth roare.
Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am
A Lion fell, nor else no Lions dam:
For if I should as Lion come in strife
Into this place, 'twere pittie of my life

   Du. A verie gentle beast, and of good conscience

   Dem. The verie best at a beast, my Lord, y ere I saw

   Lis. This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor

   Du. True, and a Goose for his discretion

   Dem. Not so my Lord: for his valor cannot carrie
his discretion, and the fox carries the Goose

   Du. His discretion I am sure cannot carrie his valor:
for the Goose carries not the Fox. It is well; leaue it to
his discretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone

   Moone. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone present

   De. He should haue worne the hornes on his head

   Du. Hee is no crescent, and his hornes are inuisible,
within the circumference

   Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moone present:
My selfe, the man i'th Moone doth seeme to be

   Du. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man
Should be put into the Lanthorne. How is it els the man
i'th Moone?
  Dem. He dares not come there for the candle.
For you see, it is already in snuffe

   Dut. I am wearie of this Moone; would he would
change

   Du. It appeares by his smal light of discretion, that
he is in the wane: but yet in courtesie, in all reason, we
must stay the time

   Lys. Proceed Moone

   Moon. All that I haue to say, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this
thorne bush; my thorne bush; and this dog, my dog

   Dem. Why all these should be in the Lanthorne: for
they are in the Moone. But silence, heere comes Thisby.
Enter Thisby.

  This. This is old Ninnies tombe: where is my loue?
  Lyon. Oh.

The Lion roares, Thisby runs off.

  Dem. Well roar'd Lion

   Du. Well run Thisby

   Dut. Well shone Moone.
Truly the Moone shines with a good grace

   Du. Wel mouz'd Lion

   Dem. And then came Piramus

   Lys. And so the Lion vanisht.
Enter Piramus.

  Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy sunny beames,
I thanke thee Moone, for shining now so bright:
For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames,
I trust to taste of truest Thisbies sight.
But stay: O spight! but marke, poore Knight,
What dreadful dole is heere?
Eyes do you see! How can it be!
O dainty Ducke: O Deere!
Thy mantle good; what staind with blood!
Approch you furies fell:
O Fates! come, come: Cut thred and thrum,
Quaile, crush, conclude, and quell

   Du. This passion, and the death of a deare friend,
Would go neere to make a man looke sad

   Dut. Beshrew my heart, but I pittie the man

   Pir. O wherefore Nature, did'st thou Lions frame?
Since lion vilde hath heere deflour'd my deere:
Which is: no, no, which was the fairest Dame
That liu'd, that lou'd, that like'd, that look'd with cheere.
Come teares, confound: Out sword, and wound
The pap of Piramus:
I, that left pap, where heart doth hop;
Thus dye I, thus, thus, thus.
Now am I dead, now am I fled, my soule is in the sky,
Tongue lose thy light, Moone take thy flight,
Now dye, dye, dye, dye, dye

   Dem. No Die, but an ace for him; for he is but one

   Lis. Lesse then an ace man. For he is dead, he is nothing

   Du. With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet recouer,
and proue an Asse

   Dut. How chance Moone-shine is gone before?
Thisby comes backe, and findes her Louer.
Enter Thisby.

  Duke. She wil finde him by starre-light.
Heere she comes, and her passion ends the play

   Dut. Me thinkes shee should not vse a long one for
such a Piramus: I hope she will be breefe

   Dem. A Moth wil turne the ballance, which Piramus
which Thisby is the better

   Lys. She hath spyed him already, with those sweete eyes

   Dem. And thus she meanes, videlicit

   This. Asleepe my Loue? What, dead my Doue?
O Piramus arise:
Speake, speake. Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A tombe
Must couer thy sweet eyes.
These Lilly Lips, this cherry nose,
These yellow Cowslip cheekes
Are gone, are gone: Louers make mone:
His eyes were greene as Leekes.
O Sisters three, come, come to mee,
With hands as pale as Milke,
Lay them in gore, since you haue shore
with sheeres, his thred of silke.
Tongue not a word: Come trusty sword:
Come blade, my brest imbrue:
And farwell friends, thus Thisbie ends;
Adieu, adieu, adieu

   Duk. Moone-shine & Lion are left to burie the dead

   Deme. I, and Wall too

   Bot. No, I assure you, the wall is downe, that parted
their Fathers. Will it please you to see the Epilogue, or
to heare a Bergomask dance, betweene two of our company?
  Duk. No Epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs
no excuse. Neuer excuse; for when the plaiers are all
dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if hee that
writ it had plaid Piramus, and hung himselfe in Thisbies
garter, it would haue beene a fine Tragedy: and so it is
truely, and very notably discharg'd. but come, your
Burgomaske; let your Epilogue alone.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelue.
Louers to bed, 'tis almost Fairy time.
I feare we shall out-sleepe the comming morne,
As much as we this night haue ouer-watcht.
This palpable grosse play hath well beguil'd
The heauy gate of night. Sweet friends to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity.
In nightly Reuels; and new iollitie.

Exeunt.

Enter Pucke.

  Puck. Now the hungry Lyons rores,
And the Wolfe beholds the Moone:
Whilest the heauy ploughman snores,
All with weary taske fore-done.
Now the wasted brands doe glow,
Whil'st the scritch-owle, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe,
In remembrance of a shrowd.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graues, all gaping wide,
Euery one lets forth his spright,
In the Church-way paths to glide,
And we Fairies, that do runne,
By the triple Hecates teame,
From the presence of the Sunne,
Following darkenesse like a dreame,
Now are frollicke; not a Mouse
Shall disturbe this hallowed house.
I am sent with broome before,
To sweep the dust behinde the doore.
Enter King and Queene of Fairies, with their traine.

  Ob. Through the house giue glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsie fier,
Euerie Elfe and Fairie spright,
Hop as light as bird from brier,
And this Ditty after me, sing and dance it trippinglie,
  Tita. First rehearse this song by roate,
To each word a warbling note.
Hand in hand, with Fairie grace,
Will we sing and blesse this place.

The Song.

Now vntill the breake of day,
Through this house each Fairy stray.
To the best Bride-bed will we,
Which by vs shall blessed be:
And the issue there create,
Euer shall be fortunate:
So shall all the couples three,
Euer true in louing be:
And the blots of Natures hand,
Shall not in their issue stand.
Neuer mole, harelip, nor scarre,
nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in Natiuitie,
Shall vpon their children be.
With this field dew consecrate,
Euery Fairy take his gate,
And each seuerall chamber blesse,
Through this Pallace with sweet peace,
Euer shall in safety rest.
And the owner of it blest.
Trip away, make no stay;
Meet me all by breake of day

   Robin. If we shadowes haue offended,
Thinke but this (and all is mended)
That you haue but slumbred heere,
While these Visions did appeare.
And this weake and idle theame,
No more yeelding but a dreame,
Gentles, doe not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
And as I am an honest Pucke,
If we haue vnearned lucke,
Now to scape the Serpents tongue,
We will make amends ere long:
Else the Pucke a lyar call.
So good night vnto you all.
Giue me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

FINIS. A MIDSOMMER Nights Dreame.


The Merchant of Venice

Actus primus.

Enter Anthonio, Salarino, and Salanio.

  Anthonio. In sooth I know not why I am so sad,
It wearies me: you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuffe 'tis made of, whereof it is borne,
I am to learne: and such a Want-wit sadnesse makes of
mee,
That I haue much ado to know my selfe

   Sal. Your minde is tossing on the Ocean,
There where your Argosies with portly saile
Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the sea,
Do ouer-peere the pettie Traffiquers
That curtsie to them, do them reuerence
As they flye by them with their wouen wings

   Salar. Beleeue me sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections, would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grasse to know where sits the winde,
Peering in Maps for ports, and peers, and rodes:
And euery obiect that might make me feare
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me sad

   Sal. My winde cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harme a winde too great might doe at sea.
I should not see the sandie houre-glasse runne,
But I should thinke of shallows, and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew docks in sand,
Vailing her high top lower then her ribs
To kisse her buriall; should I goe to Church
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethinke me straight of dangerous rocks,
Which touching but my gentle Vessels side
Would scatter all her spices on the streame,
Enrobe the roring waters with my silkes,
And in a word, but euen now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I haue the thought
To thinke on this, and shall I lacke the thought
That such a thing bechaunc'd would make me sad?
But tell me, I know Anthonio
Is sad to thinke vpon his merchandize

   Anth. Beleeue me no, I thanke my fortune for it,
My ventures are not in one bottome trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Vpon the fortune of this present yeere:
Therefore my merchandize makes me not sad

   Sola. Why then you are in loue

   Anth. Fie, fie

   Sola. Not in loue neither: then let vs say you are sad
Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easie
For you to laugh and leape, and say you are merry
Because you are not sad. Now by two-headed Ianus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellowes in her time:
Some that will euermore peepe through their eyes,
And laugh like Parrats at a bag-piper.
And other of such vineger aspect,
That they'll not shew their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor sweare the iest be laughable.
Enter Bassanio, Lorenso, and Gratiano.

  Sola. Heere comes Bassanio,
Your most noble Kinsman,
Gratiano, and Lorenso. Faryewell,
We leaue you now with better company

   Sala. I would haue staid till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not preuented me

   Ant. Your worth is very deere in my regard.
I take it your owne busines calls on you,
And you embrace th' occasion to depart

   Sal. Good morrow my good Lords

   Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when?
You grow exceeding strange: must it be so?
  Sal. Wee'll make our leysures to attend on yours.

Exeunt. Salarino, and Solanio.

  Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you haue found Anthonio
We two will leaue you, but at dinner time
I pray you haue in minde where we must meete

   Bass. I will not faile you

   Grat. You looke not well signior Anthonio,
You haue too much respect vpon the world:
They loose it that doe buy it with much care,
Beleeue me you are maruellously chang'd

   Ant. I hold the world but as the world Gratiano,
A stage, where euery man must play a part,
And mine a sad one

   Grati. Let me play the foole,
With mirth and laughter let old wrinckles come,
And let my Liuer rather heate with wine,
Then my heart coole with mortifying grones.
Why should a man whose bloud is warme within,
Sit like his Grandsire, cut in Alablaster?
Sleepe when he wakes? and creep into the Iaundies
By being peeuish? I tell thee what Anthonio,
I loue thee, and it is my loue that speakes:
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do creame and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a wilfull stilnesse entertaine,
With purpose to be drest in an opinion
Of wisedome, grauity, profound conceit,
As who should say, I am sir an Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dogge barke.
O my Anthonio, I do know of these
That therefore onely are reputed wise,
For saying nothing; when I am verie sure
If they should speake, would almost dam those eares
Which hearing them would call their brothers fooles:
Ile tell thee more of this another time.
But fish not with this melancholly baite
For this foole Gudgin, this opinion:
Come good Lorenzo, faryewell a while,
Ile end my exhortation after dinner

   Lor. Well, we will leaue you then till dinner time.
I must be one of these same dumbe wise men.
For Gratiano neuer let's me speake

   Gra. Well, keepe me company but two yeares mo,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine owne tongue

   Ant. Far you well, Ile grow a talker for this geare

   Gra. Thankes ifaith, for silence is onely commendable
In a neats tongue dri'd, and a maid not vendible.
Enter.

  Ant. It is that any thing now

   Bas. Gratiano speakes an infinite deale of nothing,
more then any man in all Venice, his reasons are two
graines of wheate hid in two bushels of chaffe: you shall
seeke all day ere you finde them, & when you haue them
they are not worth the search

   An. Well: tel me now, what Lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret Pilgrimage
That you to day promis'd to tel me of?
  Bas. Tis not vnknowne to you Anthonio
How much I haue disabled mine estate,
By something shewing a more swelling port
Then my faint meanes would grant continuance:
Nor do I now make mone to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate, but my cheefe care
Is to come fairely off from the great debts
Wherein my time something too prodigall
Hath left me gag'd: to you Anthonio
I owe the most in money, and in loue,
And from your loue I haue a warrantie
To vnburthen all my plots and purposes,
How to get cleere of all the debts I owe

   An. I pray you good Bassanio let me know it,
And if it stand as you your selfe still do,
Within the eye of honour, be assur'd
My purse, my person, my extreamest meanes
Lye all vnlock'd to your occasions

   Bass. In my schoole dayes, when I had lost one shaft
I shot his fellow of the selfesame flight
The selfesame way, with more aduised watch
To finde the other forth, and by aduenturing both,
I oft found both. I vrge this child-hoode proofe,
Because what followes is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and like a wilfull youth,
That which I owe is lost: but if you please
To shoote another arrow that selfe way
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the ayme: Or to finde both,
Or bring your latter hazard backe againe,
And thankfully rest debter for the first

   An. You know me well, and herein spend but time
To winde about my loue with circumstance,
And out of doubt you doe more wrong
In making question of my vttermost
Then if you had made waste of all I haue:
Then doe but say to me what I should doe
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest vnto it: therefore speake

   Bass. In Belmont is a Lady richly left,
And she is faire, and fairer then that word,
Of wondrous vertues, sometimes from her eyes
I did receiue faire speechlesse messages:
Her name is Portia, nothing vndervallewd
To Cato's daughter, Brutus Portia,
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For the four windes blow in from euery coast
Renowned sutors, and her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,
Which makes her seat of Belmont Cholchos strond,
And many Iasons come in quest of her.
O my Anthonio, had I but the meanes
To hold a riuall place with one of them,
I haue a minde presages me such thrift,
That I should questionlesse be fortunate

   Anth. Thou knowst that all my fortunes are at sea,
Neither haue I money, nor commodity
To raise a present summe, therefore goe forth
Try what my credit can in Venice doe,
That shall be rackt euen to the vttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont to faire Portia.
Goe presently enquire, and so will I
Where money is, and I no question make
To haue it of my trust, or for my sake.

Exeunt.

Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa.

  Portia. By my troth Nerrissa, my little body is a wearie
of this great world

   Ner. You would be sweet Madam, if your miseries
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are:
and yet for ought I see, they are as sicke that surfet with
too much, as they that starue with nothing; it is no smal
happinesse therefore to bee seated in the meane, superfluitie
comes sooner by white haires, but competencie
liues longer

   Portia. Good sentences, and well pronounc'd

   Ner. They would be better if well followed

   Portia. If to doe were as easie as to know what were
good to doe, Chappels had beene Churches, and poore
mens cottages Princes Pallaces: it is a good Diuine that
followes his owne instructions; I can easier teach twentie
what were good to be done, then be one of the twentie
to follow mine owne teaching: the braine may deuise
lawes for the blood, but a hot temper leapes ore a
colde decree, such a hare is madnesse the youth, to skip
ore the meshes of good counsaile the cripple; but this
reason is not in fashion to choose me a husband: O mee,
the word choose, I may neither choose whom I would,
nor refuse whom I dislike, so is the wil of a liuing daughter
curb'd by the will of a dead father: it is not hard Nerrissa,
that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none

   Ner. Your father was euer vertuous, and holy men
at their death haue good inspirations, therefore the lotterie
that hee hath deuised in these three chests of gold,
siluer, and leade, whereof who chooses his meaning,
chooses you, wil no doubt neuer be chosen by any rightly,
but one who you shall rightly loue: but what warmth
is there in your affection towards any of these Princely
suters that are already come?
  Por. I pray thee ouer-name them, and as thou namest
them, I will describe them, and according to my description
leuell at my affection

   Ner. First there is the Neopolitane Prince

   Por. I that's a colt indeede, for he doth nothing but
talke of his horse, and hee makes it a great appropriation
to his owne good parts that he can shoo him himselfe:
I am much afraid my Ladie his mother plaid false
with a Smyth

   Ner. Than is there the Countie Palentine

   Por. He doth nothing but frowne (as who should
say, and you will not haue me, choose: he heares merrie
tales and smiles not, I feare hee will proue the weeping
Phylosopher when he growes old, being so full of vnmannerly
sadnesse in his youth.) I had rather to be married
to a deaths head with a bone in his mouth, then to either
of these: God defend me from these two

   Ner. How say you by the French Lord, Mounsier
Le Boune?
  Por. God made him, and therefore let him passe for a
man, in truth I know it is a sinne to be a mocker, but he,
why he hath a horse better then the Neopolitans, a better
bad habite of frowning then the Count Palentine, he
is euery man in no man, if a Trassell sing, he fals straight
a capring, he will fence with his owne shadow. If I should
marry him, I should marry twentie husbands: if hee
would despise me, I would forgiue him, for if he loue me
to madnesse, I should neuer requite him

   Ner. What say you then to Fauconbridge, the yong
Baron of England?
  Por. You know I say nothing to him, for hee vnderstands
not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latine, French,
nor Italian, and you will come into the Court & sweare
that I haue a poore pennie-worth in the English: hee is a
proper mans picture, but alas who can conuerse with a
dumbe show? how odly he is suited, I thinke he bought
his doublet in Italie, his round hose in France, his bonnet
in Germanie, and his behauiour euery where

   Ner. What thinke you of the other Lord his neighbour?
  Por. That he hath a neighbourly charitie in him, for
he borrowed a boxe of the eare of the Englishman, and
swore he would pay him againe when hee was able: I
thinke the Frenchman became his suretie, and seald vnder
for another

   Ner. How like you the yong Germaine, the Duke of
Saxonies Nephew?
  Por. Very vildely in the morning when hee is sober,
and most vildely in the afternoone when hee is drunke:
when he is best, he is a little worse then a man, and when
he is worst, he is little better then a beast: and the worst
fall that euer fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without
him

   Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right
Casket, you should refuse to performe your Fathers will,
if you should refuse to accept him

   Por. Therefore for feare of the worst, I pray thee set
a deepe glasse of Reinish-wine on the contrary Casket,
for if the diuell be within, and that temptation without,
I know he will choose it. I will doe any thing Nerrissa
ere I will be married to a spunge

   Ner. You neede not feare Lady the hauing any of
these Lords, they haue acquainted me with their determinations,
which is indeede to returne to their home,
and to trouble you with no more suite, vnlesse you may
be won by some other sort then your Fathers imposition,
depending on the Caskets

   Por. If I liue to be as olde as Sibilla, I will dye as
chaste as Diana: vnlesse I be obtained by the manner
of my Fathers will: I am glad this parcell of wooers
are so reasonable, for there is not one among them but
I doate on his verie absence: and I wish them a faire departure

   Ner. Doe you not remember Ladie in your Fathers
time, a Venecian, a Scholler and a Souldior that
came hither in companie of the Marquesse of Mountferrat?
  Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio, as I thinke, so was hee
call'd

   Ner. True Madam, hee of all the men that euer my
foolish eyes look'd vpon, was the best deseruing a faire
Lady

   Por. I remember him well, and I remember him worthy
of thy praise.
Enter a Seruingman.

  Ser. The four Strangers seeke you Madam to take
their leaue: and there is a fore-runner come from a fift,
the Prince of Moroco, who brings word the Prince his
Maister will be here to night

   Por. If I could bid the fift welcome with so good
heart as I can bid the other foure farewell, I should be
glad of his approach: if he haue the condition of a Saint,
and the complexion of a diuell, I had rather hee should
shriue me then wiue me. Come Nerrissa, sirra go before;
whiles wee shut the gate vpon one wooer, another
knocks at the doore.

Exeunt.

Enter Bassanio with Shylocke the Iew.

  Shy. Three thousand ducates, well

   Bass. I sir, for three months

   Shy. For three months, well

   Bass. For the which, as I told you,
Anthonio shall be bound

   Shy. Anthonio shall become bound, well

   Bass. May you sted me? Will you pleasure me?
Shall I know your answere

   Shy. Three thousand ducats for three months,
and Anthonio bound

   Bass. Your answere to that

   Shy. Anthonio is a good man

   Bass. Haue you heard any imputation to the contrary

   Shy. Ho no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a
good man, is to haue you vnderstand me that he is sufficient,
yet his meanes are in supposition: he hath an Argosie
bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies, I vnderstand
moreouer vpon the Ryalta, he hath a third at Mexico,
a fourth for England, and other ventures hee hath
squandred abroad, but ships are but boords, Saylers but
men, there be land rats, and water rats, water theeues,
and land theeues, I meane Pyrats, and then there is the
perrill of waters, windes, and rocks: the man is not withstanding
sufficient, three thousand ducats, I thinke I may
take his bond

   Bas. Be assured you may

   Iew. I will be assured I may: and that I may be assured,
I will bethinke mee, may I speake with Anthonio?
  Bass. If it please you to dine with vs

   Iew. Yes, to smell porke, to eate of the habitation
which your Prophet the Nazarite coniured the diuell
into: I will buy with you, sell with you, talke with
you, walke with you, and so following: but I will
not eate with you, drinke with you, nor pray with you.
What newes on the Ryalta, who is he comes here?
Enter Anthonio.

  Bass. This is signior Anthonio

   Iew. How like a fawning publican he lookes.
I hate him for he is a Christian:
But more, for that in low simplicitie
He lends out money gratis, and brings downe
The rate of vsance here with vs in Venice.
If I can catch him once vpon the hip,
I will feede fat the ancient grudge I beare him.
He hates our sacred Nation, and he railes
Euen there where Merchants most doe congregate
On me, my bargaines, and my well-worne thrift,
Which he cals interrest: Cursed by my Trybe
If I forgiue him

   Bass. Shylock, doe you heare

   Shy. I am debating of my present store,
And by the neere gesse of my memorie
I cannot instantly raise vp the grosse
Of full three thousand ducats: what of that?
Tuball a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe
Will furnish me: but soft, how many months
Doe you desire? Rest you faire good signior,
Your worship was the last man in our mouthes

   Ant. Shylocke, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking, nor by giuing of excesse,
Yet to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
Ile breake a custome: is he yet possest
How much he would?
  Shy. I, I, three thousand ducats

   Ant. And for three months

   Shy. I had forgot, three months, you told me so.
Well then, your bond: and let me see, but heare you,
Me thoughts you said, you neither lend nor borrow
Vpon aduantage

   Ant. I doe neuer vse it

   Shy. When Iacob graz'd his vncle Labans sheepe,
This Iacob from our holy Abram was
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalfe)
The third possesser; I, he was the third

   Ant. And what of him, did he take interrest?
  Shy. No, not take interest, not as you would say
Directly interest, marke what Iacob did,
When Laban and himselfe were compremyz'd
That all the eanelings which were streakt and pied
Should fall as Iacobs hier, the Ewes being rancke,
In end of Autumne turned to the Rammes,
And when the worke of generation was
Betweene these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilfull shepheard pil'd me certaine wands,
And in the dooing of the deede of kinde,
He stucke them vp before the fulsome Ewes,
Who then conceauing, did in eaning time
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Iacobs.
This was a way to thriue, and he was blest:
And thrift is blessing if men steale it not

   Ant. This was a venture sir that Iacob seru'd for,
A thing not in his power to bring to passe,
But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heauen.
Was this inserted to make interrest good?
Or is your gold and siluer Ewes and Rams?
  Shy. I cannot tell, I make it breede as fast,
But note me signior

   Ant. Marke you this Bassanio,
The diuell can cite Scripture for his purpose,
An euill soule producing holy witnesse,
Is like a villaine with a smiling cheeke,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O what a goodly outside falsehood hath

   Shy. Three thousand ducats, 'tis a good round sum.
Three months from twelue, then let me see the rate

   Ant. Well Shylocke, shall we be beholding to you?
  Shy. Signior Anthonio, many a time and oft
In the Ryalto you haue rated me
About my monies and my vsances:
Still haue I borne it with a patient shrug,
(For suffrance is the badge of all our Tribe.)
You call me misbeleeuer, cut-throate dog,
And spet vpon my Iewish gaberdine,
And all for vse of that which is mine owne.
Well then, it now appeares you neede my helpe:
Goe to then, you come to me, and you say,
Shylocke, we would haue moneyes, you say so:
You that did voide your rume vpon my beard,
And foote me as you spurne a stranger curre
Ouer your threshold, moneyes is your suite.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a dog money? Is it possible
A curre should lend three thousand ducats? or
Shall I bend low, and in a bond-mans key
With bated breath, and whispring humblenesse,
Say this: Faire sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You cald me dog: and for these curtesies
Ile lend you thus much moneyes

   Ant. I am as like to call thee so againe,
To spet on thee againe, to spurne thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends, for when did friendship take
A breede of barraine mettall of his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemie,
Who if he breake, thou maist with better face
Exact the penalties

   Shy. Why looke you how you storme,
I would be friends with you, and haue your loue,
Forget the shames that you haue staind me with,
Supplie your present wants, and take no doite
Of vsance for my moneyes, and youle not heare me,
This is kinde I offer

   Bass. This were kindnesse

   Shy. This kindnesse will I showe,
Goe with me to a Notarie, seale me there
Your single bond, and in a merrie sport
If you repaie me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
Exprest in the condition, let the forfeite
Be nominated for an equall pound
Of your faire flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your bodie it pleaseth me

   Ant. Content infaith, Ile seale to such a bond,
And say there is much kindnesse in the Iew

   Bass. You shall not seale to such a bond for me,
Ile rather dwell in my necessitie

   Ant. Why feare not man, I will not forfaite it,
Within these two months, that's a month before
This bond expires, I doe expect returne
Of thrice three times the valew of this bond

   Shy. O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose owne hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others: Praie you tell me this,
If he should breake his daie, what should I gaine
By the exaction of the forfeiture?
A pound of mans flesh taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither
As flesh of Muttons, Beefes, or Goates, I say
To buy his fauour, I extend this friendship,
If he will take it, so: if not adiew,
And for my loue I praie you wrong me not

   Ant. Yes Shylocke, I will seale vnto this bond

   Shy. Then meete me forthwith at the Notaries,
Giue him direction for this merrie bond,
And I will goe and purse the ducats straite.
See to my house left in the fearefull gard
Of an vnthriftie knaue: and presentlie
Ile be with you.
Enter.

  Ant. Hie thee gentle Iew. This Hebrew will turne
Christian, he growes kinde

   Bass. I like not faire tearmes, and a villaines minde

   Ant. Come on, in this there can be no dismaie,
My Shippes come home a month before the daie.

Exeunt.


Actus Secundus.

Enter Morochus a tawnie Moore all in white, and three or foure
followers
accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa, and their traine. Flo. Cornets.

  Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadowed liuerie of the burnisht sunne,
To whom I am a neighbour, and neere bred.
Bring me the fairest creature North-ward borne,
Where Phoebus fire scarce thawes the ysicles,
And let vs make incision for your loue,
To proue whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee Ladie this aspect of mine
Hath feard the valiant, (by my loue I sweare)
The best regarded Virgins of our Clyme
Haue lou'd it to: I would not change this hue,
Except to steale your thoughts my gentle Queene