The same.
[Enter BIRON, with a paper]
BIRON I will not love: if
I do, hang me; i’ faith, I will not. O, but her
eye,–by this light, but for her eye, I would not
love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing
in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By
heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme
and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme,
and here my melancholy. Here comes one
with a paper…
[Stands aside]
[Enter FERDINAND, with a paper]
FERDINAND Ay me!
BIRON [Aside] Shot, by heaven!
FERDINAND [Reads]
So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light…
[Steps aside]
What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
BIRON Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
[Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper]
LONGAVILLE Ay me, I am forsworn!
FERDINAND In love, I hope: sweet fellowship in shame!
LONGAVILLE O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
[Reads]
Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
‘Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
Exhalest this vapour-vow; in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To lose an oath to win a paradise?
BIRON This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity,
A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.
LONGAVILLE By whom shall I send this?–Company! stay.
[Steps aside]
BIRON All hid, all hid; an old infant play.
[Enter DUMAIN, with a paper]
DUMAIN O most divine Kate!
BIRON O most profane coxcomb!
DUMAIN O that I had my wish!
LONGAVILLE And I had mine!
FERDINAND And I mine too, good Lord!
BIRON Amen, so I had mine: is not that a good word?
DUMAIN Like a fever she
Reigns in my blood and will remember’d be.
DUMAIN Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
BIRON Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
DUMAIN [Reads]
On a day–alack the day!–
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, can passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish himself the heaven’s breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alack, my hand is sworn
Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn;
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet!
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.
This will I send, and something else more plain,
That shall express my true love’s fasting pain.
O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville,
Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note;
For none offend where all alike do dote.
LONGAVILLE [Advancing] Dumain,
thy love is far from charity.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
FERDINAND [Advancing] Come, sir, you blush;
as his your case is such;
You chide at him, offending twice as much;
You do not love Maria; Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush
And mark’d you both and for you both did blush:
I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion,
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other’s eyes:
[To LONGAVILLE]
You would for paradise break faith, and troth;
[To DUMAIN]
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
What will Biron say when that he shall hear
Faith so infringed, which such zeal did swear?
How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit!
How will he triumph, leap and laugh at it!
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
BIRON Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
[Advancing]
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me!
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
There is no certain princess that appears;
You’ll not be perjured, ’tis a hateful thing;
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!
But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o’ershot?
You found his mote; the king your mote did see;
But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?
And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege’s? all about the breast:
A caudle, ho!
FERDINAND Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betray’d thus to thy over-view?
BIRON Not you to me, but I betray’d by you:
I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in;
I am betray’d, by keeping company
With men like men of inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
Or groan for love? or spend a minute’s time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb?
FERDINAND Soft! whither away so fast?
A true man or a thief that gallops so?
BIRON I post from love: good lover, let me go.
[Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD]
JAQUENETTA God bless the king!
FERDINAND What present hast thou there?
COSTARD Some certain treason.
FERDINAND What makes treason here?
JAQUENETTA I beseech your grace, let this letter be read:
Our parson misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
FERDINAND Biron, read it over.
[Giving him the paper]
Where hadst thou it?
JAQUENETTA Of Costard.
FERDINAND Where hadst thou it?
COSTARD Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
[BIRON tears the letter]
FERDINAND How now! what is in you?
why dost thou tear it?
BIRON A toy, my liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it.
LONGAVILLE
It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it.
DUMAIN It is Biron’s writing, and here is his name.
[Gathering up the pieces]
BIRON [To COSTARD] Ah, you whoreson loggerhead!
you were born to do me shame.
Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess.
FERDINAND What?
BIRON
That you three fools lack’d me fool to make up the mess:
He, he, and you, and you, my liege, and I,
Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
DUMAIN Now the number is even.
BIRON True, true; we are four.
Will these turtles be gone?
FERDINAND Hence, sirs; away!
COSTARD Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
[Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA]
BIRON Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace!
As true we are as flesh and blood can be:
The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face;
Young blood doth not obey an old decree:
FERDINAND
What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
BIRON
Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline,
That, like a rude and savage man of Inde,
At the first opening of the gorgeous east,
Bows not his vassal head and strucken blind
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory eagle-sighted eye
Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
That is not blinded by her majesty?
FERDINAND What zeal, what fury hath inspired thee now?
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
She an attending star, scarce seen a light.
BIRON My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron:
O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine.
FERDINAND By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
BIRON Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,
If that she learn not of her eye to look:
No face is fair that is not full so black.
FERDINAND O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons and the suit of night;
And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
DUMAIN To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
LONGAVILLE
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
FERDINAND
And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
DUMAIN Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
BIRON Your mistresses dare never come in rain,
For fear their colours should be wash’d away.
FERDINAND
‘Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
I’ll find a fairer face not wash’d to-day.
BIRON I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.
FERDINAND No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
DUMAIN I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
LONGAVILLE Look, here’s thy love: my foot and her face see.
BIRON O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread!
DUMAIN O, vile! then, as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walk’d overhead.
FERDINAND But what of this? are we not all in love?
BIRON Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.
FERDINAND
Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove
Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
DUMAIN Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil.
LONGAVILLE O, some authority how to proceed;
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
DUMAIN Some salve for perjury.
BIRON ‘Tis more than need.
Have at you, then, affection’s men at arms.
Consider what you first did swear unto,
To fast, to study, and to see no woman;
Flat treason ‘gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young;
And abstinence engenders maladies.
And where that you have vow’d to study, lords,
And in that vow we have forsworn our books.
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
Of beauty’s tutors have enrich’d you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
And therefore, finding barren practisers,
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil:
But love, first learned in a lady’s eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But, with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power,
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye;
A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind;
A lover’s ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopp’d:
Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible
Than are the tender horns of cockl’d snails;
Love’s tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
For valour, is not Love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical
As bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his hair:
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were temper’d with Love’s sighs;
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain and nourish all the world:
Else none at all in ought proves excellent.
Then fools you were these women to forswear,
Or keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom’s sake, a word that all men love,
Or for love’s sake, a word that loves all men,
Or for men’s sake, the authors of these women,
Or women’s sake, by whom we men are men,
Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
It is religion to be thus forsworn,
For charity itself fulfills the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
FERDINAND Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!
BIRON Advance your standards, and upon them, lords;
Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advised,
In conflict that you get the sun of them.
LONGAVILLE Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
FERDINAND And win them too: therefore let us devise
Some entertainment for them in their tents.
BIRON First, from the park let us conduct them thither;
Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon
We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masks and merry hours
Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
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