King. 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 Or When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, King. 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. Jaq. God bless the king! Cost. Some certain treason. What present hast thou there? What makes treason here? Cost. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together. Our Jaq. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read; person misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said. King. Biron, read it over. Where hadst thou it? Jaq. Of Costard. [Giving him the letter. King. Where hadst thou it? Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it? Biron. A toy, my liege, a toy; your grace needs not fear it. Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it. Dum. It is Biron's writing, and here is his name. [Picks up the pieces. Biron. Ah, you loggerhead [To COSTARD], you were born to do me shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess ! King. What? Biron. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess: He, he, 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. Biron. Will these turtles be gone? King. True, true; we are four : Hence, sirs; away. Cost. 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 shew his face; King. What, did these rent lines shew 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 ? King. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd 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! Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek; Where several worthies make one dignity; Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not: To things of sale a seller's praise belongs; She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot. A wither'd hermit, fivescore winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye: And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. O, who can give an oath? where is a book, It mourns that painting and usurping hair, And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days; For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow. Dum. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black. Long. And since her time are colliers counted bright. King. And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack. Dum. 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. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. King. But what of this? Are we not all in love? Dum. Ay, marry, there ;-some flattery for this evil. Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. Biron. O, 'tis more than need!— Have at you then, affection's men at arms : And where that you hath vow'd to study, lords, K The nimble spirits in the arteries; Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? |