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SCENE I.-Another part of the Park.
Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.
Boyet. I know not; but, I think it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he shew'd a mounting mind.
For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice ;
Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak’st, the fairest shoot.
For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
Prin. What, what! first praise me, and again say, no ?
For. Yes, madam, fair.
Nay, never paint me now;
[Giving him money. Fair payment for foul words is more than due. For. Nothing but fair is that which you
Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
Prin. Only for praise : and praise we may afford
Cost. God dig-you-den all !1 Pray you, which is the head lady?
Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.
Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest ?
Cost. The thickest and the tallest! it is so ; truth is truth.
Prin. What's your will, sir ? what's your will ?
this capon. Boyet.
I am bound to serve.-
We will read it, I swear :
Boyet. [Reads.] “By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible ; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous; truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici ; which to anatomise in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar !), videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame : he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; why did he come? to see; why did he sce? to overcome : to whom came he? to the beggar; what saw he? the beggar; who overcame he? the beggar. The conclusion is victory : on whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd: on whose side ? the beggar's : The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose side? the king's?-no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison; thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce thy love? I could : shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags ? robes; for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.
Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
'Don ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' .
"Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
And he from forage will incline to play:
Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? What vane ? what weathercock ? did you ever hear better?
Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style.
Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court;
Thou, fellow, a word :
I told you ; my lord.
lord to my lady. Prin. From which lord to which lady?
Cost. From my Lord Biron, a good master of mine ; To a lady of France that he call’d Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. Here, sweet, put up this ; 'twill be thine another day.
[Exit Princess and train. Boyet. Who is the suitor ? who is the suitor ?4 Ros. Shall I teach you to know? Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. Ros.
Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off!
Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,
Ros. Well, then, I am the shooter.4
And who is your deer ? Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come near. Finely put on, indeed !
Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at
the brow. Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now?
Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?
Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinever 5 of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. 'Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
[Singing. Thou canst not hit it, my good man.' Boyet.
'An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
[Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant ! how both did fit it !
Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it. Wide o' the bow-hand ! i' faith, your hand is out.
Cost. Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he 'll ne'er hit the clout. She's too hard for you: challenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good-night, my good owl.
[Exeunt Boyer and MARIA.
[Shouting within.-Exit COSTARD, running.