William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (157 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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DUMAINE As fair as day.
BIRON (
aside
)
aside
)
Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine.
DUMAINE O that I had my wishl
LONGUEVILLE (
aside
) And I had mine!
aside
) And I had mine!
KING (
aside
) And I mine too, good Lord!
aside
) And I mine too, good Lord!
BIRON (
aside
)
aside
)
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
DUMAINE
I would forget her, but a fever she
Reigns in my blood and will remembered be.
Reigns in my blood and will remembered be.
BIRON (
aside
)
aside
)
A fever in your blood—why then, incision
Would let her out in saucers—sweet misprision.
Would let her out in saucers—sweet misprision.
DUMAINE
Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
BIRON (
aside
)
aside
)
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
Dumaine reads his sonnet
DUMAINE
‘On a day—atack 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,
Wished himself the heavens’ 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 great Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop 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 Longueville
Were lovers too! Ill to example ill
Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note,
For none offend where all alike do dote.
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,
Wished himself the heavens’ 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 great Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop 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 Longueville
Were lovers too! Ill to example ill
Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note,
For none offend where all alike do dote.
LONGUEVILLE (
coming forward
)
coming forward
)
Dumaine, thy love is far from charity,
That in love’s grief desir‘st society.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
That in love’s grief desir‘st society.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
KING (
coming forward
)
coming forward
)
Come, sir, you blush. As his, your case is such.
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You do not love Maria? Longueville
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 marked 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 jovel’ the other cries.
One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other’s eyes.
(
To Longueville)
You would for paradise break faith and troth,
(
To Dumaine
) 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.
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You do not love Maria? Longueville
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 marked 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 jovel’ the other cries.
One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other’s eyes.
(
To Longueville)
You would for paradise break faith and troth,
(
To Dumaine
) 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 (
coming forward
)
coming forward
)
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
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?
(
To Longueville)
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 fool’ry 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 pushpin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumaine?
And, gentle Longueville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege’s? All about the breast.
A caudle, ho!
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?
(
To Longueville)
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 fool’ry 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 pushpin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumaine?
And, gentle Longueville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege’s? All about the breast.
A caudle, ho!
KING Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view?
BIRON
Not you to me, but I betrayed by you.
I that am honest, I that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men like you, men of inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme,
Or groan for Joan, 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?
I that am honest, I that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men like you, men of inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme,
Or groan for Joan, 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?
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 ⌉aquenetta with a letter, and Costard the clown
JAQUENETTA
God bless the King!
KING What present hast thou there?
COSTARD
Some certain treason.
KING What makes treason here?
COSTARD
Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
KING If it mar nothing neither,
The treason and you go in peace away together!
JAQUENETTA
I beseech your grace, let this letter be read.
Our parson misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
Our parson misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
KING Biron, read it over.
Biron takes and reads the letter
(
To Jaquenetta)
Where hadst thou it?
To Jaquenetta)
Where hadst thou it?
JAQUENETTA Of Costard.
KING (
to Costard
) Where hadst thou it?
to Costard
) Where hadst thou it?
COSTARD Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
Biron tears the letter
KING (
to Biron
)
to Biron
)
How now, what is in you? Why dost thou tear it?
BIRON
A toy, my liege, a toy. Your grace needs not fear it.
LONGUEVILLE
It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it.
DUMAINE (
taking up a piece of the letter
)
taking up a piece of the letter
)
It is Biron’s writing, and here is his name.
BIRON (
to Costard)
to Costard)
Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were born to do
me shamel
Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess.
me shamel
Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess.
KING What?
BIRON
That you three fools lacked me fool to make up the
mess.
He, he, and you-e’en you, my liege-and I
Are pickpurses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
mess.
He, he, and you-e’en you, my liege-and I
Are pickpurses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
DUMAINE
Now the number is even.
BIRON
True, true; we are four.
Will these turtles be gone?
KING
Hence, sirs; away.
COSTARD
Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
Exeunt Costard and Jaquenetta
BIRON
Sweet lords, sweet tovers!—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.
We cannot cross the cause why we were born,
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
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.
We cannot cross the cause why we were born,
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
KING
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 Ind
At the first op’ning 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?
That, like a rude and savage man of Ind
At the first op’ning 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 inspired thee now?
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon,
She an attending star, scarce seen a light.
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 culled 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 withered hermit fivescore winters worn
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
Beauty doth varnish age as if new-born,
And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy.
O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine.
O, but for my love, day would turn to night.
Of all complexions the culled 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 withered hermit fivescore winters worn
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
Beauty doth varnish age as if new-born,
And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy.
O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine.
KING
By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
BIRON
Is ebony like her? O word 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.
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.
KING
O paradox ! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons and the style of night,
And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
The hue of dungeons and the style of night,
And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
BIRON
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked,
It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect,
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.
O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked,
It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect,
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.
DUMAINE
To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
LONGUEVILLE
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
KING
And Ethiops of their sweet complexion crack.
DUMAINE
Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
BIRON
Your mistresses dare never come in rain,
For fear their colours should be washed away.
For fear their colours should be washed away.
KING
‘Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
BIRON
I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.
KING
No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
DUMAINE
I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
LONGUEVILLE (
showing his foot
)
showing his foot
)
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.
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread.
DUMAINE
O vile! Then as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walked overhead.
The street should see as she walked overhead.
KING
But what of this? Are we not all in love?
BIRON
Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn.
KING
Then leave this chat and, good Biron, now prove
Our loving lawful and our faith not torn.
Our loving lawful and our faith not torn.
DUMAINE
Ay, marry there, some flattery for this evil.
LONGUEVILLE
O, some authority how to proceed,
Some tricks, some quillets how to cheat the devil.
Some tricks, some quillets how to cheat the devil.
DUMAINE
Some salve for perjury.
BIRON
O, ‘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.
O, we have made a vow 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 enriched 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 stopped.
Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible
Than are the tender horns of cockled 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
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were tempered 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 aught 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 fulfils the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
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.
O, we have made a vow 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 enriched 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 stopped.
Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible
Than are the tender horns of cockled 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
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were tempered 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 aught 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 fulfils the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
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