William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (160 page)
Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
MARIA
Name it.
DUMAINE Fair lady—
MARIA Say you so? Fair lord-
Take that for your ‘fair lady’.
DUMAINE
Please it you,
As much in private, and I’ll bid adieu.
Dumaine and Maria talk apart
CATHERINE
What, was your visor made without a tongue?
LONGUEVILLE (
taking Catherine for Maria
)
taking Catherine for Maria
)
I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
CATHERINE
O, for your reason ! Quickly, sir, I long.
LONGUEVILLE
You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless visor half.
And would afford my speechless visor half.
CATHERINE
‘Veal’, quoth the Dutchman. Is not veal a calf?
LONGUEVILLE
A calf, fair lady?
CATHERINE No, a fair lord calf.
LONGUEVILLE
Let’s part the word.
CATHERINE No, I’ll not be your half.
Take all and wean it, it may prove an ox.
LONGUEVILLE
Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks !
Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
CATHERINE
Then die a calf before your horns do grow.
LONGUEVILLE
One word in private with you ere I die.
CATHERINE
Bleat softly, then. The butcher hears you cry.
Longueville and Catherine talk apart
BOYET
The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor’s edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
Above the sense of sense; so sensible
Seemeth their conference. Their conceits have wings
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
As is the razor’s edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
Above the sense of sense; so sensible
Seemeth their conference. Their conceits have wings
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
ROSALINE
Not one word more, my maids. Break off, break off.
BIRON
By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
KING
Farewell, mad wenches, you have simple wits.
Exeunt the King, lords, and blackamoors
⌈The ladies unmask⌉
PRINCESS
Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?
BOYET
Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puffed out.
ROSALINE
Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
PRINCESS
O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout !
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight,
Or ever but in visors show their faces?
This pert Biron was out of count’nance quite.
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight,
Or ever but in visors show their faces?
This pert Biron was out of count’nance quite.
ROSALINE
Ah, they were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.
The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.
PRINCESS
Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
MARIA
Dumaine was at my service, and his sword.
‘Non point,’ quoth I. My servant straight was mute.
CATHERINE
Lord Longueville said I came o’er his heart,
And trow you what he called me?
And trow you what he called me?
PRINCESS
‘Qualm’, perhaps.
CATHERINE
Yes, in good faith.
PRINCESS
Go, sickness as thou art.
ROSALINE
Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.
But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.
PRINCESS
And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
CATHERINE
And Longueville was for my service born.
MARIA
Dumaine is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
BOYET
Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear.
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes, for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes, for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.
PRINCESS
Will they return?
BOYET They will, they will, God knows,
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows.
Therefore change favours, and when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
Therefore change favours, and when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
PRINCESS
How ‘blow’ ? How ‘blow’ ? Speak to be understood.
BOYET
Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud;
Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
PRINCESS
Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do
If they return in their own shapes to woo?
If they return in their own shapes to woo?
ROSALINE
Good madam, if by me you’ll be advised,
Let’s mock them still, as well known as disguised.
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguised like Muscovites in shapeless gear,
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penned,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.
Let’s mock them still, as well known as disguised.
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguised like Muscovites in shapeless gear,
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penned,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.
BOYET
Ladies, withdraw. The gallants are at hand.
PRINCESS
Whip, to our tents, as roes run over land!
Exeunt the ladies
Enter the King, Biron, Dumaine, and Longueville, as themselves
KING
Fair sir, God save you. Where’s the Princess?
BOYET
Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty
Command me any service to her thither?
Command me any service to her thither?
KING
That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
BOYET
I will, and so will she, I know, my lord. Exit
BIRON
This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons peas,
And utters it again when God doth please.
He is wit’s pedlar, and retails his wares
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs.
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve.
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
A can carve too, and lisp, why, this is he
That kissed his hand away in courtesy.
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,
That when he plays at tables chides the dice
In honourable terms. Nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly, and in ushering
Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet.
The stairs as he treads on them kiss his feet.
This is the flower that smiles on everyone
To show his teeth as white as whales bone,
And consciences that will not die in debt
Pay him the due of ‘honey-tongued’ Boyet.
And utters it again when God doth please.
He is wit’s pedlar, and retails his wares
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs.
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve.
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
A can carve too, and lisp, why, this is he
That kissed his hand away in courtesy.
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,
That when he plays at tables chides the dice
In honourable terms. Nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly, and in ushering
Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet.
The stairs as he treads on them kiss his feet.
This is the flower that smiles on everyone
To show his teeth as white as whales bone,
And consciences that will not die in debt
Pay him the due of ‘honey-tongued’ Boyet.
KING
A blister on his sweet tongue with my heart,
That put Armado’s page out of his part!
That put Armado’s page out of his part!
Enter the ladies and Boyet
BIRON
See where it comes. Behaviour, what wert thou
Till this madman showed thee, and what art thou
now ?
Till this madman showed thee, and what art thou
now ?
KING
All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
PRINCESS
‘Fair’ in ‘all hail’ is foul, as I conceive.
KING
Construe my speeches better, if you may.
PRINCESS
Then wish me better. I will give you leave.
KING
We came to visit you, and purpose now
To lead you to our court. Vouchsafe it, then.
To lead you to our court. Vouchsafe it, then.
PRINCESS
This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow.
Nor God nor I delights in perjured men.
Nor God nor I delights in perjured men.
KING
Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
PRINCESS
You nickname virtue. ‘Vice’ you should have spoke,
For virtue’s office never breaks men’s troth.
Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unsullied lily, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house’s guest,
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.
For virtue’s office never breaks men’s troth.
Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
As the unsullied lily, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house’s guest,
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.
KING
O, you have lived in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
PRINCESS
Not so, my lord. It is not so, I swear.
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game.
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game.
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
KING
How, madam? Russians?
PRINCESS
Ay, in truth, my lord.
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
ROSALINE
Madam, speak true.—It is not so, my lord.
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour,
And talked apace, and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools, but this I think:
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour,
And talked apace, and in that hour, my lord,
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools, but this I think:
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
BIRON
This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet,
Your wits makes wise things foolish. When we greet,
With eyes’ best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye,
By light we lose light. Your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.
Your wits makes wise things foolish. When we greet,
With eyes’ best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye,
By light we lose light. Your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.
ROSALINE
This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye—
BIRON
I am a fool, and full of poverty.
ROSALINE
But that you take what doth to you belong
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
BIRON
O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
ROSALINE
All the fool mine!
BIRON
I cannot give you less.
ROSALINE
Which of the visors was it that you wore?
BIRON
Where? When? What visor? Why demand you this?
ROSALINE
There, then, that visor, that superfluous case,
That hid the worse and showed the better face.
That hid the worse and showed the better face.
KING
(aside to the lords)
(aside to the lords)
We were descried. They’ll mock us now, downright.
DUMAINE
(aside to the King)
(aside to the King)
Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.
PRINCESS
Amazed, my lord? Why looks your highness sad?
ROSALINE
Help, hold his brows, he’ll swoon. Why look you
pale?
Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
pale?
Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
BIRON
Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?
Here stand I, lady. Dart thy skill at me—
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance,
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit,
And I will wish thee nevermore to dance,
Nor nevermore in Russian habit wait.
O, never will I trust to speeches penned,
Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue,
Nor never come in visor to my friend,
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper’s song.
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical-these summer flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forswear them, and I here protest,
By this white glove—how white the hand, God
knows!—
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.
And to begin, wench, so God help me, law!
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?
Here stand I, lady. Dart thy skill at me—
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance,
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit,
And I will wish thee nevermore to dance,
Nor nevermore in Russian habit wait.
O, never will I trust to speeches penned,
Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue,
Nor never come in visor to my friend,
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper’s song.
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical-these summer flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forswear them, and I here protest,
By this white glove—how white the hand, God
knows!—
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed
In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.
And to begin, wench, so God help me, law!
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
ROSALINE
Sans ‘sans’, I pray you.
BIRON
Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage. Bear with me, I am sick.
I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see.
Write ‘Lord have mercy on us’ on those three.
They are infected, in their hearts it lies.
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
These lords are visited, you are not free;
For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see.
I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see.
Write ‘Lord have mercy on us’ on those three.
They are infected, in their hearts it lies.
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
These lords are visited, you are not free;
For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see.
PRINCESS
No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
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