Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. Study me how to please the eye indeed,

By fixing it upon a fairer eye; Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, And give him light that was it blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,

That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;

Small have continual plodders ever won,

Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they

are.

Too much to know, is, to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! [ceeding! Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proLong. He weeds the corn, and still let's grow the weeding.

Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding. Dum. How follows that?

Biron, duszy Fit in his place and time.
Dum. In reason nothing.
Biron.
Something then in rhyme.
Long. Biron is like an envious sneaping 1 frost,
That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
Biron. Well, say I am; why should proud
summer boast,

Before the birds have any cause to sing?
Why should I joy in an abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing, that in season grows.
So you, to study now it is too late.

Climb o'er the house t' unlock the little gate.
K. Well, sit you out: go home, Biron; adieu!
Biron. No, my good lord; I have sworn to
stay with you:

And, though I have for barbarism spoke more,
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore
And bide the penance of each three years' day.
Give me the paper, let me read the same;
And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name.
King. How well this yielding rescues thee
from shame!

Biron. [Reads.] Item, That no woman shall
come within a mile of my court.
And hath this been proclaim'd?
Long.

Four days ago,

Biron. Let's see the penalty. (Reads.On pain of losing her tongue.Who devis'd this?

Long. Marry, that did I Biron, Sweet lord, and why? [penalty. Long. To fright them hence with that dread Biron. A dangerous law against gentility. [Reads.] Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such publick shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.-1 Nipping.

This article, my liege, yourself must break; For, well you know, here comes in embassy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak,

A maid of grace, and complete majesty,— About surrender-up of Aquitain

To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father: Therefore this article is made in vain,

Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite forgot.

Biron. So study evermore is overshot; While it doth study to have what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should: And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, "Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost.

King. We must, of force, dispense with this She must be here on mere necessity. [decree; Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn, Three thousand times within this three years'

space:

For every man with his affects is born;
Not by might mastered, but by special grace:
If I break faith, this word shall speak for me,
I am forsworn on mere necessity.-
So to the laws at large I write my name:
[Subscribes.
And he, that breaks them in the least degree,
Stands in attainder of perpetual shame:
Suggestions are to others, as to me;
But, I believe, although I seem so loth.
I am the last that will last keep his oath.
But is there no quick recreation granted?

King. Ay, that there is: our court, you know,
With a refined traveller of Spain; (is haunted
A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain:
One, whom the musick of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony;
A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny:
This child of fancy, that Armado hight,2

For interim to our studies, shall relate, In high-born words, the worth of many a knight From tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate. How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; But, I protest, I love to hear him lie, And I will use him for my minstrelsy.

Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. Long. Costard the swain, and he, shall be our sport; And, so to study, three years is but short.

Enter Dull, with a letter, and Costard, Dull. Which is the duke's own person? Biron. This, fellow; What would'st? Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he.

Dull. Signior Arme-Arme-commends you. There's villany abroad; this letter will tell you more.

Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. 1 Temptations. 2 Called.

3 Constable.

Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses love not him. [Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.
Arm. Impossible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

M. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Moth. Then, I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three. Arm. True,

[Aside.

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere you'll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. To prove you a cipher. Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and, as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks, I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: What great men have been in love?

Moth. Hercules, master.

Arm. Most sweet Hercules !-More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage! for he carried the town-gates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love.

Arm. O well knit Samson! strong jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth? Moth. A woman, master.

Arm. Of what complexion?

Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two; or one of the four."

Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion? Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir.

Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.

Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit.

Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red.

Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. M. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue

assist me!

Arm, Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!

Moth. If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne'er be known;

For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale white shown:
Then, if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know;
For still her cheeks possess the same,
Which native she doth owe.1

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red,

Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.

Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind, Costard; she deserves well.

Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. [Aside. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light woman. Arm. I say sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past.

Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week: For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman.2 Fare you well.

A. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid.
Jaq. Man.

Arm, I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq. That's here-by.

Arm. I know where it is situate.
Jaq. How wise you are!

Arm. I will tell thee wonders.
Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

Jaq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell.

Jaq. Fair weather after you!
Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away.

[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir, I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see2 Dairy woman.

1 Own

Moth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and, therefore, I will say nothing; I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet.

[Exeunt Moth and Costard. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falsehood), if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Cupid's butt-shaft 2 is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for, am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.

Act Second. SCENE I.

A PAVILION, AND TENTS AT A DISTANCE. Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katherine, Boyet, Lords, and other Attendants. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits:

Consider who the king your father sends;
To whom he sends; and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem;
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain; a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though

but mean,

Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues;
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker.-Good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and, in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor:

Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,

On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Impórtunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend.
Like humbly-visaged suitors, his high will.
Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
[Exit.

P. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.-
Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
1 Lord. Longaville is one.
Prin.
Know you the man?
Mar. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast,
Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Falconbridge solemnized,
In Normandy saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,
(If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,)
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still
wills

It should none spare that come within his power. P. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Mar. They say so most, that most his humours know.

Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they Who are the rest?

[grow. Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth,

Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd:
Most
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
And shape to win grace though he hath no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report, to his great worthiness.

Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: If I have heard a truth,
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

P. Heaven bless my ladies! are they all in love; That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise; Mar. Here comes Boyet,

Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and

Attendants.

King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.

Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine.

K. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. P. Iwill be welcome, then; conduct me thither. K. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. P. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.

Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else.

King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
P. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn-out house-keeping:
"Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it:

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold;
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

[Gives a paper. King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant

Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
Biron. What time o' day?

Ros. The hour that fools shall ask.
Biron. Now fair befall your mask!
Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!
Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disburs'd by my father in his wars.

But say, that he, or we (as neither have),
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the
which,

One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart1 withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain divided as it is.
Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair selfshould make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

P. You do the king my father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt
Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin.

We arrest your word:Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father. King. Satisfy me so. [come, Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not Where that and other specialities are bound ; To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto. Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, As honour, without breach of honour, may Make tender of to thy true worthiness: You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without, you shall be so receiv'd, As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:

To-morrow shall we visit you again. [grace! P. Sweet health and fair desires consort your King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt King and his Train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart.

Ros. Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Ros. Is the fool sick?

Biron. Sick at heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physick says, 1.9

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt, with my knife.
Biron. Now, heaven save thy life!
Ros. And yours from long living!

Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring.
Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is

that same?