As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.

Kath. What, was your vifor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reafon, lady, why you ask. Kath. O, for your reafon ! quickly, Sir; I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechlefs vizor half.

Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman ;-Is not veal a calf? Long. A calf, fair lady?

Kath. No, a fair lord calf.

Long. Let's part the word.

Kath. No, I'll not be your half:

Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.

Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these fharp mocks !

Will you give horns, chafte lady? do not fo.

Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
Long. One word in private with you, ere I die.
Kath. Bleat foftly then, the butcher hears you cry.
Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge invifible,

Cutting a smaller hair than may be feen;

Above the fenfe of fenfe: fo fenfible

Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,
Fleeter than arrows, wind, thought, fwifter things.
Rof. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
Biron. By heaven we're all dry-beaten with pure fcoff!
King. Farewel, mad wenches; you have ' fimple wits.
[Exeunt king and lords.
Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.—

Are these the breed of wits fo wondred at?

Boyet. Tapers they are, with your fweet breaths puff'd

out.

Rof. Well-liking wits they have; grofs, grofs; fat, fat. Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to night? Or ever, but in vizors, fhew their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Rof. O! they were all in lamentable cafes! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word. Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all fuit.

h

Mar. Dumain was at my fervice, and his fword:
No, point, quoth I; my servant ftrait was mute.
Kath. Lord Longaville faid, I came o'er his heart;
And trow you, what he call'd me?

Prin. Qualm, perhaps.

Kath. Yes, in good faith.

Prin. Go, fickness as thou art!

i

Rof. Well, better wits have worn plain ftatute-caps. But will you hear? the king is my love fworn.

Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me. Kath. And Longaville was for my service born. Mar. Dumain is mine, as fure as bark on tree. Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear; Immediately they will again be here

In their own fhapes; for it can never be,

They will digeft this harsh indignity.

Prin. Will they return?

Boyet. They will, they will, God knows;
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:

kingly-poor flout !]-fupremely poor jefting.

out of all fuit.]-till he had nothing to say.

i have worn plain ftatute-caps.]-woollen-might be found in the city, among their inferiors.

Therefore,

Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair,
Blow like fweet rofes in this fummer air.

Prin. How blow? how blow? fpeak to be understood.
Boyet. Fair ladies, mafk'd, are rofes in their bud;
Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture fhewn,
j Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?

k

Rof. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
Let's mock them ftill, as well known, as difguis'd:
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Difguis'd like Mufcovites, in fhapeless gear;
And wonder, what they were; and to what end
Their fhallow fhows, and prologue vilely penn'd,
And their rough carriage fo ridiculous,

Should be prefented at our tent to us.

Boyet. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er the land. [Exeunt Ladies.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain in their own habits.

King. Fair Sir, God fave you! Where's the princess? Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her?

King. That the vouchfafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and fo will she, I know, my lord. [Exit. Biron. This fellow picks up wit, as pigeons peas;

And utters it again when Jove doth please:

jare angels vailing clouds,]-cafting them beneath their feet, in order to display their brightness-veil'd in clouds-rendered visible to mortals, by affuming the veil, or cover of a cloud; fpirits being, as our author elsewhere elegantly terms them, "fightless fubftances," till fo clothed or embodied.

k fhapeless gear ;]-uncouth dreffes.

He

He is wit's pedlar; and retails his wares

At wakes, and 'waffels, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that fell by grofs, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with fuch fhow.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve:
He can carve too, and lifp: Why, this is he,
That kifs'd away his hand in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, monfieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms; nay, he can fing

m

A mean most meanly; and, in ufhering,

Mend him who can: the ladies call him, fweet;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kifs his feet:
This is the flower that fmiles on every one,
To fhew his teeth as white as whales bone:
And confciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

King. A blifter on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado's page out of his part?

Enter the Princefs, Rofaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, and attendants.

Biron. See, where it comes! Behaviour, what wert

thou,

'Till this man fhew'd thee? and what art thou now?

King. All hail, fweet madam, and fair time of day!
Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive.
King. Conftrue my fpeeches better, if you may.
Prin. Then with me better, I will give you leave.

1 waffels,]-merry bouts.

m mean]-tenor part. the flower that fmiles on every one,]-the pink of courtesy. • whale his bone. The Saxon genitive cafe ufed here; and again, "Swifter than the moones fphere."

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, A& II, S. 1. Fai. Behaviour,]-Courtly parade, or addrefs, what a strange bufinefs wert thou, and art thou still?

King. We came to vifit you; and purpose now

To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then.
Prin. This field fhall hold me; and fo hold your vow:
Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur'd men.

King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke;
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
Prin. You nick-name 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 unfully'd 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 caufe to be
Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
King. O, you have liv'd in defolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
Prin. Not fo, my lord; it is not fo, I swear;
We have had paftimes here, and pleasant game;
A mefs of Ruffians left us but of late,
King. How, madam! Ruffians?

Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord;

Trim gallants, full of courtship, and of state.

Rof. Madam, fpeak true :-It is not fo, my lord; My lady, ( to the manner of these days)

In courtesy gives undeserving praise.

We four, indeed, confronted were with four
In Ruffian habit: here they ftay'd an hour,
And talk'd 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.

a virtue]-luftre, efficacy.

A mes]-A band.

to the manner of thefe days) &c.]-as 'tis the fashion of these times, lavishes her commendation indifcriminately.