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 of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have | Finely put on, indeed !— "Thine, in the dearest design of industry, And he from forage will incline to play : Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever hear Boyet. I am much deceiv'd, but I remember the style. A phantasm, a Monarcho,2 and one that makes sport Who gave thee this letter? Cost. Thou, fellow, a word. I told you; my lord. Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it? Boyet. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, [Exeunt Ros. and KATH. Cost. By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it! Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark! O! mark but that mark: a mark, says my lady. Let the mark have a prick in 't, to mete at, if it may be. Mar. 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. Boyet. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. Cost. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin.* Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my Armado o' the one side,-O, a most dainty man! From my lord to my lady. Looking babies in her eyes, his passion to declare." Prin. From which lord, to which lady? [Shouting within. [Exit ČOSTARD. SCENE II.-The Same. Hol. The deer was, as you know, sanguis,—in blood; ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cœlo,-the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,the soil, the land, the earth. Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are Dull. 'T was not a haud credo, 't was a pricket.' 1 These verses are usually given to Boyet, as his own, instead of being an appendage to Armado's epistle. 2 An Englishman, who, according to Nash, (Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1596,) "quite renounst his naturall English accents and gestures, and wrested himself wholly to the Italian puntilios." He asserted himself to be sovereign of the world, and from this "phantastick humor" obtained the title of Monarcho. 3 A play upon shooter and suitor, showing that the pronunciation of the two was similar. 4 Clout and pin, terms in archery; the clout or pin, held up the mark aimed at. 5 This line is not in f. e. 6 Not in f. e. A kind of apple. 8 A stag five years old. 9 A stag two years old. Hol. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a insinuation, as it were, in via, in way of explication; foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, ostentare, to objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: show, as it were, his inclination,-after his undressed, these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the unlettered, or, ratherest, unconfirmed fashion,-to in- mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in those sert again my haud credo for a deer. in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo: 't was a pricket. Hol. Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus !· O, thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look! Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: His intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal not to think, 1 Only sensible in the duller parts2; and such barren plants Are set before us, that we thankful should be Which we, having taste and feeling, are for those parts that do fructify in us more than he: For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool, So, were there a patch set on learning, to set him in a school: But, omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind. Dull. You two are book men: can you tell by your wit, What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet? Hol. Doctissimè,* good man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull. The allusion holds in the exchange. Dull. 'Tis true indeed: the collusion holds in the exchange. Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange. Dull. And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange, for the moon is never but a month old; and I say beside. that 't was a pricket that the princess kill'd. Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and, to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the princess kill'd, a pricket. Nath. Perge, good master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility. Hol. I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility. [Reads. The preyful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing pricket; Some say, a sore; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. The dogs did yell; put I to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a hooting. If sore be sore, then I to sore makes fifty sores; O sore I! Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one more l. Nath. A rare talent! Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth. Hol. Mehercle! if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them; but, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth us. Enter JAQUENETTA and CoSTARD. Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person.* Hol. Master person,-quasi pers-on. An if one should be pierced, which is the one? Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead. Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine: 't is pretty; it is well. Jaq. Good master parson, be so good as read me this letter it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it. Hol. Fauste, precor gelidâ quando pecus omne sub umbrá Ruminat,-and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice: -Venegia, Venegia, 10 Chi non te vede, non te pregia.1 Old Mantuan! old Mantuan ! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not.-Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or, rather, as Horace says in his-What, my soul, verses? Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned. Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse: lege, domine. Nath. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Where all those pleasures live, that art would comprehend: If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice. Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend; All ignorant that soul, that sees thee without wonder Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire. Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which, not to anger bent, is music, and sweet fire. Celestial, as thou art, O! pardon, love, this wrong, That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue! Hol. You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso, but for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention ? Imitating is nothing: so doth the hound his master, 2 The whole of this passage, commencing with "O, thou monster," &c., is printed as prose in f. e. 3 of: in f. e. 4 Dictynna in f. e. 5 Reached. 6 Talon was often written talent. 7 Not in f. e. 8 Parson was sometimes called person. "He is called parson, persona, because by his person the church, which is an invisible body, is represented."-Blackstone. 9 John Baptist Mantuanus; his eclogues were translated by George Turberville, 1567. 10 A proverb: quoted in Howell's Letters. 11 imitari: in f. e. 6 Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. 1 "not to think": not in f. e. [Aside. the ape his keeper, the trained' horse his rider. But damosella, virgin, was this directed to you? Jaq. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords. Hol. I will overglance the superscript. To the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline." I will look again on the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party writing to the person written unto: "Your ladyship's, in all desired employment, Biron." Sir Nathaniel, this Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger queen's, which, accidentally, or by the way of progression, hath miscarried.-Trip and go, my sweet: deliver this paper into the royal hand of the king; it may concern much. Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty: adieu. Jaq. Good Costard, go with me.-Sir, God save your life! Cost. Have with thee, my girl. [Exeunt COST. and JAQ. Nath. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very religiously; and, as a certain father saith Hol. Sir, tell me not of the father; I do fear colourable colours. But, to return to the verses: did they please you, sir Nathaniel? Nath. Marvellous well for the pen. Hol. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where, if before repast it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the aforesaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your society. Nath. And thank you too; for society (saith the text) is the happiness of life. Hol. And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.-Sir, [To DULL,] I do invite you too: you shall not say me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation. [Exeunt. SCENE III.—Another part of the Same. Enter BIRON, with a paper. Biron. The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself: they have pitch'd a toil2; I am toiling in a pitch-pitch that defiles. Defile? a foul word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so, they say, the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved again o' my side! I will not love; if I do, hang me: i' faith, I will not. O! but her eye,-by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her! yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already: the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper: God give him grace to groan ! [Gets up into a tree. Enter the KING, with a paper. King. Ay me! Biron. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven !-Proceed, sweet Cupid: thou hast thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap.-In faith, secrets!—— King. [Reads.] So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not As thine eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. And they thy glory through my grief will show: But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens, how far thou dost1 excel, No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell. How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper. Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper. What, Longaville! and reading? listen, ear. [Steps aside. Biron. [Aside in the tree.] Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear! Long. Ay me! I am forsworn. Biron. [Aside.] Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. King. [Aside.] In love, I hope. Sweet fellowship in shame! Biron. [Aside.] One drunkard loves another of the name. Long. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? Biron. [Aside.] I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know. Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, Disfigure not his slop.8 Long. This same shall go.— [He reads the sonnet. 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee. Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, If broken, then, it is no fault of mine. Biron. [Aside.] This is the liver vein', which makes flesh a deity; A green goose, a goddess: pure, pure idolatry. amend us! God amend us! we are much out o' God 1 'tired in f. e. 2 An enclosure, into which game were driven. 3 night of dew: in f. e. stating their offence, were affixed to perjurers at the time of their punishment.-Holinshed. was supposed to be the seat of the affections. 10 An old name for hide and go seek. 4 dost thou : in f. e. 5 Aside in f. e. 7 Trimmings. 8 shape in f. e. 6 Papers 9 The liver |
