Array The griffin classics - William Shakespeare - Complete Collection

Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.”

The boy replied, “An angel is not evil;

I should have fear’d her had she been a devil.”

With that all laugh’d, and clapp’d him on the shoulder,

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.

One rubb’d his elbow thus, and fleer’d, and swore

A better speech was never spoke before.

Another, with his finger and his thumb,

Cried, “Via! we will do’t, come what will come.”

The third he caper’d, and cried, “All goes well.”

The fourth turn’d on the toe, and down he fell.

With that they all did tumble on the ground,

With such a zealous laughter, so profound,

That in this spleen ridiculous appears,

To check their folly, passion’s solemn tears.

Prin.

But what, but what, come they to visit us?

Boyet.

They do, they do; and are apparell’d thus,

Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.

Their purpose is to parley, to court, and dance,

And every one his love-feat will advance

Unto his several mistress, which they’ll know

By favors several which they did bestow.

Prin.

And will they so? The gallants shall be task’d:

For, ladies, we will every one be mask’d,

And not a man of them shall have the grace,

Despite of suit, to see a lady’s face.

Hold, Rosaline, this favor thou shalt wear,

And then the King will court thee for his dear.

Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,

So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.

And change you favors too, so shall your loves

Woo contrary, deceiv’d by these removes.

Ros.

Come on then, wear the favors most in sight.

Kath.

But in this changing, what is your intent?

Prin.

The effect of my intent is to cross theirs:

They do it but in mockery merriment,

And mock for mock is only my intent.

Their several counsels they unbosom shall

To loves mistook, and so be mock’d withal

Upon the next occasion that we meet,

With visages display’d, to talk and greet.

Ros.

But shall we dance, if they desire us to’t?

Prin.

No, to the death we will not move a foot,

Nor to their penn’d speech render we no grace,

But while ’tis spoke each turn away [her] face.

Boyet.

Why, that contempt will kill the speaker’s heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin.

Therefore I do it, and I make no doubt

The rest will [ne’er] come in, if he be out.

There’s no such sport as sport by sport o’erthrown,

To make theirs ours and ours none but our own;

So shall we stay, mocking intended game,

And they, well mock’d, depart away with shame.

Sound trumpet [within].

Boyet.

The trumpet sounds, be mask’d; the maskers come.

[The Ladies mask.]

Enter Blackmoors with music, the Boy [Moth] with a speech, [the King] and the rest of the Lords disguised [as Russians].

Moth.

“All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!”—

[Boyet.]

Beauties no richer than rich taffata.

Moth.

“A holy parcel of the fairest dames

The Ladies turn their backs to him.

That ever turn’d their—backs—to mortal views!”

Ber.

Their ‘eyes,’ villain, their ‘eyes.’

Moth.

“That [ever] turn’d their eyes to mortal views!

Out”—

Boyet.

True, out indeed.

Moth.

“Out of your favors, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe

Not to behold”—

Ber.

“Once to behold,” rogue.

Moth.

“Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,

– with your sun-beamed eyes”—

Boyet.

They will not answer to that epithet;

You were best call it ‘daughter-beamed eyes.’

Moth.

They do not mark me, and that brings me out.

Ber.

Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue!

[Exit Moth.]

Ros.

What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.

If they do speak our language, ’tis our will

That some plain man recount their purposes.

Know what they would.

Boyet.

What would you with the Princess?

Ber.

Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Ros.

What would they, say they?

Boyet.

Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.

Ros.

Why, that they have, and bid them so be gone.

Boyet.

She says, you have it, and you may be gone.

King.

Say to her we have measur’d many miles,

To tread a measure with her on this grass.

Boyet.

They say that they have measur’d many a mile

To tread a measure with you on this grass.

Ros.

It is not so. Ask them how many inches

Is in one mile: if they have measured many,

The measure then of one is eas’ly told.

Boyet.

If to come hither you have measur’d miles,

And many miles, the Princess bids you tell

How many inches doth fill up one mile.

Ber.

Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.

Boyet.

She hears herself.

Ros.

How many weary steps

Of many weary miles you have o’ergone

Are numb’red in the travel of one mile?

Ber.

We number nothing that we spend for you;

Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

That we may do it still without accompt.

Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,

That we (like savages) may worship it.

Ros.

My face is but a moon, and clouded too.

King.

Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do!

Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine

(Those clouds removed) upon our watery eyne.

Ros.

O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter,

Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.

King.

Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.

Thou bid’st me beg; this begging is not strange.

Ros.

Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.

[Music plays.]

Not yet; no dance: thus change I like the moon.

King.

Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?

Ros.

You took the moon at full, but now she’s changed.

King.

Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.

The music plays, vouchsafe some motion to it.

[Ros.]

Our ears vouchsafe it.

King.

But your legs should do it.

Ros.

Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,

We’ll not be nice; take hands. We will not dance.

King.

Why take we hands then?

Ros.

Only to part friends.

Curtsy, sweet hearts—and so the measure ends.

King.

More measure of this measure; be not nice.

Ros.

We can afford no more at such a price.

King.

Price you yourselves; what buys your company?

Ros.

Your absence only.

King.

That can never be.

Ros.

Then cannot we be bought; and so, adieu—

Twice to your visor, and half once to you.

King.

If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat.

Ros.

In private then.

King.

I am best pleas’d with that.

[They converse apart.]

Ber.

White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.