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Raining the tears of lamentation,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to
me? Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; You are attaint with faults and perjury; Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall
you spend, and never rest, , But seek the weary beds of people sick.
Dum. But what to me, my love but what to me? Kath. A wife!--A beard, fair health, and ho
nesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?
Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
At the twelvemonth's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress look on me,
Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
you for a man replete with mocks;
death? It cannot be; it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans, Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, And I will have you, and that fault withal; But, if they will not, throw away that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation.
Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
[To the King King. No, madam: we will bring you on your
way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy
And then 'twill end.
That's too long for a play.
Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,—
Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.
Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? it should have followed in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, Moth, Costard, and others.
This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue,
cuckoo-buds] Cuckoo-buds must be wrong. I believe cowslip-buds, the true reading. FARMER.
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
Winter. When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
Aud Marian's nose looks red and raw,
doth keel the pot.] i. e. cool the pot.
the parson's saw,] Saw seems anciently VOL. II.
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,s
Joan doth keel the pot.
Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way.
not as at present, a proverb, a sentence, but the whole tenor of any instructive discourse,
5 When roasted crabs, &c.] i. e. the wild apples so called. The bowl must be supposed to be filled with ale; a toast and some spice and sugar being added, what is called lamb's wool is produced.
In this play, which all the editors have concurred to censure, and some have rejected as unworthy of our poet, it must be confessed that there are many passages mean, childish, and vulgar; and some which ought not to have been exhibited, as we are told they were, to a maiden Queen. But there are scatter'd through the whole many sparks of genius; nor is there any play that has more evident marks of the hand of Shakspeare.
END OF VOLUME SECOND,
C. and K. Baldwin, Printers.