William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

game.

       A mess of Russians left us but of late.

       KING.

       How, madam! Russians?

       PRINCESS.

       Ay, in truth, my lord;

       Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.

       ROSALINE.

       Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord:

       My lady, to the manner of the days,

       In courtesy gives undeserving praise.

       We four indeed confronted were with four

       In Russian habit: here they stay’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.

       BEROWNE.

       This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet,

       Your wit makes wise things foolish:when we greet,

       With eyes best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye,

       By light we lose light: your capacity

       Is of that nature that to your huge store

       Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.

       ROSALINE.

       This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye-

       BEROWNE.

       I am a fool, and full of poverty.

       ROSALINE.

       But that you take what doth to you belong,

       It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.

       BEROWNE.

       O! am yours, and all that I possess.

       ROSALINE.

       All the fool mine?

       BEROWNE.

       I cannot give you less.

       ROSALINE.

       Which of the visors was it that you wore?

       BEROWNE.

       Where? when? what visor? why demand you this?

       ROSALINE.

       There, then, that visor; that superfluous case

       That hid the worse,and show’d the better face.

       KING.

       We are descried: they’ll mock us now downright.

       DUMAINE.

       Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.

       PRINCESS.

       Amaz’d, my lord? Why looks your Highness sad?

       ROSALINE.

       Help! hold his brows! he’ll swound. Why look you pale?

       Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

       BEROWNE.

       Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.

       Can any face of brass hold longer out?—

       Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me;

       Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout;

       Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance;

       Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;

       And I will wish thee never more to dance,

       Nor never more in Russian habit wait.

       O! never will I trust to speeches penn’d,

       Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue,

       Nor never come in visor to my friend,

       Nor woo in rime, like a blind harper’s song.

       Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,

       Threepil’d hyperboles, spruce affectation,

       Figures pedantical; these summer-flies

       Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:

       I do forswear them; and I here protest,

       By this white glove,—how white the hand, God knows!—

       Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express’d

       In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes;

       And, to begin, wench,—so God help me, la!—

       My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

       ROSALINE.

       Sans ‘sans,’ I pray you.

       BEROWNE.

       Yet I have a trick

       Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick;

       I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft! let us see:

       Write ‘Lord have mercy on us’ on those three;

       They are infected; in their hearts it lies;

       They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes:

       These lords are visited; you are not free,

       For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see.

       PRINCESS.

       No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.

       BEROWNE.

       Our states are forfeit; seek not to undo us.

       ROSALINE.

       It is not so. For how can this be true,

       That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?

       BEROWNE.

       Peace! for I will not have to do with you.

       ROSALINE.

       Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.

       BEROWNE.

       Speak for yourselves: my wit is at an end.

       KING.

       Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression

       Some fair excuse.

       PRINCESS.

       The fairest is confession.

       Were not you here but even now, disguis’d?

       KING.

       Madam, I was.

       PRINCESS.

       And were you well advis’d?

       KING.

       I was, fair madam.

       PRINCESS.

       When you then were here,

       What did you whisper in your lady’s ear?

       KING.

       That more than all the world I did respect her.

       PRINCESS.

       When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.

       KING.

       Upon mine honour, no.

       PRINCESS.

       Peace! peace! forbear;

       Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.

       KING.

       Despise me when I break this oath of mine.

       PRINCESS.

       I will; and therefore keep it. Rosaline,

       What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

       ROSALINE.

       Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear

       As precious eyesight, and did value me

       Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,

       That he would wed me, or else die my lover.