The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [293]
months on her way.
ARMADO.
What meanest thou?
COSTARD.
Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench
is cast away. She's quick; the child brags in her belly already;
'tis yours.
ARMADO.
Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? Thou shalt die.
COSTARD.
Then shall Hector be whipt for Jaquenetta that is quick by
him, and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him.
DUMAIN.
Most rare Pompey!
BOYET.
Renowned Pompey!
BEROWNE.
Greater than Great! Great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the Huge!
DUMAIN.
Hector trembles.
BEROWNE.
Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir them on!
stir them on!
DUMAIN.
Hector will challenge him.
BEROWNE.
Ay, if 'a have no more man's blood in his belly than will sup a flea.
ARMADO.
By the North Pole, I do challenge thee.
COSTARD.
I will not fight with a pole, like a Northern man;
I'll
slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.
DUMAIN.
Room for the incensed Worthies!
COSTARD.
I'll do it in my shirt.
DUMAIN.
Most resolute Pompey!
MOTH.
Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you not see
Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? You will lose your reputation.
ARMADO.
Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.
DUMAIN.
You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
ARMADO.
Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BEROWNE.
What reason have you for 't?
ARMADO.
The naked truth of it is: I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.
BOYET.
True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen;
since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a dishclout of
Jaquenetta's, and that 'a wears next his heart for a favour.
Enter as messenger, MONSIEUR MARCADE
MARCADE.
God save you, madam!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Welcome, Marcade;
But that thou interruptest our merriment.
MARCADE.
I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father-
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Dead, for my life!
MARCADE.
Even so; my tale is told.
BEROWNE.
Worthies away; the scene begins to cloud.
ARMADO.
For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the
day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will
right myself like a soldier. Exeunt WORTHIES
KING.
How fares your Majesty?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.
KING.
Madam, not so; I do beseech you stay.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours, and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spirits,
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath- your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord.
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
KING.
The extreme parts of time extremely forms
All causes to the purpose of his speed;
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purpos'd; since to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE.
I understand you not; my griefs are double.
BEROWNE.
Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
And by these badges understand the King.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents;
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain;
Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every