| ACT I SCENE I | The king of Navarre's park. | |
| | Enter FERDINAND king of Navarre, BIRON, LONGAVILLE and DUMAIN. | |
| FERDINAND | Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, | |
| | Live register'd upon our brazen tombs | |
| | And then grace us in the disgrace of death; | |
| | When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, | 5 |
| | The endeavor of this present breath may buy | |
| | That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge | |
| | And make us heirs of all eternity. | |
| | Therefore, brave conquerors,--for so you are, | |
| | That war against your own affections | 10 |
| | And the huge army of the world's desires,-- | |
| | Our late edict shall strongly stand in force: | |
| | Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; | |
| | Our court shall be a little Academe, | |
| | Still and contemplative in living art. | 15 |
| | You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville, | |
| | Have sworn for three years' term to live with me | |
| | My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes | |
| | That are recorded in this schedule here: | |
| | Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names, | 20 |
| | That his own hand may strike his honour down | |
| | That violates the smallest branch herein: | |
| | If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do, | |
| | Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. | |
| LONGAVILLE | I am resolved; 'tis but a three years' fast: | 25 |
| | The mind shall banquet, though the body pine: | |
| | Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits | |
| | Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. | |
| DUMAIN | My loving lord, Dumain is mortified: | |
| | The grosser manner of these world's delights | 30 |
| | He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves: | |
| | To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die; | |
| | With all these living in philosophy. | |
| BIRON | I can but say their protestation over; | |
| | So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, | 35 |
| | That is, to live and study here three years. | |
| | But there are other strict observances; | |
| | As, not to see a woman in that term, | |
| | Which I hope well is not enrolled there; | |
| | And one day in a week to touch no food | 40 |
| | And but one meal on every day beside, | |
| | The which I hope is not enrolled there; | |
| | And then, to sleep but three hours in the night, | |
| | And not be seen to wink of all the day-- | |
| | When I was wont to think no harm all night | 45 |
| | And make a dark night too of half the day-- | |
| | Which I hope well is not enrolled there: | |
| | O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, | |
| | Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep! | |
| FERDINAND | Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. | 50 |
| BIRON | Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: | |
| | I only swore to study with your grace | |
| | And stay here in your court for three years' space. | |
| LONGAVILLE | You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. | |
| BIRON | By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. | 55 |
| | What is the end of study? let me know. | |
| FERDINAND | Why, that to know, which else we should not know. | |
| BIRON | Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense? | |
| FERDINAND | Ay, that is study's godlike recompense. | |
| BIRON | Come on, then; I will swear to study so, | 60 |
| | To know the thing I am forbid to know: | |
| | As thus,--to study where I well may dine, | |
| | When I to feast expressly am forbid; | |
| | Or study where to meet some mistress fine, | |
| | When mistresses from common sense are hid; | 65 |
| | Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath, | |
| | Study to break it and not break my troth. | |
| | If study's gain be thus and this be so, | |
| | Study knows that which yet it doth not know: | |
| | Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no. | 70 |
| FERDINAND | These be the stops that hinder study quite | |
| | And train our intellects to vain delight. | |
| BIRON | Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, | |
| | Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain: | |
| | As, painfully to pore upon a book | 75 |
| | To seek the light of truth; while truth the while | |
| | Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look: | |
| | Light seeking light doth light of light beguile: | |
| | So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, | |
| | Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. | 80 |
| | Study me how to please the eye indeed | |
| | By fixing it upon a fairer eye, | |
| | Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed | |
| | And give him light that it was blinded by. | |
| | Study is like the heaven's glorious sun | 85 |
| | That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks: | |
| | Small have continual plodders ever won | |
| | Save base authority from others' books | |
| | These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights | |
| | That give a name to every fixed star | 90 |
| | Have no more profit of their shining nights | |
| | Than those that walk and wot not what they are. | |
| | Too much to know is to know nought but fame; | |
| | And every godfather can give a name. | |
| FERDINAND | How well he's read, to reason against reading! | 95 |
| DUMAIN | Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! | |
| LONGAVILLE | He weeds the corn and still lets grow the weeding. | |
| BIRON | The spring is near when green geese are a-breeding. | |
| DUMAIN | How follows that? | |
| BIRON | Fit in his place and time. | 100 |
| DUMAIN | In reason nothing. | |
| BIRON | Something then in rhyme. | |
| FERDINAND | Biron is like an envious sneaping frost, | |
| | That bites the first-born infants of the spring. | |
| BIRON | Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast | 105 |
| | Before the birds have any cause to sing? | |
| | Why should I joy in any abortive birth? | |
| | At Christmas I no more desire a rose | |
| | Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; | |
| | But like of each thing that in season grows. | 110 |
| | So you, to study now it is too late, | |
| | Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate. | |
| FERDINAND | Well, sit you out: go home, Biron: adieu. | |
| BIRON | No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: | |
| | And though I have for barbarism spoke more | 115 |
| | Than for that angel knowledge you can say, | |
| | Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore | |
| | And bide the penance of each three years' day. | |
| | Give me the paper; let me read the same; | |
| | And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name. | 120 |
| FERDINAND | How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! | |
| BIRON | Reads | |
| | mile of my court:' Hath this been proclaimed? | |
| LONGAVILLE | Four days ago. | |
| BIRON | Let's see the penalty. | |
| | Reads. | |
| | 'On pain of losing her tongue.' Who devised this penalty? | 125 |
| LONGAVILLE | Marry, that did I. | |
| BIRON | Sweet lord, and why? | |
| LONGAVILLE | To fright them hence with that dread penalty. | |
| BIRON | A dangerous law against gentility! | |
| | Reads. | |
| | 'Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman | 130 |
| | within the term of three years, he shall endure such | |
| | public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.' | |
| | This article, my liege, yourself must break; | |
| | For well you know here comes in embassy | |
| | The French king's daughter with yourself to speak-- | 135 |
| | A maid of grace and complete majesty-- | |
| | About surrender up of Aquitaine | |
| | To her decrepit, sick and bedrid father: | |
| | Therefore this article is made in vain, | |
| | Or vainly comes the admired princess hither. | 140 |
| FERDINAND | What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. | |
| BIRON | So study evermore is overshot: | |
| | While it doth study to have what it would | |
| | It doth forget to do the thing it should, | |
| | And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, | 145 |
| | 'Tis won as towns with fire, so won, so lost. | |
| FERDINAND | We must of force dispense with this decree; | |
| | She must lie here on mere necessity. | |
| BIRON | Necessity will make us all forsworn | |
| | Three thousand times within this three years' space; | 150 |
| | For every man with his affects is born, | |
| | Not by might master'd but by special grace: | |
| | If I break faith, this word shall speak for me; | |
| | I am forsworn on 'mere necessity.' | |
| | So to the laws at large I write my name: | 155 |
| | Subscribes | |
| | And he that breaks them in the least degree | |
| | Stands in attainder of eternal shame: | |
| | Suggestions are to other as to me; | |
| | But I believe, although I seem so loath, | |
| | I am the last that will last keep his oath. | 160 |
| | But is there no quick recreation granted? | |
| FERDINAND | Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted | |
| | With a refined traveller of Spain; | |
| | A man in all the world's new fashion planted, | |
| | That hath a mint of phrases in his brain; | 165 |
| | One whom the music of his own vain tongue | |
| | Doth ravish like enchanting harmony; | |
| | A man of complements, whom right and wrong | |
| | Have chose as umpire of their mutiny: | |
| | This child of fancy, that Armado hight, | 170 |
| | For interim to our studies shall relate | |
| | In high-born words the worth of many a knight | |
| | From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate. | |
| | How you delight, my lords, I know not, I; | |
| | But, I protest, I love to hear him lie | 175 |
| | And I will use him for my minstrelsy. | |
| BIRON | Armado is a most illustrious wight, | |
| | A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. | |
| LONGAVILLE | Costard the swain and he shall be our sport; | |
| | And so to study, three years is but short. | 180 |
| | Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD. | |
| DULL | Which is the duke's own person? | |
| BIRON | This, fellow: what wouldst? | |
| DULL | I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his | |
| | grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person | |
| | in flesh and blood. | 185 |
| BIRON | This is he. | |
| DULL | Signior Arme--Arme--commends you. There's villany | |
| | abroad: this letter will tell you more. | |
| COSTARD | Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. | |
| FERDINAND | A letter from the magnificent Armado. | 190 |
| BIRON | How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words. | |
| LONGAVILLE | A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience! | |
| BIRON | To hear? or forbear laughing? | |
| LONGAVILLE | To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to | |
| | forbear both. | 195 |
| BIRON | Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to | |
| | climb in the merriness. | |
| COSTARD | The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. | |
| | The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. | |
| BIRON | In what manner? | 200 |
| COSTARD | In manner and form following, sir; all those three: | |
| | I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with | |
| | her upon the form, and taken following her into the | |
| | park; which, put together, is in manner and form | |
| | following. Now, sir, for the manner,--it is the | 205 |
| | manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,-- | |
| | in some form. | |
| BIRON | For the following, sir? | |
| COSTARD | As it shall follow in my correction: and God defend | |
| | the right! | 210 |
| FERDINAND | Will you hear this letter with attention? | |
| BIRON | As we would hear an oracle. | |
| COSTARD | Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh. | |
| FERDINAND | Reads | |
| | sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, | |
| | and body's fostering patron.' | 215 |
| COSTARD | Not a word of Costard yet. | |
| FERDINAND | Reads | |
| COSTARD | It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in | |
| | telling true, but so. | |
| FERDINAND | Peace! | |
| COSTARD | Be to me and every man that dares not fight! | 220 |
| FERDINAND | No words! | |
| COSTARD | Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| | melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour | |
| | to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving | |
| | air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to | 225 |
| | walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when | |
| | beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down | |
| | to that nourishment which is called supper: so much | |
| | for the time when. Now for the ground which; which, | |
| | I mean, I walked upon: it is y-cleped thy park. Then | 230 |
| | for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter | |
| | that obscene and preposterous event, that draweth | |
| | from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which | |
| | here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest; | |
| | but to the place where; it standeth north-north-east | 235 |
| | and by east from the west corner of thy curious- | |
| | knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited | |
| | swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,'-- | |
| COSTARD | Me? | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| COSTARD | Me? | 240 |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| COSTARD | Still me? | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| COSTARD | O, me! | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| | established proclaimed edict and continent canon, | |
| | which with,--O, with--but with this I passion to say | |
| | wherewith,-- | 245 |
| COSTARD | With a wench. | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| | female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a | |
| | woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on, | |
| | have sent to thee, to receive the meed of | |
| | punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Anthony | 250 |
| | Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and | |
| | estimation.' | |
| DULL | 'Me, an't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull. | |
| FERDINAND | Reads. | |
| | called which I apprehended with the aforesaid | |
| | swain,--I keep her as a vessel of the law's fury; | 255 |
| | and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring | |
| | her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted | |
| | and heart-burning heat of duty. | |
| | DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' | |
| BIRON | This is not so well as I looked for, but the best | 260 |
| | that ever I heard. | |
| FERDINAND | Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say | |
| | you to this? | |
| COSTARD | Sir, I confess the wench. | |
| FERDINAND | Did you hear the proclamation? | 265 |
| COSTARD | I do confess much of the hearing it but little of | |
| | the marking of it. | |
| FERDINAND | It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken | |
| | with a wench. | |
| COSTARD | I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damsel. | 270 |
| FERDINAND | Well, it was proclaimed 'damsel.' | |
| COSTARD | This was no damsel, neither, sir; she was a virgin. | |
| FERDINAND | It is so varied, too; for it was proclaimed 'virgin.' | |
| COSTARD | If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid. | |
| FERDINAND | This maid will not serve your turn, sir. | 275 |
| COSTARD | This maid will serve my turn, sir. | |
| FERDINAND | Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast | |
| | a week with bran and water. | |
| COSTARD | I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. | |
| FERDINAND | And Don Armado shall be your keeper. | 280 |
| | My Lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er: | |
| | And go we, lords, to put in practise that | |
| | Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. | |
| | Exeunt FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN. | |
| BIRON | I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, | |
| | These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. | 285 |
| | Sirrah, come on. | |
| COSTARD | I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was | |
| | taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true | |
| | girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of | |
| | prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again; and | 290 |
| | till then, sit thee down, sorrow! | |
| | Exeunt | |
