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. |
| 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, |
| That his own hand may strike his honour down | 20 |
| 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: |
| 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 |
| He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves: | 30 |
| 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, |
| 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 |
| And but one meal on every day beside, | 40 |
| 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 |
| 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. |
BIRON | Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: | 50 |
| 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. |
| 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, |
| To know the thing I am forbid to know: | 60 |
| 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; |
| 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. |
FERDINAND | These be the stops that hinder study quite | 70 |
| 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 |
| 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. |
| Study me how to please the eye indeed | 80 |
| 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 |
| 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 |
| Have no more profit of their shining nights | 90 |
| 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! |
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. |
DUMAIN | In reason nothing. | |
BIRON | Something then in rhyme. | |
FERDINAND | Biron is like an envious sneaping frost, | 100 |
| That bites the first-born infants of the spring. | |
BIRON | Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast |
| 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. |
| 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! | 110 |
BIRON | No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you: | |
| And though I have for barbarism spoke more |
| 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. |
FERDINAND | How well this yielding rescues thee from shame! | |
BIRON | [Reads] 'Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court? | |
| Hath this been proclaimed? | 120 |
LONGAVILLE | Four days ago. | |
BIRON | Let's see the penalty. | |
| [Reads.] | |
| 'On pain of losing her tongue.' Who devised this penalty? |
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 |
| within the term of three years, he shall endure such | |
| public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.' | 130 |
| This article, my liege, yourself must break; | |
| For well you know here comes in embassy | |
| The French king's daughter with yourself to speak-- |
| 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. |
FERDINAND | What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. | |
BIRON | So study evermore is overshot: | 140 |
| 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, |
| '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; |
| For every man with his affects is born, | |
| Not by might master'd but by special grace. | 150 |
| 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: |
| [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. |
| But is there no quick recreation granted? | |
FERDINAND | Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted | |
| With a refined traveller of Spain; | 161 |
| A man in all the world's new fashion planted, | |
| That hath a mint of phrases in his brain; |
| 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, |
| For interim to our studies shall relate | |
| In high-born words the worth of many a knight | 170 |
| 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 |
| 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. |
| Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD. | |
DULL | Which is the duke's own person? | |
BIRON | This, fellow: what wouldst? | 180 |
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. |
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. |
BIRON | How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words. | 190 |
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. |
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 |
| 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] 'Great deputy, the weklin's vicegerent and | |
| sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, | |
| and body's fostering patron.' |
COSTARD | Not a word of Costard yet. | |
FERDINAND | [Reads] 'So it is.' -- | |
COSTARD | It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in | |
| telling true, but so. | 220 |
FERDINAND | Peace! | |
COSTARD | Be to me and every man that dares not fight! |
FERDINAND | No words! | |
COSTARD | Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. | |
FERDINAND | Reads. 'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured | |
| 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 |
| 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 |
| 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. | 240 |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'that unlettered small-knowing soul,' -- | |
COSTARD | Me. |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'that shallow vassel'-- | |
COSTARD | Still me. | |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'which, as I remember, high Costard,'-- | |
COSTARD | O, me! | |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'sorted and consorted, contrary to thy | |
| established proclaimed edict and continent canon, | |
| which with,--O, with--but with this I passion to say | |
| wherewith,' -- |
COSTARD | With a wench. | 250 |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'with a child of our grandmother Eve, a | |
| 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 |
| Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and | |
| estimation.' | |
DULL | 'Me, an't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull. | |
FERDINAND | [Reads.] 'For Jaquenette, -- so is the weaker essel | |
| called which I apprehended with the aforesaid | |
| swain,--I keep her as a vessel of the law's fury; |
| 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 | 264 |
| 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? |
COSTARD | I do confess much of the hearing it but little of | |
| the marking of it. | 270 |
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 damosel. |
FERDINAND | Well, it was proclaimed 'damosel.' | |
COSTARD | This was no damosel, 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. | 280 |
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. |
| 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, | 290 |
| These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. |
| 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 | |