Loves Labours Lost | Page 9

teach a teacher ill beseemeth me. Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, And suddenly resolve me in my suit.
[Gives a paper.]
KING. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
PRINCESS. You will the sooner that I were away, For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me stay.
BEROWNE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
ROSALINE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
BEROWNE. I know you did.
ROSALINE. How needless was it then To ask the question!
BEROWNE. You must not be so quick.
ROSALINE. 'Tis long of you, that spur me with such questions.
BEROWNE. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.
ROSALINE. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
BEROWNE. What time o' day?
ROSALINE. The hour that fools should ask.
BEROWNE. Now fair befall your mask!
ROSALINE. Fair fall the face it covers!
BEROWNE. And send you many lovers!
ROSALINE. Amen, so you be none.
BEROWNE. Nay, then will I be gone.
KING. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say that he or we,--as neither have,-- Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid A hundred thousand more, in surety of the which, One part of Aquitaine is bound to us, Although not valued to the money's worth. If then the King your father will restore But that one half which is unsatisfied, We will give up our right in Aquitaine, And hold fair friendship with his majesty. But that, it seems, he little purposeth, For here he doth demand to have repaid A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, To have his title live in Aquitaine; Which we much rather had depart withal, And have the money by our father lent, Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is. Dear Princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again.
PRINCESS. You do the king my father too much wrong, And wrong the reputation of your name, In so unseeming to confess receipt Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
KING. I do protest I never heard of it; And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back Or yield up Aquitaine.
PRINCESS. We arrest your word. Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum from special officers Of Charles his father.
KING. Satisfy me so.
BOYET. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialties are bound: To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.
KING. It shall suffice me; at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime receive such welcome at my hand As honour, without breach of honour, may Make tender of to thy true worthiness. You may not come, fair Princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so receiv'd As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: To-morrow shall we visit you again.
PRINCESS. Sweet health and fair desires consort your Grace!
KING. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place.
[Exeunt KING and his Train.]
BEROWNE. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.
ROSALINE. Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.
BEROWNE. I would you heard it groan.
ROSALINE. Is the fool sick?
BEROWNE. Sick at the heart.
ROSALINE. Alack! let it blood.
BEROWNE. Would that do it good?
ROSALINE. My physic says 'ay.'
BEROWNE. Will you prick't with your eye?
ROSALINE. No point, with my knife.
BEROWNE. Now, God save thy life!
ROSALINE. And yours from long living!
BEROWNE. I cannot stay thanksgiving.
[Retiring.]
DUMAINE. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?
BOYET. The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.
DUMAINE. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.
[Exit.]
LONGAVILLE. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
BOYET. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
LONGAVILLE. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.
BOYET. She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.
LONGAVILLE. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
BOYET. Her mother's, I have heard.
LONGAVILLE. God's blessing on your beard!
BOYET. Good sir, be not offended. She is an heir of Falconbridge.
LONGAVILLE. Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most sweet lady.
BOYET. Not unlike, sir; that may be.
[Exit LONGAVILLE.]
BEROWNE. What's her name in the cap?
BOYET. Rosaline, by good hap.
BEROWNE. Is she wedded or no?
BOYET. To her will, sir, or so.
BEROWNE. You are welcome, sir. Adieu!
BOYET. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
[Exit BEROWNE.--LADIES unmask.]
MARIA. That last is Berowne, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest.
BOYET. And every jest but a word.
PRINCESS. It was well done of you to take him at his word.
BOYET. I was as willing to grapple as