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{Enter the PRINCESS of France with her Ladies KATHARINE, MARIA and ROSALINE, accompanied by Lords BOYET and MARCADE.}
BOYET. Now madam summon up your dearest spirits,
Consider who the King your father sends:
To whom he sends, and what’s his Embassy.
Yourself, held precious in the world’s esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre, the plea of no less weight,
Than Aquitaine a Dowry for a Queen.
Be now as prodigal of all Dear grace,
As Nature was in making Graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.
PRINCESS. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not uttered by base sale of chapmen’s tongues:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending your Wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker, good Boyet,
You are not ignorant all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a Vow,
Till painful study shall out-wear three years.
No Woman may approach his silent Court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalf
Bold of your worthiness, we single you,
As our best-moving fair solicitor:
Tell him, the Daughter of the King of France
On serious business craving quick dispatch,
Importuous personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much while we attend,
Like humble visage Suitors his high will.
BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
{Exit BOYET.}
PRINCESS. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so:
Who are the Votaries my loving Lord, that are vow-fellows with this virtuous Duke?
MARCADE. Longaville is one.
PRINCESS. Know you the man?
MARIA. I know him Madam at a marriage feast,
Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heiress
Of Jaques Falconbridge solemnized.
In Normandy saw I this Longaville,
A man of sovereign peerlessness he is esteem’d:
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue’s gloss,
If virtue’s gloss will stain with any soil,
Is a sharp Wit match’d with too blunt a Will:
Whose edge hath power to cut whose will still wills,
It should none spare, that come within his power.
PRINCESS. Some merry mocking Lord belike, is it so?
MARIA. They say so most, that most his humors know.
PRINCESS. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
KATHARINE. The young Dumaine, a well accomplish’d youth,
Of all that Virtue love, for Virtue loved.
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill:
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alanso’s once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthiness.
ROSALINE. Another of these Students at that time,
Was there with him, if I have heard a truth.
Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour’s talk withal.
His eye begets occasion for his wit,
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest.
Which his fair tongue (conceit’s expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales.
And younger hearings are quite ravished.
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
PRINCESS. God bless my Ladies, are they all in love?
That every one her own hath garnished,
With such bedecking ornaments of praise.
MARCADE. Here comes Boyet.
{Enter BOYET.}
PRINCESS. Now, What admittance Lord?
BOYET. Navarre had notice of your fair approach,
And he and his competitors in oath,
Were all address’d to meet you gentle Lady
Before I came: Marry this much I have learnt,
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to besiege his Court,
Than seek a dispensation for his oath:
To let you enter his unpeeled house.
{Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAINE, and BEROWNE}
BOYET. Here comes Navarre.
KING. Fair Princess, Welcome to the court of Navarre.
PRINCESS. Fair I give you back again, and welcome I have not yet: the roof of this Court is too high to be yours, and welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine.
KING. You shall be welcome Madam to my Court.
PRINCESS. I will be welcome then, Conduct me thither.
KING. Hear me dear Lady, I have sworn an oath,—
PRINCESS. Our Lady help my Lord, he’ll be forsworn.
KING. Not for the world fair Madam, by my will.
PRINCESS. Why, will shall break at will, and nothing else.
KING. Your Ladyship is ignorant what it is.
PRINCESS. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear your grace hath sworn-out Housekeeping:
Tis deadly sin to keep that oath my Lord,
And sin to break it: but pardon me, I am too sudden bold,
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And so dainly resolve me in my suit.
KING. Madam I will, if so deignly I may.
PRINCESS. You will the sooner that I were away,
For you’ll prove perjured if you make me stay.
{KING reads letter silently.}
BEROWNE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
KATHARINE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
BEROWNE. I know you did.
KATHARINE. How needless was it then to ask the question?
BEROWNE. You must not be so quick.
KATHARINE. Tis long of you that spur me with such questions.
BEROWNE. Your wit’s too hot, it speeds too fast, ‘twill tire.
KATHARINE. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
BEROWNE. What time a day?
KATHARINE. The hour that fools should ask.
BEROWNE. Now fair befall your mask.
KATHARINE. Fair fall the face it covers.
BEROWNE. And send you many lovers.
KATHARINE. 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, 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 permaund to have repaid,
A hundred thousand Crowns, and not demands
One 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 honor (without breech of honor) may,
Make tender of to thy true worthiness.
You may not come (fair princess) within 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 harbor 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.
{Exit KING, DUMAINE, and LONGAVILLE.}
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 aye.
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 thanks-giving.
{Exit BEROWNE. Enter DUMAINE.}
DUMAINE. Sir, I pray you a word, What lady is that same?
BOYET. The heir of Alanson, Rosaline her name.
DUMAINE. A gallant Lady Monsieur, fare you well.
{Exit DUMAINE. Enter LONGAVILLE.}
LONGAVILLE. I beseech you a word, What is she in the white?
BOYET. A woman sometimes, and 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. Enter BEROWNE.}
BEROWNE. What’s her name in the cap?
BOYET. Katharine 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.}
MARIA. That last is Berowne, the merry madcap 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 he was to board.
KATHARINE. Two hot Sheeps marry.
BOYET. And wherefore not Ships?
No Sheep (sweet Lamb) unless we feed on your lips.
KATHARINE. You Sheep and I pasture: shall that finish the jest?
BOYET. So you grant pasture for me.
KATHARINE. Not so gentle beast.
My lips are no Common, though several they be.
BOYET. Belonging to whom?
MARIA. To my fortunes and me.
PRINCESS. Good wits will be jangling, but gentles agree,
This civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his Bookmen, for here tis abused.
BOYET. If my observation (which very seldom lies)
By the heart’s still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes.
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
PRINCESS. With what?
BOYET. With that which we Lovers entitle Affected.
PRINCESS. Your reason.
BOYET. Why all his behaviors did make their retire,
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
His heart like an Agate with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed.
His tongue all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be,
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
Methought all his senses were lock’d in his eye,
As jewels in Crystal for some Prince to buy.
Who tend’ring their own worth from where they were glass’d,
Did point you to buy them along as you pass’d.
His face’s own margent did coat such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
I’ll give you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
And you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
PRINCESS. Come, to our Pavillion, Boyet is disposed.
BOYET. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclos’d.
I only have made a mouth of his eye,
By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
MARIA. Thou art an old Love-monger, and speakest skillfully.
KATHARINE. He is Cupid’s Grandfather, and learns news of him.
ROSALINE. Then was Venus like her Mother, for her father is but grim.
BOYET. Do you hear my mad Wenches?
MARIA. No.
BOYET. What then, do you see?
MARIA. I, our way to be gone.
BOYET. You are too hard for me.
{Exeunt omnes.}

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