Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ...

Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron,
Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit.
To weed ...

You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd,
You are attaint with faults and perjury:
Therefore if you my favour mean to get,
A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
But seek the weary beds of people sick.]

We did not quote them so.

By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain,
You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.

Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eyesight, and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto moreover
That he would wed me, or else die my lover.

Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.

It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?

Sans sans, I pray you.

Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.

There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
That hid the worse and show'd the better face.

Which of the vizards was it that you wore?

All the fool mine?

But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.

This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,--

Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord:
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
They did ...

Good madam, if by me you'll be advised,
Let's, mock them still, as well known as disguised:
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
And wonder what they were and to what end
Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn ...

Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.

O, they were all in lamentable cases!
The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.

Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.

In private, then.

Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu;
Twice to your visor, and half once to you.

Your absence only.

We can afford no more at such a price.

Only to part friends:
Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.

Since you are strangers and come here by chance,
We'll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance.

Our ears vouchsafe it.

You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.

Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.
Music plays
Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon.

O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water.

My face is but a moon, and clouded too.

How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?

It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile: if they have measured many,
The measure then of one is easily told.

Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.

What would they, say they?

What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet:
If they do speak our language, 'tis our will:
That some plain man recount their purposes
Know what they would.

But shall we dance, if they desire to't?

Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight.

The blood of youth burns not with such excess
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Biron I'll torture ere I go:
O that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn and beg and seek
And wait the season and observe the times
And spend his prodigal ...

'Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor,
My red dominical, my golden letter:
O, that your face were not so full of O's!

Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.

I would you knew:
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favour were as great; be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron:
The numbers true; and, were the numbering too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compared to ...

Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'

Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.

Look what you do, you do it still i' the dark.

We need more light to find your meaning out.

What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

You'll ne'er be friends with him; a' kill'd your sister.