No More Learning

No time shall be omitted
That will betime, and may by us be fitted.
BEROWNE. Allons! allons! Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn,
And justice always whirls in equal measure.
Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
If so, our copper buys no better treasure. Exeunt




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ACT V. SCENE I.
The park

Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL

HOLOFERNES. Satis quod sufficit.
NATHANIEL. I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at dinner have
been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty
without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without
opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam
day with a companion of the King's who is intituled, nominated,
or called, Don Adriano de Armado.
HOLOFERNES. Novi hominem tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his
discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his
gait majestical and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and
thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd,
as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.
NATHANIEL. A most singular and choice epithet.
[Draws out his table-book]
HOLOFERNES. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than
the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasimes,
such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of
orthography, as to speak 'dout' fine, when he should say 'doubt';
'det' when he should pronounce 'debt'- d, e, b, t, not d, e, t.
He clepeth a calf 'cauf,' half 'hauf'; neighbour vocatur
'nebour'; 'neigh' abbreviated 'ne. ' This is abhominable- which he
would call 'abbominable. ' It insinuateth me of insanie: ne
intelligis, domine? to make frantic, lunatic.
NATHANIEL. Laus Deo, bone intelligo.
HOLOFERNES. 'Bone'? - 'bone' for 'bene. ' Priscian a little
scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD

NATHANIEL. Videsne quis venit?
HOLOFERNES. Video, et gaudeo.
ARMADO. [To MOTH] Chirrah!
HOLOFERNES. Quare 'chirrah,' not 'sirrah'?
ARMADO. Men of peace, well encount'red.
HOLOFERNES. Most military sir, salutation.
MOTH. [Aside to COSTARD] They have been at a great feast of
languages and stol'n the scraps.
COSTARD. O, they have liv'd long on the alms-basket of words. I
marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou are
not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus; thou art
easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
MOTH. Peace! the peal begins.
ARMADO. [To HOLOFERNES] Monsieur, are you not lett'red?
MOTH. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook. What is a, b, spelt
backward with the horn on his head?
HOLOFERNES. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.
MOTH. Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning.
HOLOFERNES. Quis, quis, thou consonant?
MOTH. The third of the five vowels, if You repeat them; or the
fifth, if I.
HOLOFERNES. I will repeat them: a, e, I-
MOTH. The sheep; the other two concludes it: o, U.
ARMADO. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch,
a quick venue of wit- snip, snap, quick and home. It rejoiceth my
intellect. True wit!
MOTH. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.
HOLOFERNES. What is the figure? What is the figure?
MOTH. Horns.
HOLOFERNES. Thou disputes like an infant; go whip thy gig.
MOTH. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your
infamy circum circa- a gig of a cuckold's horn.
COSTARD. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it
to buy ginger-bread. Hold, there is the very remuneration I had
of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of
discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased that thou wert but
my bastard, what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to;
thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.
HOLOFERNES. O, I smell false Latin; 'dunghill' for unguem.
ARMADO. Arts-man, preambulate; we will be singuled from the
barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the
top of the mountain?
HOLOFERNES. Or mons, the hill.
ARMADO. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
HOLOFERNES. I do, sans question.
ARMADO. Sir, it is the King's most sweet pleasure and affection to
congratulate the Princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of
this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon.
HOLOFERNES. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable,
congruent, and measurable, for the afternoon. The word is well
cull'd, chose, sweet, and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.
ARMADO. Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do
assure ye, very good friend. For what is inward between us, let
it pass. I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy. I beseech
thee, apparel thy head. And among other importunate and most
serious designs, and of great import indeed, too- but let that
pass; for I must tell thee it will please his Grace, by the
world, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal
finger thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio; but,
sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable:
some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart
to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world;
but let that pass. The very all of all is- but, sweet heart, I do
implore secrecy- that the King would have me present the
Princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show,
or pageant, or antic, or firework. Now, understanding that the
curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions and sudden
breaking-out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal,
to the end to crave your assistance.
HOLOFERNES. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.
Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some
show in the posterior of this day, to be rend'red by our
assistance, the King's command, and this most gallant,
illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the Princess- I say
none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.
NATHANIEL. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?
HOLOFERNES. Joshua, yourself; myself, Alexander; this gallant
gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great
limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules.
ARMADO. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that
Worthy's thumb; he is not so big as the end of his club.
HOLOFERNES. Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in
minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I
will have an apology for that purpose.
MOTH. An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may
cry 'Well done, Hercules; now thou crushest the snake! ' That is
the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to
do it.
ARMADO. For the rest of the Worthies?
HOLOFERNES. I will play three myself.
MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
ARMADO. Shall I tell you a thing?
HOLOFERNES. We attend.
ARMADO. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you,
follow.
HOLOFERNES. Via, goodman Dull! Thou has spoken no word all this
while.
DULL. Nor understood none neither, sir.
HOLOFERNES. Allons! we will employ thee.
DULL. I'll make one in a dance, or so, or I will play
On the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay.
HOLOFERNES. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away.
Exeunt




SCENE II.
The park

Enter the PRINCESS, MARIA, KATHARINE, and ROSALINE

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving King.
ROSALINE. Madam, came nothing else along with that?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nothing but this! Yes, as much love in rhyme
As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper
Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
ROSALINE. That was the way to make his godhead wax;
For he hath been five thousand year a boy.
KATHARINE. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
ROSALINE. You'll ne'er be friends with him: 'a kill'd your sister.
KATHARINE. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
And so she died. Had she been light, like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might 'a been a grandam ere she died.
And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
ROSALINE. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?
KATHARINE. A light condition in a beauty dark.
ROSALINE. We need more light to find your meaning out.
KATHARINE. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.
ROSALINE. Look what you do, you do it still i' th' dark.
KATHARINE. So do not you; for you are a light wench.
ROSALINE. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.
KATHARINE. You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.
ROSALINE. Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.
'
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
But, Rosaline, you have a favour too?
Who sent it? and what is it?
ROSALINE. 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 Berowne;
The numbers true, and, were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Anything like?
ROSALINE. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Beauteous as ink- a good conclusion.
KATHARINE. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
ROSALINE. 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!
KATHARINE. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows!
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair
Dumain?
KATHARINE. Madam, this glove.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Did he not send you twain?
KATHARINE. Yes, madam; and, moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover;
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
MARIA. This, and these pearl, to me sent Longaville;
The letter is too long by half a mile.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
The chain were longer and the letter short?
MARIA. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
ROSALINE. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne I'll torture ere I go.
O that I knew he were but in by th' week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes,
And shape his service wholly to my hests,
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So pertaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. None are so surely caught, when they are
catch'd,
As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school,
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
ROSALINE. The blood of youth burns not with such excess
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
MARIA. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
As fool'ry in the wise when wit doth dote,
Since all the power thereof it doth apply
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

Enter BOYET

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
BOYET. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her Grace?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thy news, Boyet?
BOYET. Prepare, madam, prepare!
Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are
Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd.
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are they
That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.
BOYET. Under the cool shade of a sycamore
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
When, lo, to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The King and his companions; warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear-
That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage.
Action and accent did they teach him there:
'Thus must thou speak' and 'thus thy body bear,'
And ever and anon they made a doubt
Presence majestical would put him out;
'For' quoth the King 'an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously. '
The boy replied 'An angel is not evil;
I should have fear'd her had she been a devil. '
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus, and fleer'd, and swore
A better speech was never spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb
Cried 'Via! we will do't, come what will come. '
The third he caper'd, and cried 'All goes well. '
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
BOYET. They do, they do, and are apparell'd thus,
Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parley, court, and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And will they so? The gallants shall be task'd,
For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
And then the King will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.
ROSALINE. Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.
KATHARINE. But, in this changing, what is your intent?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
They do it but in mocking merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
Upon the next occasion that we meet
With visages display'd to talk and greet.
ROSALINE. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't?
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, to the death, we will not move a foot,
Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace;
But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.
BOYET. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
And quite divorce his memory from his part.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt
The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out.
There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown,
To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
And they well mock'd depart away with shame.
[Trumpet sounds within]
BOYET. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd; the maskers come.
[The LADIES mask]

Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the
KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians

MOTH. All hail, the richest heauties on the earth!
BOYET. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
MOTH. A holy parcel of the fairest dames
[The LADIES turn their backs to him]
That ever turn'd their- backs- to mortal views!
BEROWNE. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
MOTH. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
Out-
BOYET. True; out indeed.
MOTH. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold-
BEROWNE. Once to behold, rogue.
MOTH. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes- with your
sun-beamed eyes-
BOYET. They will not answer to that epithet;
You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes. '
MOTH. They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
BEROWNE. Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue.
Exit MOTH
ROSALINE. 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.
BOYET. What would you with the Princess?
BEROWNE. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE. What would they, say they?
BOYET. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
BOYET. She says you have it, and you may be gone.
KING. Say to her we have measur'd many miles
To tread a measure with her on this grass.
BOYET. They say that they have measur'd many a mile
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
ROSALINE. It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile? If they have measured many,
The measure, then, of one is eas'ly told.
BOYET. If to come hither you have measur'd miles,
And many miles, the Princess bids you tell
How many inches doth fill up one mile.
BEROWNE. Tell her we measure them by weary steps.
BOYET. She hears herself.
ROSALINE. How many weary steps
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone
Are numb'red in the travel of one mile?
BEROWNE. We number nothing that we spend for you;
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.
ROSALINE. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
KING. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do.
Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine,
Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
ROSALINE. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.
KING. Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange.
ROSALINE. Play, music, then. Nay, you must do it soon.
Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon.
KING. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
ROSALINE. You took the moon at full; but now she's changed.
KING. Yet still she is the Moon, and I the Man.
The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
ROSALINE. Our ears vouchsafe it.
KING. But your legs should do it.
ROSALINE.