Enter the Princess, a Forester, her Ladies, Boyet and
her other Lords. PRINCESS
Was that the King that spurred his horse so hard
Against the steep uprising of the hill? FORESTER
I know not, but I think it was not he. PRINCESS
Whoe’er he was, he showed a mounting mind.—
Well, lords, today we shall have our dispatch. 5
Or Saturday we will return to France.—
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
That we must stand and play the murderer in? FORESTER
Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice,
A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. 10 PRINCESS
I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speakst “the fairest shoot.” FORESTER
Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. PRINCESS
What, what? First praise me, and again say no?
O short-lived pride. Not fair? Alack, for woe! 15 FORESTER
Yes, madam, fair. PRINCESS
Nay, never paint me now.
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true. She gives him money. Fair payment for foul words is more than due. 20 FORESTER
Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. PRINCESS
See, see, my beauty will be saved by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
But come, the bow. He hands her a bow. Now 25
mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do ’t;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill, 30
That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
And out of question so it is sometimes:
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
When for fame’s sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart; 35
As I for praise alone now seek to spill
The poor deer’s blood, that my heart means no ill. BOYET
Do not curst wives hold that self sovereignty
Only for praise’ sake when they strive to be
Lords o’er their lords? 40 PRINCESS
Only for praise; and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord. | The girls are on a hunt. The Princess is in a good mood and teases the Forester for not calling her fair (as in beautiful). She plans to kill a deer to win praise. |
Enter Clown Costard. BOYET
Here comes a member of the commonwealth. COSTARD
God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the
head lady? 45 PRINCESS
Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that
have no heads. COSTARD
Which is the greatest lady, the highest? PRINCESS
The thickest and the tallest. COSTARD
The thickest and the tallest: it is so, truth is 50
truth.
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One o’ these maids’ girdles for your waist should be
fit.
Are not you the chief woman? You are the thickest 55
here. PRINCESS
What’s your will, sir? What’s your will? COSTARD
I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to
one Lady Rosaline. PRINCESS
O, thy letter, thy letter! He’s a good friend of mine. 60
Stand aside, good bearer.—Boyet, you can carve.
Break up this capon. BOYET, taking the letter
I am bound to serve.
This letter is mistook; it importeth none here.
It is writ to Jaquenetta. 65 PRINCESS
We will read it, I swear.
Break the neck of the wax, and everyone give ear. BOYET reads.
"By heaven, that thou art fair is most
infallible, true that thou art beauteous, truth itself
that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful 70
than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration
on thy heroical vassal. The magnanimous and
most illustrate King Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious
and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it
was that might rightly say 'Veni, vidi, vici,' which to 75
annothanize in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar!)
videlicet, 'He came, see, and overcame': He
came, one; see, two; overcame, three. Who came? The
King. Why did he come? To see. Why did he see? To
overcome. To whom came he? To the beggar. What 80
saw he? The beggar. Who overcame he? The beggar.
The conclusion is victory. On whose side? The
King’s. The captive is enriched. On whose side? The
beggar’s. The catastrophe is a nuptial. On whose side?
The King’s—no, on both in one, or one in both. I am 85
the King, for so stands the comparison; thou the
beggar, for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command
thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could.
Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou
exchange for rags? Robes. For tittles? Titles. For thyself? 90
Me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy
foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every
part.
Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
Don Adriano de Armado. 95
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
’Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey.
Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play.
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? 100
Food for his rage, repasture for his den." PRINCESS
What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter?
What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear
better? BOYET
I am much deceived but I remember the style. 105 PRINCESS
Else your memory is bad, going o’er it erewhile. BOYET
This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court,
A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes
sport
To the Prince and his bookmates. 110 PRINCESS, to Costard
Thou, fellow, a word.
Who gave thee this letter? COSTARD I told you: my lord. PRINCESS
To whom shouldst thou give it? COSTARD From my lord to my 115
lady. PRINCESS
From which lord to which lady? COSTARD
From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France that he called Rosaline. PRINCESS
Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. 120
To Rosaline. Here, sweet, put up this; ’twill be
thine another day. The Princess, Katherine, Lords, and
Forester exit. Boyet, Rosaline, Maria,
and Costard remain. | Costard enters with a letter for Rosaline. Except that it's the wrong letter. The Princess holds Armado's letter to Jaquenetta, but Boyet reads it for laughs, anyway. It's long and ridiculous in its mock-learning. After a good bit of amusement, the Princess informs Costard that he's made a mistake and exits with half of her entourage. |
BOYET
Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter? ROSALINE
Shall I
teach you to know? 125 BOYET
Ay, my continent of beauty. ROSALINE
Why, she that bears the bow.
Finely put off. BOYET
My lady goes to kill horns, but if thou marry,
Hang me by the neck if horns that year miscarry. 130
Finely put on. ROSALINE
Well, then, I am the shooter. BOYET
And who is your deer? ROSALINE
If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
Finely put on, indeed. 135 MARIA
You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at
the brow. BOYET
But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now? ROSALINE
Shall I come upon thee with an old saying,
that was a man when King Pippen of France was a 140
little boy, as touching the hit it? BOYET
So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a
woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little
wench, as touching the hit it. ROSALINE sings
Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, 145
Thou canst not hit it, my good man. BOYET sings
An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can. Rosaline exits. COSTARD
By my troth, most pleasant. How both did fit it! MARIA
A mark marvelous well shot, for they both did hit 150
it. BOYET
A mark! O, mark but that mark. “A mark,” says my
lady.
Let the mark have a prick in ’t to mete at, if it may
be. 155 MARIA
Wide o’ the bow hand! I’ faith, your hand is out. COSTARD
Indeed, he must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the
clout. BOYET, to Maria
An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. COSTARD
Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. 160 MARIA
Come, come, you talk greasily. Your lips grow foul. COSTARD, to Boyet
She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir. Challenge her
to bowl. BOYET
I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. Boyet and Maria exit. | Boyet is amused that Berowne's sent Rosaline a letter and teases her about her suitor. She gives it right back to him. She exits and Maria gets in on the game, as does Costard. Lots of fun sexual innuendo ensues about "marks," "pricks," and "upshots." |
COSTARD
By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown. 165
Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him
down.
O’ my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar
wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it 170
were, so fit.
Armado o’ th’ one side, O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan.
To see him kiss his hand, and how most sweetly he
will swear. 175
And his page o’ t’ other side, that handful of wit!
Ah heavens, it is a most pathetical nit. Shout within. Sola, sola! He exits. | Left alone, Costard gives a summary of the amusing characters populating the court at the moment. |