[Mar.]
They say so most that most his humors know.
Prin.
Such short-liv’d wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
[Kath.]
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 Alanson’s once,
And much too little of that good I saw
Is my report to his great worthiness.
[Ros.]
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.
Prin.
God bless my ladies! are they all in love,
That every one her own hath garnished
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
[1.] Lord.
Here comes Boyet.
Enter Boyet.
Prin.
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, thus 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 [unpeopled] house.
Enter [Ferdinand, King of] Navarre, Longaville, Dumaine, and Berowne, [and Attendants].
Here comes Navarre.
[The ladies-in-waiting mask.]
King.
Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.
Prin. “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.
Prin.
I will be welcome then—conduct me thither.
King.
Hear me, dear lady: I have sworn an oath.
Prin.
Our Lady help my lord! he’ll be forsworn.
King.
Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
Prin.
Why, will shall break it, will, and nothing else.
King.
Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
Prin.
Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear your Grace hath sworn out house-keeping:
’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 suddenly resolve me in my suit.
[Giving a paper.]
King.
Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
Prin.
You will the sooner, that I were away,
For you’ll prove perjur’d if you make me stay.
Ber.
Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Kath.
Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ber.
I know you did.
