King. Ay me!
Ber. [Aside.] Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid, thou hast thump’d him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
King [Reads.]
“So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows;
Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
As doth thy face through tears of mine give light.
Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep,
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my grief will show.
But do not love thyself, then thou [wilt] keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.”
How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper.
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
Enter Longaville [with a paper]. The King steps aside.
What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, ear.
Ber. [Aside.]
Now in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
Long.
Ay me, I am forsworn!
Ber. [Aside.]
Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
[King] [Aside.]
In love, I hope—sweet fellowship in shame.
Ber. [Aside.]
One drunkard loves another of the name.
Long.
Am I the first that have been perjur’d so?
Ber. [Aside.]
I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know.
Thou makest the triumphery, the corner-cap of society,
The shape of love’s Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.
Long.
I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move.
O sweet Maria, empress of my love,
These numbers will I tear, and write in prose!
Ber. [Aside.]
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose:
Disfigure not his shop.
Long.
This same shall go.
He reads the sonnet.
“Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
’Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore, but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee.
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapor is;
Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
Exhal’st this vapor-vow; in thee it is.
If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To lose an oath to win a paradise?”
Ber. [Aside.]
This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity,
A green goose a goddess; pure, pure [idolatry].
God amend us, God amend! we are much out a’ th’ way.
Enter Dumaine [with a paper].
Long.
By whom shall I send this?—Company? Stay.
[Steps aside.]
Ber. [Aside.]
“All hid, all hid,” an old infant play.
Like a demigod here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’er-eye.
More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish!
Dumaine transformed! four woodcocks in a dish!
Dum.
O most divine Kate!
Ber. [Aside.]
O most profane coxcomb!
Dum.
By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
Ber. [Aside.]
By earth, she is not, corporal, there you lie.
Dum.
Her amber hairs for
