[Aside.]
An amber-color’d raven was well noted.
Dum.
As upright as the cedar.
Ber. [Aside.]
Stoop, I say,
Her shoulder is with child.
Dum.
As fair as day.
Ber. [Aside.]
Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine.
Dum.
O that I had my wish!
Long. [Aside.]
And I had mine!
King [Aside.]
And mine too, good Lord!
Ber. [Aside.]
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
Dum.
I would forget her, but a fever she
Reigns in my blood, and will rememb’red be.
Ber. [Aside.]
A fever in your blood! why then incision
Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!
Dum.
Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
Ber. [Aside.]
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
Dum. (Reads his sonnet.)
“On a day—alack the day!—
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, can passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
[Wish’d] himself the heavens’ breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alack, my hand is sworn
Ne’er to pluck thee from thy [thorn];
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop were,
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.”
This will I send and something else more plain
That shall express my true love’s fasting pain.
O would the King, Berowne, and Longaville
Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a perjur’d note:
For none offend where all alike do dote.
Long. [Advancing.]
Dumaine, thy love is far from charity,
That in love’s grief desir’st society:
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
King [Advancing.]
Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such;
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You do not love Maria? Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush
And mark’d you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observ’d your fashion,
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion.
“Ay me!” says one, “O Jove!” the other cries;
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other’s eyes.
[To Longaville.]
You would for paradise break faith and troth,
[To Dumaine.]
And Jove for your love would infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall hear
Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear?
How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit!
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it!
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
Ber.
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
[Descending and advancing.]
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me!
Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no [coaches;]
