|
BIRON
A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall,
I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
PRINCESS
[To FERDINAND] Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
FERDINAND
No, madam; we will bring you on your way.
BIRON
Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.
FERDINAND
Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
And then 'twill end.
BIRON
That's too long for a play.
Re-enter ARMADO
ARMADO
Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,--
PRINCESS
Was not that Hector?
DUMAIN
The worthy knight of Troy.
ARMADO
I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am
a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the
plough for her sweet love three years. But, most
esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that
the two learned men have compiled in praise of the
owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the end of our show.
FERDINAND
Call them forth quickly; we will do so.
ARMADO
Holla! approach.
Re-enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD, and others
This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring;
the one maintained by the owl, the other by the
cuckoo. Ver, begin.
THE SONG
SPRING.
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
WINTER.
When icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
And Tom bears logs into the hall
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow
And coughing drowns the parson's saw
And birds sit brooding in the snow
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
ARMADO
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of
Apollo. You that way: we this way.
Exeunt
|
