Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight

Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent? Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs: They doe it but in mocking merriment, And mocke for mocke is onely my intent. Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall, To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall. Vpon the next occasion that we meete, With Visages displayd to talke and greete

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't? Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot, Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face

Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart, And quite diuorce his memory from his part

Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt, The rest will ere come in, if he be out. Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne: To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne. So shall we stay mocking entended game, And they well mockt, depart away with shame.


Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers come. Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the rest of the Lords disguised.

Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth

Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata

Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes.

The Ladies turne their backes to him.

Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes

Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes. Out Boy. True, out indeed

Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe Not to beholde

Ber. Once to behold, rogue

Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes, With your Sunne beamed eyes

Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite, you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes

Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out

Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue

Rosa. What would these strangers? Know their mindes Boyet. If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will That some plaine man recount their purposes. Know what they would? Boyet. What would you with the Princes? Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation

Ros. What would they, say they? Boy. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation

Rosa. Why that they haue, and bid them so be gon

Boy. She saies you haue it, and you may be gon

Kin. Say to her we haue measur'd many miles, To tread a Measure with you on the grasse

Boy. They say that they haue measur'd many a mile, To tread a Measure with you on this grasse

Rosa. It is not so. Aske them how many inches Is in one mile? If they haue measur'd manie, The measure then of one is easlie told

Boy. If to come hither, you haue measur'd miles, And many miles: the Princesse bids you tell, How many inches doth fill vp one mile? Ber. Tell her we measure them by weary steps

Boy. She heares her selfe

Rosa. How manie wearie steps, Of many wearie miles you haue ore-gone, Are numbred in the trauell of one mile? Bero. We number nothing that we spend for you, Our dutie is so rich, so infinite, That we may doe it still without accompt. Vouchsafe to shew the sunshine of your face, That we (like sauages) may worship it

Rosa. My face is but a Moone and clouded too

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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