13291233Sir I do inuite you too, you
shall not
say me nay:
pauca verba.
13311234Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our re
- 13331236Enter Berowne with a paper in his hand, alone. 13341237Berow. The King he is hunting the Deare,
13361239They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch, pytch
13371240that de
files; de
file, a foule worde: Well,
set thee downe
13381241sorrow; for
so they
say the foole
sayd, and
so
say I, and I the
13391242foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this Loue is as madd
13401243as
Aiax, it kills Sheepe, it kills mee, I a Sheepe well prooued
13411244againe a my
side. I will not loue; if I do hang mee: I'fayth
13421245I will not. O but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I
13431246would not loue her; yes for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing
13441247in the world but lie, and lie in my throate. By heauen I doe
13451248loue, and it hath taught me to rime, and to be mallicholie:
13461249and heere is part of my Rime, and heare my mallicholie.
13471250Well,
she hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore
13491251it, the Foole
sent it, and the Lady hath it:
sweete Clowne,
13501252sweeter Foole,
sweete
st Lady. By the worlde, I woulde not
13511253care a pin, if the other three were in. Heere comes one with
13521254a paper, God giue him grace to grone.
13531255He standes a side. The King entreth. 13551257Be. Shot by heauen, proceed
sweet
Cupid, thou ha
st thumpt
13561258him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left papp: in fayth
secrets.
So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not,
13591260To tho
se fre
sh morning dropps vpon the Ro
se,
13601261As thy eye beames, when their fre
sh ray
se haue
smot.
13611262The night of dew that on my cheekes downe
flowes,
13621263Nor
shines the
siluer Moone one halfe
so bright,
13631264Through the tran
sparent bo
some of the deepe,
13641265As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light:
13651266Thou
shin
st in euerie teare that I do weepe,
13661267No drop but as a Coach doth carrie thee:
13671268So ride
st thou triumphing in my wo.
13681269Do but beholde the teares that
swell in me,
13691270And they thy glorie through my griefe will
show:
But