Page 2437 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

(To Dumaine)
And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall hear
Faith infringèd, which such zeal did swear?
How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit! [145]
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.

BEROWNE

(advancing)
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me. [150]
Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
There is no certain princess that appears;
You’ll not be perjured, ’tis a hateful thing; [155]
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!
But are you not ashamed? Nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o’ershot?
You found his mote, the King your mote did see;
But I a beam do find in each of three. [160]
O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformèd to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gig, [165]
And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
Where lies thy grief? O, tell me, good Dumaine.
And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain? [170]
And where my liege’s? All about the breast.
A caudle, ho!

KING

Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view?

BEROWNE