« AnkstesnisTęsti »
Of him that hears it, never in the Tongue
But if they will not, throw away that Spirit,
Biron. A Twelve-month? Well, befall who will befall, I'll jeft a Twelve-month in an Hospital.
Prin. Ay, fweet my Lord, and fo I take my Leave.
[to the King. King. No Madam, we will bring you on your way. Biron. Our Wooing doth not end like an old Play; Fack hath not Fill; Thefe Ladies Courtefie Might well have made our Sport a Comedy.
King. Come, Sir, it wants a Twelve-month and a Day, And then 'twill end..
Biron. That's too long for a Play.
Arm. Sweet Majefty, vouchfafe me.
Dum. The worthy Knight of Troy.
Arm. I will kifs thy Royal Finger, and take Leave. I am a Votary, I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the Plough for her fweet Love three Years. But most esteem'd Greatness, will you hear the Dialogue that the two Learned Men have compiled, in praife of the Owl and the Cuckow? It fhould have follow'd in the End of our Shew.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do fo.
This fide is Hiems, Winter.
This Ver, the Spring: The one maintain'd by the Owl,
The SON G.
When Dafies pied, and Violets blue,
Cuckow, Cuckow: Ọ Word of Fear,
When Shepherds Pipe on Oaten Straws,
Cuckow, Cuckow: O Word of Fear,
When Ificles hang by the Wall,
And Dick the Shepherd blows his Nail;
A merry Note,
While greafie Jone doth keel the Pot.
When all aloud the Wind doth blow,