I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion. 'Ay me!' says one. 'O Jove!' the other cries. One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other's eyes. [To LONGAVILLE] You would for paradise break faith and troth; [To DUMAIN] And Jove for your love would infringe an oath. What will Berowne say when that he shall hear Faith infringed which such zeal did swear? How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit! 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. [Descending] Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy, Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me. 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 perjur'd; 'tis a hateful thing; 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. O, what a scene of fool'ry 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 transformed to a gnat! To see great Hercules whipping a gig, 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 Dumain? And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain? 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. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. I that am honest, I that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in; I am betrayed by keeping company With men like you, men of inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time In pruning me? When shall you hear that I Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, A leg, a limb- KING. Soft! whither away so fast? A true man or a thief that gallops so? BEROWNE. I post from love; good lover, let me go. Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD