_Dum._ I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remember’d be. _Biron._ A fever in your blood! why, then incision Would let her out in saucers: sweet misprision! _Dum._ Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ. 95 _Biron._ Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit. _Dum._ [_reads_] On a day—alack the day!— Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: 100 Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen, can passage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish himself the heaven’s breath. Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow; 105 Air, would I might triumph so! But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn; Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, Youth so apt to pluck a sweet! 110 Do not call it sin in me, That I am forsworn for thee; Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were; And deny himself for Jove, 115 Turning mortal for thy love. This will I send and something else more plain, That shall express my true love’s fasting pain. O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville, Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill, 120 Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note; For none offend where all alike do dote. _Long._ [_advancing_]. Dumain, thy love is far from charity, That in love’s grief desirest society: You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, 125 To be o’erheard and taken napping so. _King_ [_advancing_]. Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such; You chide at him, offending twice as much; You do not love Maria; Longaville Did never sonnet for her sake compile, 130 Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart His loving bosom, to keep down his heart. I have been closely shrouded in this bush And mark’d you both and for you both did blush: I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion, 135 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: You would for paradise break faith and troth; [_To Long._ And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath. [_To Dum._ 140 What will Biron 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, 145 I would not have him know so much by me.