_Biron._ Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. Can any face of brass hold longer out? 395 Here stand I: lady, dart thy skill at me; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance; Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance, 400 Nor never more in Russian habit wait. O, never will I trust to speeches penn’d, Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue; Nor never come in vizard to my friend; Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper’s song! 405 Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation: I do forswear them; and I here protest, 410 By this white glove,—how white the hand, God knows!— Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express’d In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes: And, to begin, wench,—so God help me, la!— My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw. 415 _Ros._ Sans sans, I pray you. _Biron._ Yet I have a trick Of the old rage:—bear with me, I am sick; I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see: Write, ‘Lord have mercy on us’ on those three; They are infected; in their hearts it lies; 420 They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes; These lords are visited; you are not free, For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see. _Prin._ No, they are free that gave these tokens to us. _Biron._ Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us. 425 _Ros._ It is not so; for how can this be true, That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? _Biron._ Peace! for I will not have to do with you. _Ros._ Nor shall not, if I do as I intend. _Biron._ Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end. 430 _King._ Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression Some fair excuse. _Prin._ The fairest is confession. Were not you here but even now disguised? _King._ Madam, I was. _Prin._ And were you well advised? _King._ I was, fair madam. _Prin._ When you then were here, 435 What did you whisper in your lady’s ear? _King._ That more than all the world I did respect her. _Prin._ When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. _King._ Upon mine honour, no. _Prin._ Peace, peace! forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. 440 _King._ Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. _Prin._ I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline, What did the Russian whisper in your ear? _Ros._ Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear As precious eyesight, and did value me 445 Above this world; adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die my lover.