Page:Love's Labour's Lost (1925) Yale.djvu/96

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And consciences, that will not die in debt,

Pay him the due of honey-tongu'd Boyet.

King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,

That put Armado's page out of his part!

Ber. See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou,

Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now?

King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!

Prin, 'Fair,' in 'all hail,' is foul, as I conceive.

King. Construe my speeches better, if you may.

Prin. Then wish me better: I will give you leave.

King. We came to visit you, and purpose now

To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then.

Prin. This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow:

Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men.

King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke:

The virtue of your eye must break my oath.

Prin. You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.

Now, by my maiden honour, yet as pure

As the unsullied lily, I protest,

A world of torments though I should endure,

I would not yield to be your house's guest;

So much I hate a breaking cause to be

Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.

King. O, you have liv'd in desolation here,

Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.

Prin. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;

We have had pastimes here and pleasant game.

 339 man; cf. n.

350 nickname: misname

