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Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this garden,

To drive away the heavy thought of care?

First Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls.

Queen. 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs,

And that my fortune runs against the bias.

First Lady. Madam, we'll dance.

Queen. My legs can keep no measure in delight

When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief:

Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport.

First Lady. Madam, we'll tell tales.

Queen. Of sorrow or of joy?

First Lady. Of either, madam.

Queen. Of neither, girl:

For if of joy, being altogether wanting,

It doth remember me the more of sorrow;

Or if of grief, being altogether had,

It adds more sorrow to my want of joy:

For what I have I need not to repeat,

And what I want it boots not to complain.

First Lady. Madam, I'll sing.

Queen. 'Tis well that thou hast cause;

But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou weep.

First Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good.

Queen. And I could sing would weeping do me good,

 3–5 Cf. n.

7, 8 Cf. n.

22 Cf. n.

