the dice In honourable terms: nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and in ushering Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet: This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whale's bone; And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado's page out of his part! See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now? All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! 'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Then wish me better; I will give you leave. We came to visit you, and purpose now To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow: Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke: The virtue of your eye must break my oath. 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. O, you have lived in desolation here, Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear; We have had pastimes here and pleasant game: A mess of Russians left us but of late. How, madam! Russians! Ay, in truth, my lord; Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord: My lady, to the manner of the days, In courtesy gives undeserving praise. We four indeed confronted were with four In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour, And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, They did not bless us with one happy word. I dare not call them fools; but this I think, When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet, Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet, With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye, By light we lose light: your capacity Is of that nature that to your huge store Wise things seem foolish and