Excerpt: ...  All unseen, ''gan passage find;   That the lover, sick to death,   Wish''d himself the heaven''s breath.   Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;   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.   Do not call it sin in me,   That I am forsworn for thee;   Thou for whom e''en Jove would swear   Juno but an Ethiope were;   And deny himself for Jove,   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, Berowne and Longaville Were lovers too. Ill, to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a perjur''d note; For none offend where all alike do dote. LONGAVILLE. Advancing. Dumain, thy love is far from charity, That in love''s grief desir''st society; You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, 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; 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 rimes, observ''d your fashion, 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: To LONGAVILLE You would for paradise break faith and troth; To DUMAIN And Jove, for your love would infringe an oath. What will Berowne 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, I would not have him know so much by me. BEROWNE. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. Descends from the tree. Ah! good my...