A mess of Russians left us but of late.
King. How, madam! Russians?
Prin. Ay, in truth, my lord;
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. 364
Ros. 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 368
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, 372
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
Ber. This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet,
Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet,
With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye, 376
By light we lose light: your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
Ros. This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye— 380
Ber. I am a fool, and full of poverty.
Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
Ber. O, I am yours, and all that I possess. 384
Ros. All the fool mine?
Ber. I cannot give you less.
Ros. Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
Ber. Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this?
Ros. There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case 388
362 mess; cf. IV. iii. 207
366 to the manner: after the fashion
374 dry: without savor (with pun on 'thirsty')
