Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty, and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir; I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little. Moth. Little pretty, because little : Wherefore apt? Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: Thou heatest my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses love not him. [Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere you'll thrice wink : and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! [Aside. Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and, as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks, I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: What great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master. Arm. Most sweet Hercules! - More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Sampson, master; he was a man of good carriage, great carriage; for he carried the towngates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Sampson! strong-jointed Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too, Who was Sampson's love, my dear Moth? Moth. A woman, master. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two; or one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion? Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, sir: and the best of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Sampson had small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me. Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, By this you shall not know; A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar. Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune. Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. [Aside. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel,loving a light wench. Arm. I say, sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter DULL, COSTARD, and Jaquenetta. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a-week For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.- Maid Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That's hereby. Arm. I know where it is situate. Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! Arm. I will tell thee wonders. Jaq. So I heard you say. Jaq. Fair weather after you! [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA Arm. Villain, thou shall fast for thy offences cre thou be pardoned, Cast. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it en a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cast. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Sampson was so tempted; and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good wit. Math. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, shalt to prison. and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. Cast. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of de- The first and second cause will not serve my turn; solation that I have seen, some shall see Moth. What shall some see? Cast. Nay nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and, therefore, I will say nothing: I thank God, I have as little patience as another man; and, therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt MоTH and COSTARD. the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.-Another part of the same. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA, Consider who the king your father sends; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, [Erit. Pria. All pride is willing pride, and your's is so. Who are the votaries, my loving lords, Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth, Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Ros. Another of these students at that time Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? Mar. Here comes Boyet. Prin. Re-enter BOYET. Now, what admittance, lord? Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he, and his competitors in oath, Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady, Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt, He rather means to lodge you in the field, (Like one that comes here to besiege his court,) Than seek a dispensation for his oath, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The Ladies mask. Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; To ask the question! Biron. How needless was it then You must not be so quick. Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools should ask. Biron. Now fair befall your mask! Ros. Fair fall the face it covers ! Biron. And send you many lovers! King. Madam, your father here doth intimate But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,) A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, Although not valued to the money's worth. Where that and other specialties are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace! King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt KING and his train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan. Ros. Is the fool sick? Biron. Sick at heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physick says, I. Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? Ros. And yours from long living! [Retiring Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the | The civil war of wits were much better used white? Byet. A woman sometimes, an vou saw her in the light. Lang. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name. Byet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame. Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Long. God's blessing on your beard! Long. Nay, my choler is ended. Bayet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. [Erit LONG. Beyt. To her will, sir, or so. Buyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry! And wherefore not ships? No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her. Mar. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though several they be. Boyet. Belonging to whom? Mar. To my fortunes and me. Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree: On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused. Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. I only have made a mouth of his eye, skilfully. ACT III. SCENE I.- Another part of the same. Enter ARMADO and MoTH. Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Math. Concolinel [Singing. Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. Math. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl? Arm. How mean'st thou? brawling in French? Math. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; sgh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches - that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men?) that most are af fected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. - the hobby-horse is forgot. Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love? Arm. Almost I had. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? Math. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the instant: By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her: in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her. Arm. I am all these three. Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all. Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. Moth. A message well sympathized; a horse to be embassador for an ass! Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou? Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go. Arm. The way is but short; away. Moth. As swift as lead, sir. Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? Thump then, and I flee. [Exit. Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace! By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face: Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. Re-enter MоTH and COSTARD. Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken in a shin. Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l'envoy; - begin. Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain ! Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve? Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve? Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, There's the moral: Now the l'envoy. Moth. I will add the l'envoy: say the moral again. Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three: Moth. Until the goose came out of door, And stay'd the odds by adding four. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l'envoy. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three: Arm. Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four. your argument in ; Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought; And he ended the market. Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin? Moth. I will tell you sensibly. Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy. I, Costard, running out, that was safely within. Arm. We will talk no more of this matter. Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound. Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose. Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this Bear this significant to the country maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [giving him money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. (Erit. Moth. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, -- adieu. Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew! [Exit MoTH. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings-remuneration. — What's the price of this inkle? a penny :- No, I'll give you a remuneration why, it carries it. — Remuneration! why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word. Enter BIRON. Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met. Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration? Biron. What is a remuneration? Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk. Cost. When would you have it done, sir? Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well. Cost. I shall know, sir, when I have done it. |