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S CE NE II.

Re-enter Moth and Coftard *.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance ; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:

no

- and Costard. Moth. A wonder, Master; here's a Costard broken in a sin. Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy l'envoy begin.

Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy ; no salve in the male, Sir. Sir, plantan, a plain plantan; envoy,

no l' envoy, or salve, sir, but plantan.

Arm. By virtue, thou enforceft laughter ; thy silly thought, my
spleen ; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smil-
ing : O pardon me, my stars! doth the inconsiderate take salve
for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a salve ?
Moth. Doth 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 fain.
I will example it. Now will I begin your moral, and do you

fol-
low with my l'envoy.
The fox, the ape, and the humble bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
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.
A good Penvoy, ending in the goose; would you desire more?

Coft. The boy hath Told him a bargain ; a goose, that's flat;
Sir, your pennyworth is good, an' your goose be fat.
To fell a bargain well is as cunning as falt and loose.
Let me see a fat l'envoy ; I, that's a fat goose.

Arm. Come hither, come hither;
How did this argument begin?

Moth. By saying, that a Coftard was broken in a shin,
Then call'd you for a l' envoy.

Cost. True, and I for a plantan ;
Thus came the 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 fhin?
Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth.
I will speak that l'envoy.
Costard running out, that was fafely within,
'Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.

bear this fignificant to the country-maid Jaquenetta ; there is remuneration ; for the best ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.

[Exit. Moth. Like the sequel, I. Signior Coftard, adieu !

[Exit. Coft. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my in-cony jewel! 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 incle ? a penny. No, I'll give you a remuneration : why, it carries it. Remuneration !—why, it is a fairer name than a French crown. I will never buy and fell out of this word.

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Biron. O my good knave Costard, exceedingly well

met.

Coft. Pray you, Sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration ?

Biron. What is a remuneration ?
Coft. Marry, Sir, half-penny farthing.
Biron. O, why then three farthings worth of silk.
Coft. I thank your Worship, God be with you.

Biron. O stay, slave, I must employ thee :
As thou wilt win my favour, my good knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall intreat.

Cost. When would you have it done, Sir ?
Biron. O, this afternoon.
Coft. Well, I will do it, Sir: fare

you
Biron, O, thou knoweft not what it is.
Coft. I shall know, Sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.

well.

Coft. Till there be more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah, Costard, will infranchise thee.

Coft: 0, marry me to one Francis ; I smell some l'envoy, fome goose in this.

Arm. By my sweet foul, I mean, setting thee at liberty; enfreedoning thy person; thou wert immur'd, restrained, captivated, bound.

Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let Arm. I give, &c.

me loose.

Coft. I will come to your Worship to

morrow morning.
Biron. It must be done this afternoon.
Hark, nave, it is but this :
The Princess comes to hunt here in the park :
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her; ask for her,
And to her sweet hand see thou do commend
This seal’d-up counsel. There's thy guerdon ; go.

Coft. Guerdon, sweet guerdon! better than remuneration, eleven pence farthing better : most sweet guerdon! I will do it, Sir, in print. Guerdon, remuperation.

[Exit.
Biron. O! and I, forsooth, in love!
I, that have been love's whip;
A very beadle to a humourous sigh;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal more magnificent.
This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
This Signior Junio's giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid,
Regent of love-rhimes, lord of folded arms,
Th’ anointed sovereign of fighs and groans :
Liege of all loiterers and malecontents :
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces :
Sole imperator, and great general
Of trotting parators : (O my little heart !)
And I to be a corporal of his file,
And wear his colours ! like a tumbler, stoop!
What? I love! I fue! I seek a wife !
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing ; ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd, that it may still go right!
Nay, to be perjur’d, which is worst of all :
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes ;
Ay, and by Heav'n, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard ;
And I to figh for her! to watch for her !
To pray for her ! go to :-it is a plague,

A

That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty, dreadful, little might.
Well, I will love, write, figh, pray, sue, and grone :
Some men must love my Lady, and some Joan. [Exit.

А ст

IV.

S CE N E

I.

A pavilion in the park near the palace.

Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Catharine, Lords,

attendants, and a Forester. Prin. W AS that the King that spurr'd his horse fo WA

hard Against the steep uprising of the hill ? Boyet. I know not; but I think it was not he.

Prin. Whoe'er he was, he shew'd a mounting mind. Well, Lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch ; On Saturday we will return to France. Then, Forefter, my friend, where is the bush, That we must stand and play the murderer in ?

For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice ; A ftand, where you may make the fairest shoot *.

the faireft shoot. Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair, that shoot: And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot.

For. Pardon me, Madam; for I meant not so.

Prin. What, what? first praise me, then again fay, no? o fort-liv'd pride! not fair? alack, for wo!

For. Yes, Madam, fair.
Prin. Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.

For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.

Prin. See, see, my beauty will be fav’d by merit.
O heresy is fair, fit for these days !
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
But come, the bow; now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot,
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't:
If wounding, then it was to fhew my skill;
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.

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Boyet. Here comes a member of the commonwealtht. Cost. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one La

dy Rosaline. Prin. Othy letter, thy letter : he's a good friend

of mine.
Stand aside, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve :
Break up this capon *.

Boyet. I am bound to serve.
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

Prin. We will read it, I swear.
Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.

Boyet reads.
r heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible ; true,

that thou art beauteous ; truth itself; that thou art lovely; more fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself; have commiseration on thy heroical And, out of question, so it is sometimes; Glory grows guilty of detested crimes; When for fame's fake, for praise, an outward part, We bend to that the working of the heart. As I for praise alone now seek to spill The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.

Boyet. Do not curs’d wives hold that self-lovereignty
Only for praise-fake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise ; and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues her lord.

Enter Costard. Boyet. Here comes, &c. + commonwealth.

Cost. God dig you-den all; pray you, which is the head lady?

Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

Coft. Which is the greatest lady, the highest ?
Prin. The thickest and the tallest.

Cost. The thickest and the tallest; it is fo, truth is truth.
An' my waste, mistress, were as slender as your wit,
One o' these maids girdles for my waste should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.

Prin. What's your will, Sir? what's your will!
Cost. I have, &c.

* Meaning the letter, as poulet in French signifies both a chicken and a love-letter.

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