Arm. Changes to Armado's House. Enter Armado and Moth. BOY, what fign is it, when a man of great fpirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great fign, Sir, that he will look fad. Arm. Why, fadness is one and the self-fame thing, dear imp (1). Moth. No, no; O lord, Sir, no. Arm. How can't thou part fadnefs and melancholy, my tender Juvenile ? Moth. By a familiar demonftration of the working, my tough Signior. Arm. Why, tough Signior? why, tough Signior? Moth. Why, tender Juvenile ? why, tender Juvenile? Arm. I fpoke it, tender Juvenile, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough Signior, 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 faying apt? or I apt, and my faying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, becaufe little. Moth. Little pretty, because little; wherefore apt? Arm. And therefore apt, because quick. Moth. Speak you this in my praife, mafter? Arm. In thy condign praife. Moth. I will praise an eel with the fame praife. Moth. That an eel is quick. Arm. I do fay, thou art quick in anfwers. Thou heat'ft my blood (1) dear Imp.] Imp was anciently a term of dignity. Lord Cromwel in his last letter to Henry VIII prays for the imp his fon. It is now used only in contempt or abhorrence; perhaps in our authour's time it was ambiguous, in which ftate it fuits well with this dialogue. VOL. II. P Moth. Moth. I am answer'd, Sir. Arm. I love not to be croft. Moth. He fpeaks the clean contrary, croffes love not him (2). Arm. I have promis'd to ftudy three years with the King. Moth. You may do it in an hour, Sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the fpirit of a tapfter. Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamefter. Arm. I confefs both; they are both the varnish of a compleat man. Moth. Then, I am fure, you know how much the grofs fum of duce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. Which the bafe vulgar call, three. Arm. True. Moth. Why, Sir, is this fuch a piece of study? now here's three ftudied ere you'll thrice wink; and how eafy is it to put years to the word three, and ftudy three years in two words, the dancing-horfe will tell you Arm. A moft fine figure. Meth. To prove you a cypher. (2) croffes love not bim.] By croffes he means money. So in As you like it, the Clown fays to Celia, if I should bear you, I should bear no cross. * And bow eafy is it to put years to the word three, and ftudy three years in two words, the dancing horfe will tell you.] Banks's borse, which plaid many remarkable pranks. Sir Walter Raleigh, (Hiftory of the World, first part, p. 178) fays "If Banks had lived "in older times, he would have hamed all the inchanters in the "world: for whofoever was most famous among them could never "mafter, or inftruct any beaft as he did his horse." And Sir Kenelm Digby (a Treatife of Bodies, chap. 38. p. 393.) obferves, "That this horfe would reftore a glove to the due owner, after the mafter had whispered the man's name in his ear; would "tell the juft number of pence in any piece of filver coin, newly "fhewed him by his mafter; and even obey prefently his command, "in difcharging himself of his excrements, whenfoever he bade "him." Dr. GRAY. Arm. Arm. I will hereupon confefs, I am in love; and, as it is bafe for a foldier to love, so I am in love with a bafe wench. If drawing my fword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Defire prifoner; and ranfom him to any French courtier for a new-devis'd curt'fy. I think it fcorn to figh; methinks, I fhould out-fwear Cupid. Comfort me, boy; what great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, mafter. Arm. Moft fweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, fweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Meth. Sampfon, mafter; he was a man of good carriage; great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love. Arm. O well-knit Samplen, ftrong-jointed Sampfon! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou did me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampfon's love, my dear Moth? Moth. A woman, mafter. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. Arm Tell me precifely 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 fmall reafon for it. He, furely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was fo, Sir, for fhe had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth Moft maculate thoughts, mafter, are mafk'd under fuch colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, affift me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child, moft pretty and pathetical! P 2 Moth If the be made of white and red, By this you fhall not know; For ftill her cheeks poffefs the fame, A dangerous thime, mafter, against the reafon of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? Moth. The world was guilty of fuch a ballad fome three ages fince, but, I think, now 'tis not to be found or if it were, it would neither ferve for the writing, nor the tune. Arm. I will have that fubject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digreffion by fome mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Coftard; the deferves well Moth. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my mafter deferves. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. Arm. I fay, fing. Moth. Forbear, 'till this company is paft. Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta, a Maid. Dull. Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Coftard fafe, and you must let him take no delight, nor RO penance; but he muft faft three days a-week. For this damfel, I must keep her at the park, fhe is allow'd for the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myfelf with blufhing; maid,- Arm. I will vifit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That's here by. Arm. I know where it is fituate. Jaq. Jaq. Lord, how wife you are! Arm. I will tell thee wonders. Jaq. With that face ? Arm. I love thee. Jaq. So I heard you fay. Arm. And fo farewel. Faq Fair weather after you!' Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away (3). [Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt faft for thy offence, ere thou be pardoned. Coft. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I fhall do it on a full ftomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punish'd. Coft. I am more bound to you, than your for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain, fhut him up. ing loofe. ; followers; I will faft, be Moth. No, Sir, that were faft and loofe; thou fhalt to prifon. Coft. Well, if ever I do fee the merry days of defolation that I have seen, fome shall fee Moth. What shall fome fee? Cft. Nay, nothing, mafter Moth, but what they (3) Maid. Fair weather after you. Come, Jaquenetta, away.] Thus all the printed Copies: but the Editors have been guilty of much Inadvertence. They make Jaquenetta and a Maid enter; whereas Jaquenetta is the only Maid intended by the Poet, and is committed to the Cuftody of Dull, to be conveyed by him to the Lodge in the Park. This being the Cafe, it is evident to Demonftration, that.Fair weather after you- -must be fpoken by Jaquenetta; and then that Dull fays to her, Come, Jaquenetta, away, as I have regulated the Text. THEOBALD. Mr. Theobald has endeavoured here to dignify his own industry by a very flight performance. The folios all read as he reads, except that inftead of naming the perfons they give their characters, enter Clown, Conftable, and Wench. |