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Moth. That an eel is quick.

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, crosses1 love not him. [Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.
Arm. Impossible.

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. Which the base vulgar do call, three.
Arm. True.

Moth. If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shown:
Then, if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know;
For still her cheeks possess the same,
Which native she doth owe.2

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 spirits grow heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light

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-wench. horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!
Moth. To prove you a cypher.

[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. Samson, 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 Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too,-Who was Samson'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.
Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir.

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, Samson 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!

(1) The name of a coin once current.
(2) Of which she is naturally possessed.

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. With that face?
Arm. I love thee.
Jaq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell.
Jaq. Fair weather after you!
Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away.

[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

Cost. 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.

Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall seeMoth. What shall some see?

Cost. 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 Moth and Costard. Arm. I do affects the very ground, which is base, (3) Transgression. (4) Dairy-woman. (5) Love, X

where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn Of Jacques Falconbridge solemnized, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: In Normandy saw I this Longaville: and how can that be true love, which is falsely at-A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; tempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms: is no evil angel but love. Yet Samson was so Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. tempted: and he had an excellent strength: yet The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good (If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,) wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will; club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello It 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 sonnetteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole Who are the rest? volumes in folio. [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I-Another part of the same. A pavi- I lion and tents at a distance. Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other attendants.

Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest
spirits:

Consider who the king your father sends;
To whom he sends; and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain; a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but
mean,

Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,"
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker,-Good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor:

Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Impórtunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go.

[Exit.

Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.-
Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
1 Lord. Longaville is one.
Prin.
Know you the man?
Mar. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast,

(1) Arrow to shoot at butts with. (2) Best.

wills

should none spare that come within his power. Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Mar. They say so most, that most his humours know.

Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they

grow.

Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd
youth,

Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd:
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report, to his great worthiness.

Was there with him: if I have heard a truth,
Ros. Another of these students at that time
Biron they call him: but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,

I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor,)
Deliver's in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

That every one her own hath garnished
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love;

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 at-
tendants.

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.

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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.
Where' now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn out house-keeping:
'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it:

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold;
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

[Gives a paper.
King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may."
Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away;
For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay.
Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant

once ?

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Ros. Not till it leaves 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!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

King. Madam, your father here doth intimate,
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
Being but the one half of an entire sum,
Disbursed by my father in his wars.
But say, that he, or we (as neither have,)
Receiv'd that sum; yet there remains unpaid

A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitain is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitain,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid

A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart2 withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain so gelded as it is.

Dear princess, were not his requests so far
From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it;
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin.

Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers

We arrest your word:

Of Charles his father.

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Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come,

Where that and other specialities are bound,
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell;
To-morrow shall we visit you again.

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 physic says, 1.3

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God save thy life!

Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

[Retiring.

Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is

that same?

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[Exit Long.

Biron. What's her name, in the cap? Boyet. Katharine, by good hap. Biron. Is she wedded, or no? Boyet. To her will, sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu! Boyet. Farewell to me, sír, and welcome to you. [Exit Biron.-Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.

Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to

board.

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The civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. If my observation (which very seldom
lies,)

By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not
Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?
Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.
Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire

To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed,
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair :

Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy:
Who, tendering their own worth, from where they
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes
Fll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd-
Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his
eye hath disclos'd:

I only have made a mouth of his eye,..
By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st
skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.

Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her

father is but grim.

Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?

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Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth. Concolinel

Arm. How means't thou? brawling in French? Moth. 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 eyelids; sigh 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 are most affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?
Moth. By my penny of observation.
Arm. But 0,-but 0,-

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?

I

Arm. Almost I had.

Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.

Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. 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 sympathised; a horse to be ambassador 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? Moth. Minimé, honest master; or rather, master, no.

Arm. I say, lead is slow.

Moth.

You are too swift, sir, to say so; Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun? Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!

He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's

he:

I shoot thee at the swain. Moth

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Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free

of grace!

[Singing. By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face; Arm. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him My herald is return'd. festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter

to my love.

Re-enter Moth and Costard.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard French brawl ?"

broken in a shin.

(T) A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands. (4) Canary was the name of a sprightly dance. 2) Hastily

(3) A Kind of dances

(5) Quick, ready.

(6) Ahead

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,-thy rance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing P'envoy;-begin. but this: Bear this significant to the country-maid Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; [Giving him in the mail, sir: Ó, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, re[Exit. no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain ! warding my dependents. Moth, follow. Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, adieu. silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: 8, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for Penvoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve?

Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not Penvoy a salve?

Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain

Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been

sain.

I will example it:

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.

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.

Moth. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; Would you desire more?

Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat:

Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.

To sell a bargain well, is as cunning as fast and loose:

Let me see a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin?

Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.

Then call'd you for the l'envoy.

Cost. True, and I for a plantain; Thus came 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,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

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?

Cost. Marry, sir, half-penny farthing.

Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of silk.
Cost. I thank your worship: God be with you!
Biron. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Cost. When would you have it done, sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is.

Cost. Ishall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow
morning.

Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, 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 white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
[Gives him money.

Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than
remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better: Most
sweet guerdon!-I will do it, sir, in print.^-Guer-
don-remuneration.
[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 so magnificent! This whimpled,' whining, purblind, wayward boy; This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces, Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at Sole imperator, and great general liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert im- Of trotting paritors,-O my little heart!-mured, restrained, captivated, bound. And I to be a corporal of his field,

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Cost. Till there be no more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
Cost. O, marry me to one Frances :-I smell
some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Cost. True, true; and now you will be my pur-And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop! What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife! gation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from du- A woman, that is like a German clock,

(1) An old French term for concluding verses, which served either to convey the moral, or to address the poem to some person.

(2) Delightful.

(3) Reward.

(4) With the utmost exactness.

(5) Hooded, veiled.

(6) Petticoats.

(7) The officers of the spiritual courts who serve citations.

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