Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning swain,) I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and with the manner.1 heart-burning heat of duty DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.

;

Dull. Me, an't shall please you; I am Antony Dull.

King. For Jaquenetta (so is the weaker vessel called, which I apprehended with the aforesaid (2) A young man. (1) In the fact.

Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?

Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.

Moth. No, no; O lord, sir, no.

Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal ?2

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?
Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master?
Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth, I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Arm. What? that an cel is ingenious?

Muth. That an eel a quick.

Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: Thou neatest 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.
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 bal lad 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 digression3 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 say, sing.

Moth. Forbear till this company be past.

Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and, Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta. as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep with a base wench. If drawing my sword against Costard safe; and you must let him take no delight, the humour of affection would deliver me from the nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a-week: reprobate thought of it, I would take desire pri- For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she soner, and ransom him to any French courtier for is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. 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) Or which she is naturally possessed.

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 thec.
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,

x (3) Transgression. (4) Dairy-woman. (5) Love,

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.

ACT II.

[Exit.

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, SCENE I-Another part of the same. A pavi-I saw him at the duke Alençon's once; And shape to win grace though he had no wit. lion and tents at a distance. Enter the Princess And much too little of that good I saw, of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Is my report, to his great worthiness. 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,

Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: if I have heard a truth,
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 cars play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
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. 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

[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.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl ?3

A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands. (2) Hastily, (3) A kind of dance.