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Ceft. Nat a word of Coftard yet:
King. So it is-

Coff. It may be so: but if he say it is fo, he is, in telling true, but so, fo.

King. Peace-
Cost. Be to me, and every man that daręs not fight!
King. No words
Cost. Of other men's secrets, I beseech you.

King. So it is, Besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black oppresling humour to the most wholesome phyfick of thy health-giving air ; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time, when? About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment wbich is call’d supper. So much for the time, when. Now for the ground, which; which, I mean, I walk'd upon : it is yclep'd, thy park. Then for the place, where ; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that drawelb from my snow-while pen the ebon-colourd ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or feeft. But to the place, where; It standeth northnorth-east and by east from the west corner of thy curiouse knotted garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minow of thy mirth,' (Cot. Me?) that unletter'd small-knowing foul, (Cost. Me?) that mallow vefJal, (Cost. Still Me?) which, as I remember, bight Coftard; (Cost. O me!) forted and conforted, contrary to tby established proclaimed ediĉi and continent canon, with, with-O with,--but with this, I passion to say wherewith:

Coft. With a wench.

King. With a child of our grandmother Eve, a female ; ¢, for thy more understanding, a woman. Him, t (as

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base minnow of my mirth,] A minnow is a little fish which can, not be intended here. We may read, the basi minion of tby mirtb,

JOHNSON. VOL. II.

my

Аа

my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) bave sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by oby sweet grace's officer, Antbony Dull: a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.

Dúll. Me, an't shall please you : I am Anthony Dull.

King. For Jaquenetta, (so is tbe weaker vessel calld which I apprehended with ihe aforesaid (wain) I keep ber as a vesel of thy law's fury; and Mall at the least of thy Sweet nolice bring her to trial. Tbine, in all compliments of devoted and beart-burning heat of duty,

Don Adriano de Armado. Biron. This is not so well as I look'd for, but the best that ever I heard.

King. Ay; the best for the worst. But, firrah, what say you to this ?

Coft. Sir, I confess the wench. King. Did you hear the proclamation ? Cosi. I do confefs much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.

King. It was proclaim'd a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench.

Cost. I was taken with none, sir, I was taken with a damosel.

King. Well, it was proclaimed damosel.

Cost. This was no damosel neither, fir, she was a virgin.

King. It is so varied too, for it was proclaim'd virgin.

Coff. If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.

King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir.
Colt. This maid will serve my turn, fir.

King. Sir, I will pronounce sentence ; you shall fast a week with bran and water.

Coft. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.

King. And Don Armado sall be your keeper,
My lord Biron, see him delivered o'er.
And go we, lords, to put in practice that,
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.

[Exeunt, Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat,

These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. Sirrah, come on.

Coff. I suffer for the truth, fir : for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore, welcome the sour cup of prosperity! affliction may one day smile again, and until then, siç thee down, sorrow !

[Exeunt.

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

Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look fad.

Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-fame thing, dear imp?

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

Arm. How can'st thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender Juvenal ?

Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signior.

Arm. Why, tough signior ? why, tough signior ?

* dear imp ] Imp was anciently a term of dignity. Lord Crom, well in his last letter to Henry VIII. prays for the imp his son. It is now used only in contempt or abhorrence ; perhaps in our au. thour's time it was ambiguous, in which stale iç suits well with this dialogue, JOHNSON. Piftol salates king Henry V. by the same title. STERVENS. Аа?

Mosle

apt !

Moth. Why, tender Juvenal ? why, tender Juvenal?

Arm. I spoke it, tender Juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy younger days, which we may nominate, tender.

Moth. And I tough fignior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough.

Arm. Pretty and apt.

Mob. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my faying apt?

or I apt, and my saying pretty ? Arm. Thou pretty, because little. Moth. Little ! pretty, because little : wherefore 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 eel is ingenious. Moth. That an eel is quick. Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers.

Thou heat'st my blood

Moth. I am answer'd, sir.
Arm. I love not to be cross'd.

Moth. He speaks the clean contrary, crosses love not him. 3

Arm. I have promis'd to study three years with the duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.
Arm. Impossible.
Motb. How many is one thrice told ?

Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.

3 crosses love not him.] By crosses he means money. So in As you like it, the Clown says to Celia, if I should bear you, I fould bear no cross. JOHNSON.

Arm. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Motb. 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 call three.
Arm. True.

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? now here's 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.
Moth. To prove you a cypher.

Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love : and as it is base for a soldier to love, so I am in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the hu, mour 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 devis'd court'sy. I think it scorn to sigh; methinks, I should

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- Moth. And how easy is it to put years to the word three, and ftudy three years in two words, the dancing-borse will tell you.] Banks's horse, which play'd many remarkable pranks. Sir Walter Raleigh (History of the World, first part, p. 178) says, “ If Banks “had lived in older times, he would have shamed all the inchan“ ters in the world : for whosoever was most famous among them, “ could never master, or instruct any beast as he did his horse." And fir Kenelm Digby (a Treatise of Bodies, chap. 38. page 393.) observes, “ That his horse would restore a glove to the due

owner, after the master had whispered the man's name in his “ ear ; would tell the just number of pence in any piece of silver “coin, newly shewed him by his mafter; and even obey present“ ly his command, in discharging himself of his excrements, “ whenfoever he had bade him.” Dr. GRAY.

Banks's borse is alluded to by many writers contemporary with Shakespeare ; among the rest, by B. Jonson, in Every Man out of his Humour. “ He keeps more ado with this monster, than ever Banks did with his horse." STEEVENS.

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