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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 ! 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.1 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 digression2 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 wench.

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.3 Fare 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?

(1) Of which she is naturally possessed.
(2) Transgression. (3) Dairy-woman.

H

you

VOL. II.

Arm. I love thee.
Jaq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell."
Jaq. Fair weather after you!
Dúll. 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 see

Moth. 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 affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: and how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted ? Love is a familiar ; love is a devil : there is no evil angel but love. Yet Samson was so tempted: and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft2 is too hard for Hercules' club,

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

and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello 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 tum sonneteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

[Exit.

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ACT II.
SCENE I.-Another part of the same.

vilion and tents at a distance. Enter the Prin-
cess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine,
Boyet, Lords, and other attendants.
Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearesti

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 Beyet, 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,

(1) Best.

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.

[Erit.
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, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridye solemnized, In Normandy saw I this Longaville : A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd ; Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms : Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, (If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,) Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will; Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still

wills It 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.

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