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, 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. 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. If she be made of white and red, 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 Moth. Then, I am sure you know how much the|| I may example my digression3 by some mighty pregross 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. :| cedent. 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? Arm. A most fine figure! [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. too. Arm. I say, sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Arm. I know where it is situate Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! Arm. I love thee. Jaq. So I heard you say. [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. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samsoning 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. 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, beloose. 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, (5) Love. (3) Transgression. (4) Dairy-woman where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, || Between lord Pe: igort and the beauteous heir In Normandy saw I this Longaville: ACT II. [Exit. SCENE I-Another part of the same. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest? Consider who the king your father sends ; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Tell him, the daughter of the king of France, [Exit. (1) Arrow to shoot at butts with. (2) Best. It should none spare that come within his power. Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Ros. Another of these students at that time Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing| else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; [Gives a paper. once? 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! 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. A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, Which we much rather had depart? withal, Dear princess, were not his requests so far Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialities are bound, King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your 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,4 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? Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Boyet. his word. Of Charles his father. Boyet. And wherefore not ships? (1) Whereas. (2) Part. (3) Aye, yes. (4) A French particle of egation. Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle,affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. I only have made a mouth of his eye, Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her Arm. How means't thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary4 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 most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? 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? 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 I 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? ter, no. Moth. You are too swift,5 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: Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come,―thy l'envoy; begin. rance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing 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: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; money.] for the best ward of mine honour, is, reno l'envoy, no l'envoy, no salve, sir, but a plantain ! warding my dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit. Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs adieu. provokes me to ridiculous smiling: Ŏ, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word, l'envoy, for a salve? Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy 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, Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Cost. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, 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, Arm. We will talk no more of this matter. Arm. By ny sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound. Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose. Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from du (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. Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony? [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. Cost. When would you have it done, sir? Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well. Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this ; The princess comes to hunt here in the park, name, And Rosaline they call her: ask for her; Cost. Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than Biron. O! And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip; A very beadle to a humorous sigh; (4) With the utmost exactness. citations. |