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three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!

Moth. To prove you a cipher. [Aside. Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and my love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd 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.*

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 that 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 whipp'd; and yet a better love than my master. [Aside. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light

woman.

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 allow'd 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. 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.

[Exit DULL and JAQ.

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.

• Of which she is naturally possessed.
+ Dairy-woman.
‡ Love.

Arrow to shoot at butts with.

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 seeMotk. 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 have as little patience as another man; and, therefore, I can be quiet.

[Exeunt MoTH and CosT.

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? Cupid's buttshaft is too hard for Hercules' club, 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 turn sonneteer. Devise, wit! write, pen! for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.

Act Second.

SCENE I.--A Pavilion 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;

[mean,

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
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,
Importunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humbly-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?

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 Falconbridge, 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. [grow. Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they Who are the rest? [youth,

Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd 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, And shape to win grace though he had no wit. I saw him at the duke Alençon's once; And much too little of that good I saw, Is my report, to his great worthiness.

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) Delivers 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. Prin. Heaven bless my ladies! are they all in That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? Mar. Here comes Boyet.

Prin.

Re-enter BOYET.

[love,

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 the KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON,

and Attendants.

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Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Biron. I know you did.
[question!
Ros. How needless was it then to ask the
Biron. You must not be so quick.

Ros. 'Tis long of you that spur me with such
questions.
['twill tire.
Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast,
Ros. Not till it leave 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 th' 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
An 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 depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitain divided 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

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We arrest your word:

Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

King.

Satisfy me so.

Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not

come

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

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, | Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,

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, I.*

Biron. Will you prick 't with your eye?

Ros. No poynt,+ with my knife.

Biron. Now, Heaven 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?

Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.
[Exit.

Long. I beseech you, a word. What is she in
the white?
[the light.

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an' you saw her in
Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. Heaven's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.

Long. Nay, my choler is ended.

She is a most sweet lady.

As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
Who, tendering their own worth, from where

they were glass'd,

Did point out 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:-
"Ill 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 tongne which I know will not lie.
Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest
skilfully.
[news of him.
Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns
Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for
her father is but grim.
Boyet. Do you hear, my mad girls?

Mar.

Boyet.

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No.

What, then, do you see?

[Exeunt.

You are too hard for me.

Act Third.

SCENE I.-The Park, near the Palace.
Enter ARMADO and Mотн.

Arm. WARBLE, child; make passionate my
sense of hearing.
Moth. Concolinel-

[Singing

Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. [French brawl?? Moth. Master, will you win your love with a Arm. How meanest 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 [Exit LONG. snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat, penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; anc keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.

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, sir, and welcome to you.
[Exit BIRON.-Ladies unmask.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry madcap
lord;

Not a word with him but a jest.
Boyet.

And every jest but a word.

If my observation, (which very seldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

[affected.

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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 sympathiz'd; 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 a metal heavy, dull, and slow ?
Moth. Minimé, honest master: or rather,
Arm. I say lead is slow.
Moth.

[master, no.

You are too swift, sir, to say so: Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun? Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric! [he :He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's I shoot thee at the swain. Moth.

Thump, then, and I flee. [Exit Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace! [face:

By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. My herald is return'd.

Re-enter MOTH and COSTARD.

Moth. A wonder, master; here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Arm. Some enigma, some riddle: come, -thy l'envoy; +-begin.

Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir: O sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy; no salve, sir, but a plantain!

Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O, 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
I will example it:

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.

[sain.

[again.

There's the moral; Now the l'envoy.
Moth. I will add the l'envoy; say the moral
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:[fat.

Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be 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. * A head.

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

+ Reward.

With the utmost exactness.

Arm. Come hither, come hither: How did this argument begin? [a shin. Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in Then call'd you for the l'envoy. Cost. True, and I for a plantain: Thus came your argument in; [bought; Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you 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. Arm. We will talk no more of this matter. Cost. Till there be 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.

Arm. I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.

[loose.

Cost. True, true; and now you will let me Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: Bear this significant to the country maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration: [giving him money] for the best ward of mine honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.

[Exit.

Moth. Like the sequel, I.-Signior Costard, adieu. [Exit Мотн.

Cost. 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, halfpenny farthing.
[silk.
Biron. O, why then, three-farthings-worth of
Cost. I thank your worship: Heaven 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. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. 1 will come to your worship to-morrow

morning.

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Biron. O! And I, forsooth, in love! I, that As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill

have been love's whip;

A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;

A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
[boy;
This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid :
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop.
What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right?
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all :
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
And I to sigh for her,-to watch for her,
To pray for her? Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his most mighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and
groan;

Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.

Act Fourth.

SCENE I.-A Pavilion in the Park.

[Exit.

Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, Attendants, and a

Forester.

Prin. Was that the king, that spurr'd his horse Against the steep uprising of the hill! [so hard Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he. Prin. Who e'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind.

Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.-
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
That we must stand and play the murderer in?

For. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice, A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot. For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. Prin. What! what! first praise me, and

again say no?

O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
For. Yes, madam, fair.
Prin.

Nay, never paint me now; Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. Here, good my glass, take this for telling true; [Giving him money. Fair payment for foul words is more than due. For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. Prin. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.

O heresy, in fair, fit for these days! [praise.-
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair
But come, the bow:-Now Mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do 't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes;
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
[part,
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward
We bend to that the working of the heart:

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The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill. Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self

sovereignty

Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford To any lady that subdues a lord.

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Boyet.

I am bound to serve.

This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.
Prin.

We will read it, I swear: Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear. Boyet. [Reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the king; Why did he come? to see; Why did he see? to overcome: To whom came he? to the beggar; What saw he? the beggar; Who overcame he? the beggar; The conclusion is victory; On whose side? the king's: the captive is enrich'd; On whose side? the beggar's: The catastrophe is a nuptial; On whose side? the king's?-no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: Shall I enforce thy love? I could: Shall I entreat thy love? I will; What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; For tittles, titles; For thyself, me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thee.

Thine in the dearest design of industry, DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. "Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;

Submissive fall his princely feet before, And he from forage will incline to play: But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den." Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? [hear better? What vane? what weather-cock? did you ever Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style. [crewhile.+ Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it

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