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Marg, And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt
a woman; and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice; I give
thee the bucklers.
[own.
Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of our
Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in
the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous wea-
pons for maids.

Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think,
hath legs.
[Exit Margaret.

Bene. And therefore will come.

The god of love,

That sits above,

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deserve,

[Singing.

Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Inside of a Church.
Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants, with
music and tapers.

Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
Atten. It is, my lord.
Claud. [Reads from a scroll.]

I mean, in singing; but in loving.-Leander the
good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of pan-
ders, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-Now,
mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even
road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly
turned over and over as my poor self, in love: Marry,
I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried; I can find
out no rhyme to lady' but baby,' an innocent
rhyme; for 'scorn,' horn, 'a hard rhyme: for 'school,'
'fool,' a babbling rhyme; very ominous endings:
No, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I
cannot woo in festival terms.

Enter Beatrice.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called
thee?

Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
Bene. O, stay but till then 1

Beat. Then, is spoken; fare you well now:-and
yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which
is, with knowing what hath passed between you and
Claudio.
[thee.
Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss
Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is
but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; there-
fore I will depart unkissed.

'Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies:
So the life that died with shame
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb.
music sound, and sing your solemn hymn.

SONG.

'Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, assist our moan;
Help us to sigh and groan,
Heavily, heavily:

Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,
Heavenly, heavenly.'

Claud. Now unto thy bones good night!
Yearly will I do this rite.

D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters; put your torches

Out:

The wolves have prey'd: and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray: Thanks to you all, and leave us; fare you well. Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his several [weeds;

way.

D. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other
And then to Leonato's we will go.
Claud. And, Hymen, now with luckier issue speeds
Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe!

[her,

Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so forcible is thy wit: But, I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which [Exeunt. of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me? SCENE IV.-A Room in Leonato's House. Beat. For them all together; which maintained so Enter Leonato, Antonio, Benedick, Beatrice, politic a state of evil, that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me? Bene. Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will. Beat. In spite of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates. Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. Beat. It appears not in this confession; there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the time of good neighbours: if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bells ring, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you? Bene. Question?-Why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most expedient for the wise, (if Don Worm, his conscience, find no impediment to the contrary,) to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself: So much for praising myself, (who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy,) and now tell me, How doth your cousin? Beat. Very ill.

Bene. And how do you?

Beat. Very ill too.
Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend: there will I
leave you too, for here comes oue in haste.
Enter Ursula.

Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle; yonder 's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falsely accused; the prince and Claudio mightily abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone: will you come presently? Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?

Ursula, Friar, and Hero.
Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd
Upon the error that you heard debated:
But Margaret was in some fault for this;
Although against her will, as it appears
In the true course of all the question.
Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves;
And, when I send for you, come hither mask'd;
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To visit me :-You know your office, brother;
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
And give her to young Claudio. [Exeunt Ladies.
Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, signior?

Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of them
Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. [true.
Leon. That eye my daughter lent her: T is most
Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon. The sight whereof, i think, you had from me,
From Claudio, and the prince But what 's your will?
Bene. Your answer, sír, is enigmatical:
But, for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
In the estate of honourable marriage;
In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Friar.
And my help.
[Here comes the prince, and Claudio.]

Enter Don Pedro and Claudio with Attendants. D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly. Leon. Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio; We here attend you. Are you yet determin'd To-day to marry with my brother's daughter? Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope. Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar ready. [Exit Antonio. D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's That you have such a February face, [the matter, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness? Claud. I think he thinks upon the savage bull:Tush, fear not, man, we 'll tip thy horns with gold, And all Europa shall rejoice at thee;

As once Europa did at lusty Jove,

When he would play the noble beast in love.
Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;
And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow,
And got a calf in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.

your face.

Re-enter Antonio, with the Ladies masked. Claud. For this I owe you: here come other Which is the lady I must seize upon? [reckonings. Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then she 's mine: Sweet, let me see [hand Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her her. Before this friar, and swear to marry Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar; I am your husband, if you like of me. Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife: [Unmasking. And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero?

Hero.

[liv'd.

Nothing certainer;
One Hero died [defil'd ;] but I do live,
And, surely as I live, I am a maid.
D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead!
Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander
Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,"
I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
Meantime, let wonder seem familiar,
And to the chapel let us presently.
Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice?
Beat. I answer to that name; [Unmasking] what
Bene. Do not you love me?
[is your will?
Beat.
Why no, no more than reason.
Bene. Why then your uncle, and the prince, and
Claudio,

Have been deceived; for they swore you did.
Beat. Do not you love me!
Bene.

Troth no, no more than reason. Beat. Why then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula, Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.

Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me. Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me. [me? Bene. 'T is no such matter:-Then you do not love Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

Claud. And I'll be sworn upon 't, that he loves For here 's a paper, written in his hand, [her; A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, Fashion'd to Beatrice. Hero. And here's another, Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket, Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle; here's our own hands against our hearts!-Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you;-but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and, partly, to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption.

Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth. [Kissing her. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedick the married man?

Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humour: Dost thou think I care for a satire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him: In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any pur pose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclu sion.-For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin.

Claud. I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends :-let's have a dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards.

Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play music.Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Messina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow; I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.--Strike up, pipers. [Dance. Exeunt.

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Our court shall be a little Academe,
Still and contemplative in living art.
You three, Biron, Dunain, and Longaville,
Have sworn for three years' term to live with me,
My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes,
That are recorded in this schedule here:
Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your names;
That his own hand may strike his honour down,
That violates the smallest branch herein:
If you are arned to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oath, and keep it too.
Long. I am resolv'd: 't is but a three years' fast:
The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits.

Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified.
The grosser manner of these world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves:
To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die;
With all these living in philosophy.

Biron. I can but say their protestation over, So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, That is, To live and study here three years. But there are other strict observances: As, not to see a woman in that term; Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there: And, one day in a week to touch no food, And but one meal on every day beside; The which, I hope, is not enrolled there : And then to sleep but three hours in the night, And not be seen to wink of all the day; (When I was wont to think no harm all night, And make a dark night too of half the day ;) Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there : O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep; Not to see ladies,-study,-fast,--not sleep. King. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. Biron. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please; I only swore, to study with your grace, And stay here in your court for three years' space. Long. You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest. Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? let me know.

King. Why, that to know, which else we should

not know.

Biron. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from

common sense?

King. Ay, that is study's godlike recompense.
Biron. Come on then, I will swear to study so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus,-To study where I well may dine,
When I to feast expressly am forbid;
Or, study where to meet some mistress fine,
When mistresses from common sense are hid:
Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If study's gain be thus, and this be so,
Study knows that, which yet it doth not know:
Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say, no.
King. These be the stops that hinder study quite,
And. train our intellects to vain delight. [vain,
Biron. Why, all delights are vain; and that most
Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain:
As, painfully to pore upon a book,

To seek the light of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look:

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile :
So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
Study me how to please the eye indeed,

By fixing it upon a fairer eye;
Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed,
And give him light that it was blinded by.
Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,

That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights,
That give a name to every fixed star,
Have no more profit of their shining nights,
Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Too much to know is, to know nought but fame;
And every godfather can give a name. [ing!
King. How well he 's read, to reason against read-
Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding!]

weeding.

Long. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the
[a breeding.
Biron. The spring is near, when green geese are
Dum. How follows that?
Biron.

Dum. In reason nothing. Biron.

Fit in his place and time.

Something then in rhyme.
King. Biron is like an envious sneaping frost,
That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
Biron. Well say I am; why should proud summer
boast,

Before the birds have any cause to sing?
Why should I join in an abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,

Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing that in season grows.

So you, to study now it is too late,

Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate.

King. Well, sit you out; go home, Biron; adieu! Biron. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you:

And, though I have for barbarism spoke more,
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet, confident I 'ill keep what I have swore,

And bide the penance of each three years' day,
Give me the paper, let me read the same;
And to the strictest decrees I'll write my name.
King. How well this yielding rescues thee from
shame!

Biron. [Reads.]

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Long. To fright them hence with that dread Biron. A dangerous law against gentility. [Reads.]

Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman

within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court shall possibly devise.

This article, my liege, yourself must break;
For, well you know, here comes in embassy
The French king's daughter, with yourself to
speak,-

A maid of grace, and complete majesty,-
About surrender-up of Aquitain

To her decrepit, sick, and bed-rid father : Therefore this article is made in vain,

[forgot.

Or vainly comes the admired princess hither.
King. What say you, lords? why, this was quite
Biron. So study evermore is overshot.
While it doth study to have what it would,
It doth forget to do the thing it should:
And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
'T is won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost.
King. We must, of force, dispense with this decree;
She must lie here on mere necessity.

Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn
Three thousand times within this three years
For every man with his affects is born; [pace :
Not by might master'd, but by special grace.
If I break faith, this word shall speak for me,
I am forsworn on mere necessity.-

So to the laws at large I write my name:

[Subscribes.
And he that breaks them in the least degree,
Stands in attainder of eternal shame :
Suggestions are to others, as to me:
But, I believe, although I seem so loth;
I am the last that will last keep his oath.
But is there no quick recreation granted?
King. Ay, that there is; our court, you know, is
With a refined traveller of Spain; [haunted

A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain :
One whom the music of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish, like enchanting harmony;

A man of complements, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny:
This child of fancy, that Armado hight

For interim to our studies, shall relate,
In high-born words, the worth of many a knight
From tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate.
How you delight, my lords, I know not, I;
But, I protest, I love to hear him lie,
And I will use him for my minstrelsy.
Biron. Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight.
Long. Costard, the swain, and he, shall be our sport;
And, so to study, three years is but short.

Enter Dull, with a letter, and Costard.
Dull. Which is the duke's own person?
Biron. This, fellow; What would'st?
Dull. 1 myself reprehend his own person, for I am
his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own
person in flesh and blood. Biron. This is he.
Dull. Signior Arme Arme commends you.
There's villainy abroad; this letter will tell you more.
Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me.
King. A letter from the magnificent Armado.
Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God
for high words.

Long. A high hope for a low heaven: God grant
us patience!

Biron. To hear? or forbear hearing?
Long. To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moder-
ately; or to forbear both.

Biron. Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us

cause to climb in the merriness.

Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner.

Biron. In what manner?

Cost. In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is in manner and form following. Now, sir, for the manner, -it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the forin,-in some form.

Biron. For the following, sir?

Cost. As it shall follow in my correction; And God
defend the right!

King. Will you hear this letter with attention?
Biron. As we would hear an oracle.

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[Dull.

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

"For Jaquenetta, (so is the weaker vessel called,
which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,)I keep
her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least
of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in
of duty,-DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO."
all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat

Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard.

King. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah,
Cost. Sir, I confess the wench.
what say you to this?
King. Did you hear the proclamation?

of the marking of it.
Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little

King. It was proclaimed 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, sir; she was a

Cest. Such is the simplicity of man to hearkening. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed

after the flesh.

King. [Reads.]

"Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and sole
dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's God, and
body's fostering patron,-

Cost. Not a word of Costard yet.
King.

"So it is,

(virgin. Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid.

King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir.
Cost. This maid will serve my turn, sir.
King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence; You
shall fast a week with bran and water. [porridge.
Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and
King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.-
My lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er.-

Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in And go we, lords, to put in practice, that
telling true, but so.

King. Peace!

Cost.-be to me, and every man that dares not
King. No words!

[fight!

Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.

[Exeunt King, Longaville, and Dumain. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and lords will prove an idle scorn.Sirrah, come on.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the same.
Armado's House.

Cost of other men's secrets, I beseech you. King. Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir: for true it is, I was "So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the girl; and therefore, Welcome the sour cup of prosmost wholesome physic of thy health-giving air: perity! Affliction may one day smile again, and and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk, until then, Sit down, Sorrow! The time when? About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper. So much for the time when : Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon; it is ycleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest: But to the place where, it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,

I

Enter Armado and Moth. 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 melan-
choly, my tender juvenal?
Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working,
my tough senior.

H

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. 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.
dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of
white and red.
[the Beggar?

Moth. How mean you, sir; I pretty, and my say-A
ing 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 eel is ingenious?

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
Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. [the duke.
Arm. Impossible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told? [tapster.
Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fits the spirit of a
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 call, three.

Arm. True.

Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now 't is 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 pre-
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 spirit grows 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. Fare you well.
Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid.
Faq. Man.

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Faq. That's hereby.

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study?r. I know where it is situate.
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
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,
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 re-
probate 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 outswear 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. Sampson, master; he was a man of good
carriage, great carriage; for he carried the town-
gates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love.
Arm. O well-knit Sampson! strong-jointed Samp-
son! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou
didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too,-Who
was Sampson'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, Sampson
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!

Arm. I love thee.

Faq. Lord, how wise you are!!
Arm. I will tell thee wonders.
Faq. With that face?
Faq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell.
Faq. Fair weather after you!
Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away. [Ex. 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. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose. [to prison. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt 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. [Ex. 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? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Sampson was so tempted; and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft 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 sonnet. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

Exit.

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