A yielding, 'gainst some reason, in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.

Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,

In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
King. I do protest, I never heard of it,
And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. 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,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.

Mean time, 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 received,
As you shall deem yourself lodged 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, 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?
Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.
Long. I beseech you a word; What is she in the white?
Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name.
Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a
shame.

[Exit.

* Aye, yes.

+ Point, an emphatic French negation.

Long. Pray you, Sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God'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.

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!

[Exit LONGAVILLE.

Boyet. Farewell to me, Sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit BIRON.-Ladies unmask. Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord; Not a word with him but a jest.

Boyet. And every jest but a word.

Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.
Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to board.
Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry!

Boyet. And wherefore not ships?

No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.

Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar. Not so, gentle beast;

[Offering to kiss her.

My lips are no common, though several* they be.

Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree:
The civil war of wits were much better used

On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
Boyet. 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?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected.
Prin. Your reason?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
To the court of his eye, peeping thorought desire:
His heart, like an agate with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed:
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:

Methought, all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;

Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were glass ù,
Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.

*Severals, pieces of land adjoining a common, allotted for a time to particular cultivators.

† Through.

His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll 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 disposed-*

Boyet. But to speak that in words, which his eye hath disclosed.

I only have made a mouth of his eye,

By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.

Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speak'st skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.

Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Moth. Concolinel- 一十

[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.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?§ Arm. How mean'st 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 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 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. By my penny of observation.

*Wantonly merry.

+ Probably the commencement of a song, which, as being well known at the time, it was not thought necessary to print. A dance, like the cotillon.

+ Hastily.
Canary, a Spanish dance. like the bolero.

Accomplishments.

Arm. But 0,-but 0,

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?

Moth. Miminè,* honest master; or rather, master, no.

Arm. I say, lead is slow.

Moth. You are too swift, Sir, to say so:

Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?

Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!

He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:-
I shoot thee at the swain.

Moth. Thump then, and I flee.

Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace! By thy favour, sweet welkin,+ I must sigh in thy face: Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.

My herald is return'd.

Re-enter MOTH and COSTARD.

[Exit.

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 ?

*Minimè, (Latin) by no means.

+ Sky.

A head.

The concluding stanza of a poem; used to indicate its moral, or in dedication of the work. Bag.

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,
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:

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.
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. By my 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 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 dependants. Moth, follow.

[Exit.