Arm. Call'st thou my love hobby-horfe?

Moth. No, mafter; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney: but have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almoft I had.

Moth. Negligent ftudent, 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 out of, upon the inftant: 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 fwain, he muft carry me a letter.

Moth. A meffage well fympathiz'd; a horse to be embaffador for an afs.

Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'ft thou?

Moth. Marry, Sir, you must fend the afs upon the horfe, for he is very flow-gated: but I go. Arm. The way is but fhort; away.

Moth. As fwift as lead, Sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead of metal heavy, dull and flow?

Moth. Minimè, honeft master; or rather mafter, no.

of the games. Some who were not fo wifely precife, but regretted the difufe of the Hobby horfe, no doubt, fatiriz'd this fufpicion of idolatry, and archly wrote the epitaph above alluded to. Now Moth, hearing Armado groan ridiculously, and cry out, But oh! but oh! -humourously pieces out his exclamation with the fequel of this epitaph.

P 4

Mr. Theobald.

Arm

Arm. I fay, lead is flow.

Moth. You are too fwift, Sir, to say so.

Is that lead flow, Sir, which is fir'd from a gun?
Arm. Sweet fmoak of rhetorick!

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

Moth. Thump then, and I fly.

[Exit. Arm. A moft acute Juvenile, voluble and free of grace;

By thy favour, fweet welkin, I muft figh in thy face.
Moft rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd.

SCENE II.

Re-enter Moth and Coftard.

Moth. A wonder, master, here's a Coftard broken in a fhin.

Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy P'envoy begin.

Coft. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no falve in the male, Sir. O Sir, plantan, a plain plantan; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, or falve, Sir, but plantan.

Arm. By vertue, thou enforceft laughter; thy filly thought, my fpleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous fmiling: O pardon me, my ftars! doth the inconfiderate take falve for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a falve?

Moth. Doth the wife think them other? is not Penvoy a falve?

Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain.

Some obfcure precedence that hath tofore been fain.
I will example it. Now will I begin your moral, and
do you follow with
follow with my l'envoy.

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

There's

There's the moral, now the l'envoy.

Moth. I will add the l'envoy; fay the moral again. Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three.

Moth. Until the goofe came out of door, And stay'd the odds by adding four.

A good l'envoy, ending in the goofe; would fire more?

you de

Coft. The boy hath fold him a bargain; a goofe, that's flat;

Sir, your penny-worth is good, an' your goose be fat. To fell a bargain well is as cunning as faft and loofe. Let me fee a fat l'envoy; I, that's a fat goofe.

Arm. Come hither, come hither

How did this argument begin?

;

Moth. By faying, that a Coftard was broken in a fhin.

Then call'd you for a l'envoy.

Coft. True, and I for a plantan;

Thus came the argument in;

Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goofe that you bought, And he ended the market.

Arm. But tell me; how was there a Coftard broken in a fhin?

Moth. I will tell you fenfibly.

Coft. Thou haft no feeling of it, Moth.

I will speak that l'envoy.

Coftard running out, that was fafely within,
Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Coft. 'Till there be more matter in the fhin.
Arm. Sirrah, Coftard, I will infranchise thee.
Coft. O, marry me to one Francis; I fmell fome
l'envoy, fome goofe in this.

Arm. By my fweet foul, I mean, fetting thee at liberty; enfreedoming thy perfon; thou wert immur'd, reftrained, captivated, bound.

Coft.

Coft. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, fet thee from durance, and, in lieu thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this; bear this fignificant to the country-maid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration; for the beft ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow.

[Exit. Moth. 3 Like the fequele, I. Signior Coftard, adieu.

[Exit. Coft. My fweet ounce of man's flesh, my in-cony jewel! 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 incle? a penny. 5 No, I'll give you a

remuneration: why, it carries it. Remuneration! -why, it is a fairer name than a French crown. I will never buy and fell out of this word.

Biron. O my good knave Coftard, exceedingly well

met.

Coft. Pray you, Sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Biron. What is a remuneration ?

3 Like the fequel, I] Sequele, in french, fignifies a great man's train. The joke is that a fingle page was all his train.

4 my in-cony JEW!] Incony or kony in the north fignifies, fine, delicate as a kony thing, a fine thing. It is plain therefore, we fhould read, my in-cony JEWEL.

5 No, I'll give you a remuneration: Why? It carries its remuneration. Why? It is a fairer name than a French crown.] Thus this paffage has hitherto been writ, and pointed, without any regard to common fenfe, or meaning. The reform, that I have made, flight as it is, makes it both intelligible and huMr. Theobald.

mourous.

Coft.

Coft. Marry, Sir, half-penny farthing.

Biron. O, why then three farthings worth of filk.
Coft. I thank your worship, God be with you.
Biron. Oftay, flave, I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, my good knave,
Do one thing for me that I fhall intreat.
Coft. When would you have it done, Sir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Coft. Well, I will do it, Sir: fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knoweft not what it is.
Coft. I fhall know, Sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.

Coft. I will come to your worship to morrow morning.

Biron. It must be done this afternoon.

Hark, flave, it is but this:

The Princess comes to hunt here in the park:
And in her train there is a gentle lady;

When tongues fpeak fweetly, then they name her

name,

And Rofaline they call her; ask for her,

And to her fweet hand fee thou do commend This feal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go. Coft. Guerdon,O sweet guerdon! better than remuneration, eleven pence farthing better: moft fweet guerdon! I will do it, Sir, in print. Guerdon,

remuneration.

Biron. O! and I, forfooth, in love!

I, that have been love's whip;

A

very beadle to a humorous figh:

A critick; nay, a night-watch conftable;

A domineering pedant o'er the boy,

Than whom no mortal more magnificent.

[Exit.

This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
This Signior Junio's giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid,
Regent of love-rhimes, lord of folded arms,
4 Signior Junio's] By this is meant youth in general.

Th'