Imatges de pÓgina

in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampfon'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 fea-water green, fir.

ARM. Is that one of the four complexions?

MOTH. As I have read, fir; and the best of them too. ARM. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Sampfon had small reason for it. He, furely, affected her for her wit.

MOTH. It was fo, fir; for fhe had a green wit.

ARM. My love is most immaculate white and red. Morн. Moft maculate thoughts, mafter, are mask'd under fuch colours.

ARM. Define, define, well-educated infant.

MOTH. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, affift me!

ARM. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!

MOTH. If fhe 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 the fear, or be to blame,
By this you fhall not know;

For still her cheeks poffefs the fame,

Which native fhe doth owe.

A dangerous rhime, master, against the reafon of white

and red.

ARM. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

Morн. The world was very guilty of fuch a ballad fome three ages fince: but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither ferve for the writing, nor the tune.

ARM. I will have the fubject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digreffion by fome mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Coftard; the deferves well.

MOTH. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my master.


ARM. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. MOTH. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. ARM. I fay, fing.

MOTH. Forbear till this company be past.


DULL. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Coftard safe and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' muft faft three days a-week: For this damfel, I muft keep her at the park; fhe is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.

ARM. I do betray myself with blufhing.-Maid.
J42. Man.

ARM. I will visit thee at the lodge.

F42. That's hereby.

ARM. I know where it is fituate.

J42. Lord, how wife you are!

ARM. I will tell thee wonders.
F42. With that face?

ARM. I love thee.

F42. So I heard you say.

ARM. And fo farewell.

J42. Fair weather after you!

DULL. Come, Jaquenetta, away.

[Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. ARM. Villain, thou shalt faft for thy offences, ere thou

be pardoned.

Cost. Well, fir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full ftomach.

ARM. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

COST. I am more bound to you, than they are but lightly rewarded.

your fellows, for

ARM. Take away this villain; fhut him up.
MOTH. Come, you tranfgreffing flave; away.

Cost. Let me not be pent up, fir; I will faft, being loofe.

MOTH. No, fir; that were faft and loose: thou fhalt to prifon.

COST. Well, if ever I do fee the merry days of defolation that I have seen, some shall see

MOTH. What fhall fome fee?

COST. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prifoners to be too filent in their words; and, therefore, I will fay 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 affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is bafer, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I fhall be forfworn, (which is a great argument of falfhood,) if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falfely attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet Sampfon was fo tempted; and he had an excellent ftrength: yet was Solomon fo feduced; and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-fhaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's VOL. II.


rapier. The first and fecond cause will not ferve my turn; the paffado he refpects not, the duello he regards not his disgrace is to be called boy; but his glory is, to fubdue men. Adieu, valour! ruft, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Affift me some extemporal god of rhime, for, I am sure, I fhall turn fonneteer. Devife wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.


SCENE I. Another part of the fame. A Pavilion and Tents at a difiance.

Enter the Princess of FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, LORDS, and other Attendants.

Bor. Now, madam, fummon up your dearest spirits : Confider who the king your father fends;

To whom he fends; and what's his embaffy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem;
To parley with the fole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no lefs 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 ftarve the general world befide,

And prodigally gave them all to you.

PRIN. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,

Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;

Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utter'd by base fale of chapmen's tongues :
I am lefs proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wife

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 noife abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study fhall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his filent court:
Therefore to us feemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,

To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we fingle you
As our best-moving fair folicitor :

Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick defpatch,
Impórtunes perfonal conference with his grace.
Hafte, fignify fo much; while we attend,
Like humble-vifag'd fuitors, his high will.·
Bor. Proud of employment, willingly I go.


PRIN. All pride is willing pride, and yours is fo.

Who are the votaries, my loving lords,

That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?

1. 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 folémnized,

In Normandy faw I this Longaville :

A man of fovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well.
The only foil of his fair virtue's gloss,
(If virtue's glofs will stain with any foil,)
Is a fharp wit match'd with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whofe will still wills

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