Imatges de pÓgina

She is a most sweet lady.

BOYET. Not unlike, fir; that may
BIRON. What's her name, in the
BOYET. Katharine, by good hap.
BIRON. Is fhe wedded, or no?


[Exit LONG.


BOYET. To her will, fir, or fo.

BIRON. You are welcome, fir; adieu!

BOYET. Farewell to me, fir, and welcome to you.

[Exit BIRON. Ladies unmask.

MAR. That laft is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord;

Not a word with him but a jest.

BOYET. And every jeft 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. Too hot sheeps, marry!

BOYET. And wherefore not ships?

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

MAR. You sheep, and I pafture; Shall that finish the jeft? BOYET. So you grant pasture for me.

MAR. Not fo, gentle beast;

[Offering to kifs ber.

My lips are no common, though feveral 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 ftill rhetorick, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

PRIN. With what?

BOYET. With that which we lovers intitle, affected. PRIN. Your reafon?

BOYET. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough defire : His heart, like an agate, with your print impreffed, Proud with his form, in his eye pride expreffed: His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, Did stumble with haste in his eye-fight to be; All fenfes to that fenfe did make their repair, To feel only looking on faireft of fair: Methought, all his fenfes were lock'd in his As jewels in crystal, for fome prince to buy; Who, tend'ring their own worth, from where they were



Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd,
His face's own margent did quote fuch amazes,
That all eyes
faw his eyes enchanted with gazes:

I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my fake but one loving kiss.
PRIN. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is difpos'd-
BOYET. But to speak that in words, which his


I only have made a mouth of his


By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.



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


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


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

BOYET. Do you hear, my mad wenches?


BOYET. What then, do you fee?
Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.

BOYET. You are too hard for me.



SCENE I. Another part of the fame.
Enter ARMADO and MOTH.

ARM. Warble, child; make paffionate my fense of


MOTH. Concolinel

[Singing. ARM. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the fwain, bring him festinately hither; I must employ him in a letter to my MOTH. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?


ARM. How mean'ft thou? brawling in French?


MOTH. No, my complete mafter: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; figh a note, and fing a note; fometime through the throat, as if you fwallowed love with finging love; fometime through the nose, as if fnuff'd up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the fhop of your eyes; with your arms cross'd on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a fpit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a fnip and away: Thefe are complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches—that would be betray'd without thefe; and make them men note, (do you note, men?) that moft are affected to thefe.


ARM. How haft thou purchased this experience?
MOTH. By my penny of observation.

ARM. But 0,-but 0,

MOTH. -the hobby-horse is forgot.

ARM. Call'st 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. Almoft I had.

Morн. 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 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 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 meffage well fympathifed; a horse to be embaffador for an ass!

ARM. Ha, ha! what fayeft thou?

MOTH. Marry, fir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very flow-gaited: But I go.

ARM. The way is but fhort; away.
MOTH. AS fwift as lead, fir.

ARM. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and flow?

MOTH. Minimè, honest master; or rather, master, no. ARM. I fay, lead is flow.

MOTн. You are too swift, fir, to say so:

Is that lead flow which is fir'd from a gun?
ARM. Sweet smoke of rhetorick!

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

MоTH. 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:
Moft rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd.

Re-enter MOTHR and CoSTARD.

MOTH. A wonder, master; here's a Coftard broken in

a fhin.

[begin. ARM. Some enigma, fome riddle: come,-thy l'envoy;COST. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no falve in the mail, fir: O fir, plantain, a plain plantain ; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, no falve, fir, but a plantain !

ARM. By virtue, thou enforceft laughter; thy filly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous fmiling: O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconfiderate take falve for l'envoy, and the word, l'enfor a falve?


MOTH. Do the wife think them other? is not l'envoy a falve?

ARM. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make

Some obfcure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
I will example it:

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,

Were ftill 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 goofe came out of door,

And stay'd the odds by adding four.

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