Goft. if it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid. King. This maid will not ferve your turn, Sir. King. Sir, I will pronounce fentence; you fhall faft a week with bran and water. Geft. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado fhall be your keeper. My Lord Biron, fee him deliver'd o'er. And go we, Lords, to put in practice that, Which each to other hath fo ftrongly fworn. [Exeunt. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle fcorn. Sirrah, come on. Goft. I fuffer for the truth, Sir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the four cup of profperity: affiction may one day fmile again, and until then, fit thee down, forrow. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Changes to Armado's house. Enter Armado, and Moth. Arm. Boy, what fign is it, when a man of great fpirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great fign, Sir, that he will look fad. Arm. Why, fadness is one and the self-fame thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no; O Lord, Sir, no. Arm. How can'ft thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenile ? Moth. By a familiar demonftration of the working, my tough Signior. Arm. Why tough Signior? why tough Signior? Moth. Why tender juvenile? why tender juvenile ? Arm I fpoke it, tender juvenile, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. Moth. And I, tough Signior, as an appertinent ti tle to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty and apt. Moth. How mean you, Sir? I pretty, and my faying apt? or I apt, and my faying 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 praife. Moth. I will praise an eel with the fame praise. Moth. That an eel is quick. Arm. I do fay, thou art quick in anfwers. Thou heat'ft my blood. Moth. I am anfwer'd, Sir. Arm. I love not to be crofs'd. Moth. He fpeaks the clean contrary, croffes * love not him. Arm. I have promis'd to study three years with the King. Moth. You may do it in an hour, Sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapfter. Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamefter. Arm. I confefs both; they are both the varnish of a compleat man. Moth. Then, I am fure, you know how much the grofs-fum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Arm. True. Moth. Why, Sir, is this fuch a piece of study? Now here's three ftudied ere you'll thrice wink; and how eafy is it to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horfe will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure. Moth. To prove you a cypher. Arm. I will hereupon confefs, I am in love; and, as * Meaning money, it it is bafe for a foldier to love, fo I am in love with a bafe wench. If drawing my fword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take defire prisoner; and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devis'd curtfey I think it fcorn to figh; methinks I should out-fwear Cupid. Comfort me, boy; what great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, Master. Arm. Moft fweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and fweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Samfon, Mafter; 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 Samfon, ftrong-jointed Samfon! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samfon'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 precifely of what complexion? Arm. Is that one of the four complexions? Moth. As I have read, Sir, and the beft of them too. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had fmall reafon for it. He, furely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was fo, Sir, for fhe had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Moft maculate thoughts, Master, 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, moft pretty and pathetical! Moth. If the be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known; For blufhing cheeks by faults are bred, Thes Then if the fear, or be to blame, By this you fhall not know; For ftill her cheeks poffefs the fame, A dangerous rhime, mafter, against the reafon of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the king and the beggar? Moth." The world was guilty of such a ballad some "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 that fubject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digreffion by fome mighty prefident. Boy, I do love that country-girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Coftard; the deferves wellMoth. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my mafter deferves. [Afide. Arm. Sing, boy, my fpirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's greater marvel loving a light wench. Arm. I fay, fing. Moth. Forbear, till this company is pafs'd. Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta a maid. Dull. Sir, the King's pleafure is, that you keep Coftard fafe; and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but he muft faft three days a-week. For this damfel, I must keep her at the park, fhe is allow'd for the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid,- Arm. I will vifit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That's here by. Arm. I know where it is fituate. Jaq. Lord, how wife you are! Arm. I love thee. Jaq. So I heard you fay, Jag Faq. Fair weather after you ! [Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thoufhalt fast for thy offence, ere thou be pardoned. Coft. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I fhall do it on a full ftomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punish'd. for they are but lightly rewarded. than your followers; Arm. Take away this villain, fhut him up. Coft. Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will fast, being loofe. Moth. No, Sir, that were fast and loose; thou fhalt to prison. Coft. Well, if ever I do fee the merry days of defolation that I have feen, fome fhall fee Moth. What fhall fome fee? Coft. Nay, nothing, Mafter Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for priloners to be 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 Coltard. Arm. I do affect the very ground (which is bafe) where her fhoe (which is bafer) guided by her foot (which is bafeft) doth tread. I fhall be forfworn, which is a great argument of falfehood, 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 Samfon was fo tempted, and he had an excellent ftrength; yet was Solomon fo feduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's but-fhaft is too hard for Hercules's club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier; the first and fecond caufe will not ferve my turn; the Palado he refpe&ts not, the Duello he regards not; his difgrace is to be call'd boy; but his glory is to fubdue men. Adieu, valour ! rust, rapier! be ftill, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Affiit me, fome extemporal god of rhime, for I am fure I fhall turn fonneteer. Devife wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT |