Arm. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. .Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no, sir, no. Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal ? + Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal ? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or, I apt, and my saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little. Moth. Little pretty, because little: Wherefore apt? Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. Arm. What? that an eel is ingenious? Moth. That an eel is quick. white and red. Arm. I say sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past, Enter DULL, COSTARD, and Jaquenetta. Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: Thou For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she heatest my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses 5 love not him. [Aside. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. is allowed for the day-woman. 7 Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. — Maid. Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Arm. I know where it is situate. Jaq. How wise you are! Arm. I will tell thee wonders. Jaq. So I heard you say. [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENEtta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose. Moth. No, sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see — Moth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent 7 Dairy-woman. The name of a coin once current. 6 Of which she is naturally possessed. L 4 in their words; and, therefore, I will say nothing: | Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will 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 baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love: And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Cupid's butt-shaft 9 is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the ACT II. SCENE I. - A Pavilion, and Tents at a distance. Consider who the king your father sends; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Tell him, the daughter of the king of France, [Exit. Prin. Know you the man? Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest? Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: Is my report, to his great worthiness. Ros. Another of these students at that time Prin. Heaven bless my ladies! are they all in love; Prin. Re-enter BOYET. Now, what admittance, lord? [The Ladies mask. Enter King, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair, I give you back again; and, welcome | I have not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; To ask the question! Biron. How needless was it then You must not be so quick. Ros. 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions. Where that and other specialties are bound; King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, All liberal reason I will yield unto. Mean time, receive such welcome at my hand, 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 Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill be glad to see it. tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Biron. What time o' day? Ros. The hour that fools shall ask. Biron. Now fair befall your mask! King. Madam, your father here doth intimate But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,) An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, To have his title live in Aquitain; Which we much rather had depart 3 withal, Than Aquitain divided as it is. Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, 3 Part. 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 physick says, I. + Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? [Retiring. Dum. Sir, I pray you, a word: What lady is that the light. Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard. Long. Heaven'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. [Exit LONG. 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! Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit BIRON. - Ladies unmask. 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 thorough 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 eye sight 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'd, Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. His face's own margent did quote such amazes, 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. ACT III. 8 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 eye-lids; 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 penthouselike, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin 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. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. By my penny of observation. but O, Arm. But O, 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. 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 have 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 embassador 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. Minimè, honest master; or rather, master By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face: Re-enter MoтH and COSTARD. Moth. A wonder, master; here's a costard broken in a shin. 9 A head. 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? Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve? Arm. No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, There's the moral: Now the l'envoy. Enter BIRON. Biron. O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met. Cost. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration? Biron. What is a remuneration? Moth. I will add the l'envoy: Say the moral again. Do one thing for me that I shall entreat. 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 Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin. 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. When would you have it done, sir? Cost. Well, I will do it, sir: Fare you well. Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, The princess comes to hunt here in the park, A very beadle to a humourous sigh; Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy; speak that l'envoy: I, Costard, running out, that was safely within, Arm. We will talk no more of this matter. Arm. I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound. Cost. True, true; and now you will 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 dependents. Moth, follow. [Exit. 1 An old French term for concluding verses, which served either to convey the moral, or to address the poem to some person. This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; |