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Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love; and as it is base for a soldier to love, so I am in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword 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 court'fy. 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. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
Moth. Sampson, master; 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 Sampson, strong-jointed Sampson ! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampson'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.
Arın. Tell me precisely of what complexion ?
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 so, Sir, for she had a green wit.
Moth. Most inaculate thoughts, Master, are mask'd under such colours.
Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.
Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, allilt me!
Arm. Sweet inyocation of a child, most pretty and
Her faults will ne'er be known ;
And fears by pale-white shown;
By this you shall not know;
Which native she doth owe.
Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
Moth. The world was guilty of such a ballad some threc ages since, but, I think, now 'tis not to be found; or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune.
Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digreffion by some mighty president. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deferves well
Moth. To be whipp'd ; and yet a better love than my
S CE N E IV.
Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid.
IR, the King's pleasure is, that you keep
Costard safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but he must fast three days a week. For this damfel, I must keep her at the park, she is allow'd for the day-woman Fare you well.
Arm. I do betray myself with blushing : maid, -
(Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou fhalt faft for thy offence, ere thou be pardoned.
Coft. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.
Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punishd.
Coft. I am more bound to you, than your followers; for they are but lightly rewarded.
Arm: Take away this villain, shut him up.
Coit. 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 defolation that I have seen, some shall fee
Moth. What shall some see?
Cost. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing; I thank God, I have as little patience as anotheț 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 baseft) doth tread. I shall bę forsworn,
which is a great argument of fallhood, if I love. And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted ? love is a familiar, love is a devil; there is no evil angel but love, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's but-shaft is too hard for Hercules's club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier; the first and second cause will not serve my turn; the Passado he respects not, the Duello he regards not; his difgrace is to be callid boy; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Aflift ine, some extemporal God of rhime, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonnetteer. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.
Before the King of Naverre's Palace.
Consider, whom the King your father sends;
Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but
Boyet Proud of employment, willingly I go. (Exit.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so;
Lord. Longaville is one.