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Moth. I will tell you sensibly.

Cost. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth.
I will speak that l'envoy.
Costard running out, that was fafely within,
Fell over the threshold and broke my

shin.
Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Coft. 'Till there be more matter in the shin.
Arm. Sirrah, Costard, I will infranchise thee.

Coft. O, marry me to one Francis; I smell fome
S'envoy, some goose in this.

Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty; enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immurd, restrained, captivated, bound.

Coft. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance, and, in lieu thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this; bear this fignificant to the country-maid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine ho-, nours is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow.-

[Exit. Moth. Like the sequele, I. Signior Coftard, adieu.

[Exit. Cost. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my in-cony jewel! Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration ! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three farthings remuneration : What's the price of this incle ? a penny. No, I'll give you a remuneration : why, it carries it. Remuneration ! -why, it is a fairer name than a French crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word.

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S CE N E

III.

L

Enter Biron.

iron. O My.good knave Costard, exceedingly well

Cost

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Cof. Pray you, Sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration ?

Biron. What is a remuneration?
Coft. Marry, Sir, half-penny farthing.
Biron. O, why then three farthings worth of Glk.
Coft. I thank your worship, God be with

you.
Biron. O stay, llave, I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, my good knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall'intreat,

Cost. When would you have it done, Sir ?
Biron. O, this afternoon.
Coft. Well, I will do it, Sir: fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knowest not what it is..
Cost. I shall know, Sir, when I have done it.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Cost. I will come to your worship to-morrow morn-

ing:
Biron. It must be done this afternoon.
Hark, flave, it is but this:
The Princess comes to hunt here in the park:
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her

name, And Rosaline they call her; ask for her, And to her sweet hand see thou do commend This seal’d-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.

Cost. Guerdon,- sweet guerdon! better than remuneration, eleven-pence 'farthing better : most sweet guerdon! I will do it, Sir, in print. Guerdon, remuneration.

[Exit. Biron. O! and I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip; A very beadle to a humorous figh: A critic; nay, a night-watch constable; A doinineering pedant o'er the boy, Than whom no mortal more magnificent. This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,

This * Signior Junio's giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid,
Regent of love-rhimes, lord of folded arms,
Thanointed Sovereign of fighs and groans :
Leige of all loyterers and malecontents:
Dread Prince of plackets, King of codpieces:
Sole Imperator, and great General
Of trotting parators: (O my little heart !)
And I to be a corporal of his File,
And wear his colours ! like a tumbler, stoop!
What? I love! I fue! I seek a wife!
A Woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a repairing ; ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd, that it may itill go right!
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all :
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes ;
Ay, and by heav'n, one that will do the deed,
Tho' Argus were her eunuch and her guard;
And I to figh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! go to :-It is a plague,
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty, dreadful, little, Might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit.

A C T IV.

SCENE I.

A Pavilion in the Park near the Palace. Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Maria, Catharine, Lords,

Attendants, and a Forester.

PRINCESS.
AS that the King that spurrd his horse so hard

Against the steep uprising of the hill? * Signior Junio's] By this is meant Youth in general.

Boyet.

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Boyet. I know not; but, I think, it was not he.
Prin. Who e'er he was, he fhew'd a mounting

mind.
Well, lords, to day we shall have our dispatch;
On Saturday we will return to France,
Then Forester, my friend, where is the bush,
That we must stand and play the murtherer in ?

For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice; A stand, where you may make the faireft shoot.

Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair, that shoot : And thereupon thou speak'st the fairelt shoot.

For. Pardon me, madam: for I meant not so.
Prin. What, what? first praise me, then again fay,

no?

you inherit.

O short-liv'd pride! not fair? alack, for woe !

For. Yes, inadam, fair.

Prin. Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.

For. Nothing but fair is that, which

Prin. See, see, my beauty will be fav'd by merit. O heresy in fair, fit for these days ! A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. But come, the bow; now mercy goes to kill, And shooting well is then accounted ill, Thus will I save my credit in the shoot, Not wounding, Pity would not let me do't : If wounding, then it was to fhew my Skill; That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill. And, out of question, so it is sometimes; Glory grows guilty of detested crimes ; When for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, We bend to that the working of the heart. As I for praise alone now seek to spill The poor deer's blood, that my

heart means no ill. Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty

Only

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Only for praise-sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise; and praise we may afford
To any lady, that fubdues her lord.

Enter Costard.
Boyet. Here comes a member of the common-

wealth.
Cof. God dig-you-den all; pray you, which is the
head lady?

Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads."

Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Prin. The thickest and the tallest.
Coft. The thickest and the tallest ? it is fo, truth is

truth.
* An' my waste, mistress, were as slender as your wit,
One o' these maids girdles for my waste should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman ? you are the thickest

here, Prin. What's your will, Sir ? what's your will? Cost. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one

lady Rosaline.
Prin. O'thy letter, thy letter: he's a good friend

of mine.
Stand afide, good bearer.-Boyet, you can carve;
Break up this capon.

Boyet. I am bound to serve.
This letter is miftook, it importeth none here;
It is writto Jaquenetta.

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as my wit,

* An' your waste, mistress, were as slender

One o' these maids girdles for your waste should be fit.] And was not one of her Maid's Girdles fit for her? It is plain that my and your have all the Way changed Places, by some Accident or other; and that the Lines fhould be read thus,

An' my waste, mistress, was as slender as your wit,
One of these maids girdles for my waste should be fit.

Prin.

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