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Boyet. And wherefore not fhips?
No sheep, (sweet lamb) unless we feed on your lips.

Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; shall that finish the jest?
Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

Mar. Not fo, gentle beaft;
My lips are no common, though several they be.

Boyet. Belonging to whom?'
Mar. To my fortunes and me.

Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree.
This civil war of wits were much better us'd
On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abus d.

Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lyes) By the heart's still rhetorick, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?
Boyet. With that which we lovers intitle 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 agat with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed :
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not fee,
Did stumble with hafte in his eye-light to be:
All fenfes to that fenfe did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair ;
Methought, all his fenses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some Prince to buy;
Who tendring their own worth, from whence they were

glasst,
Did point out to buy them, along as you past.
His face's own margent did quote fuch amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes inchanted 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 dispos'do
Boret. But to speak that in words, which his eye liath

disclos'd;
I only have made a mouth of his

eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lye, Vol. II.

I

Rof

Rof, Thou art an old love-monger, and speakeft skilfully.
Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.
Ref. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father

is but grim.
Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches
Mar. No.
Boyet. What then, do

you

feed Ros, Ay, our way to be gone. # Boyet. You are too hard for me. (8) [Exeunt.

SCENE the Park; near the Palace.

Enter Armado and Moth.

WA

Arm. Arble, child; make pasfionate my fenfe of

hearing. Moth. Concolinelma

[Singing. Arm. Sweet Air ! go, tenderness of years ; take this key, give inlargement to the fwain; bring him festinately hither : I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Moth. Mafter, will you win your love with a Frencia brawl?

Arm. How mean'st thou, brawling in French?

(8) Boyet. You are too bard for me. ] Here, in all the Books, the second Ad is made to end :ibut in my Opinion very miftakenly, I have ventur'd to vary the Regulation of the four last Acts from the printed Copies, for these Reasons. Hitherto, the second Act has been of the Extent of seven Pages; the third but of five; and the fifth of no less than twenty-nine. And this Difproportion of Length has crouded too many incidents into some Acts, and left the others quite barren. I have now reduced them into a much better Equality; and distribuited the Business likewise, (luch as it is,) iuto a more vniform Cast.

Moth.

Moth. No, my compleat'mafter (9); but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humoar it with turning up your eyelids; figh a note and fing å note;, sometimes through the throat, as if you swallow'd love with finging love; fometimes through the nose, as if you snuft up love by smelling love ; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms croft on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbet 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 : these are compliments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without these, and make the men of note (10): do you, note men, that are most affected to these?

Arm. How haft thou purchas'd this experience ?
* Moth. By my pen of observation.

Arm. But O, but O.
Moth. The hobby-horse is forgot. (11)

Armi.

%99 Moth. No, my compleat Mafler, &c.] This whole Speech has been so terribly confused in the Pointing, through alf the Editisna hitherto; that not the least glimmering of Sense was to be pick'd out of it. As I have regulated the Passage, I think, Morb delivers both good Sense and good Humour, (10)

these betray nice Wenches, that would be betray'd witb.. out these, and make them Men of Note.] Thus all the Editors, with a Sagacity worthy of Wonder, But who will ever believe, that the odd Attitudes and Affectations of Lovers, by which they betray young Wenches, should have power to make those young Wenches Men of Note? This is a: Transformation, which, 1 dara ay, the Poet never thought of His Meaning is, that they not only inveigle the young Girls, but make the. Men taken pozice of toos who affect them, qe ti į 309, (11) Arm. But Os but. Oraingoan;

Moth. The Hobby-horse is forgot.) The Humour of this Reply of Moth's to Armado, who is tighing in Love, cannot be taken without a little Explanation; nor why there should be any room for making such a Reply. In the Rites formerly observ'd for the Celebration of Mey-day, besides those now us’d of hange

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Arm. Call't 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

Arm. Almost I had.
Moth. Negligent ftudent, learn her by heart.
Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy.
Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I

your love !

will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A man, if I live: And this by, in, and out of, upon the inftant: 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 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 message well sympathis'd; a horse to be embassador for an afs.

Arm. Ha, ha; what fay’it thou?

Moth. Marry, Sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very flow.gated: but I gó.

irig a Pole with Garlands, and dancing round it, a Boy was dreft up representing Maid Marian; another, like a Friar; and another rode on a Hobby-bors, with Bells jingling, and painted Streamers. After the Reformation took place, and Precisians inultiplied, these latter Rites were look'd upon to favour of Paganism; and then Maid Marian, the Friar, and the poor Hobby. borje were turn'd out of the Games. Some, who were not so wisely precise, but re. gretted the Disuse of the Hobby-borse, no doubt, satiriz'd this Sufpicion of Idola ry, and archly wrote the Epitaph above alluded

Now Morb, hearing Armado groan ridiculously, and cry out, But oh! but ob! -humorously pieces out his Exclamation with the Sequel of this Epitaph: which is putting his Mafter's LovePalion, and the Loss of the Hobby-borse, on a Footing.

Arm.

to.

Arn. The way is bot short; away.
Moth. As fwift as lead, Sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull and flow?

Moth. Minimè, honest malter; or rather, maler, ne.
Arm. I say, lead is flow.

Moh. You are too isvift, Sir, to say so.
Is that icad slow, Sir, which is fir'd from a gun ?

Arin. Swcet (mods of rhetorick!
He repures me a canson; and the bullet, that's he:
I foot thee at the swain.
Mtih. Thump the:), and } fly.

Arni. A molt acute fusils, voluble and free of grace ;
By thy favour, fweer veikin. I inult night in thy faces
Muit rude melancholy, valour gives ibee place
My herald is return'd.

Re-enter Moth and Collard.

a shin,

Moth. A wonder, master, here's a Coffard broken in Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy l'encor begin.

Cuft. No egma, ro riddle, no l'ently; no fulve in the male, Sir. O Sir, plantan, a plain plantan; po l'envor, no l'envoy, or falve, Sir, but plantan.

Arm. By virtue, thou enforceft laugbter; thy filly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O pardon me, myftars ! doth the inconsiderate-take salve for l'enwry, and the word l'envoy for a falve ? Moth. Doth the wise think them other? is not l'envoy

a falve Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse, to

make plain Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. I will example it. 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.

I 3

There's

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