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Moth. How many is one thrice told?
Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapiter,
Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester.

Arm. I confefs both; they are both the varnish of a compleat man.

Motb. 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.
Moth. Which the base vulgar call, three.
Arm. True.

Moth. Why, Sir, is this fuch a piece of study ? now here's three ftudied ere you'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing-horse will tell you.

Arm. A moft fine figure.
Moth. To prove you a cypher.
Arm. I will hereupon confessi

, I am in love, and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I 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 Desire prisoner; and ranfom him to any French courtier for a new devis'd court'sy. I think it fcorns to figh; methinks, I should out-fwear Cupid. Comfort me, boy, what great men have been in love?

Motb: Hercules, master.

Arm. Moft fweet Hercules! more authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Motb. 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 didit 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. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion ?

Moth. Of the fea-water green, Sir.
Arm. Is that one of the four complexions ?
Moth. As I have read, Sir, and the best of them too.

Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers ;. but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samplon bad small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit.

Moth. It was fo, Sir, for the bad a green wit.
Arm. My love is moft immaculate white and red.

Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd under such colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.
Moth. My father's wit and my mother's tonguealist me!

Arm. Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne'er be known; For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale-white shown ; Then if the fear, or be to blame,

By this you shall not know; For still her cheeks poffefs the same,

Which native the doth owe. A dangerous thime, master, against the reason 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 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 digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country gir), that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well –

Moth. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my master.

Arm. Sing, boy; my spi it grows heavy in love.
Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.
Arm. I say, fing,
Moth, Forbear, 'till this company is paft.


Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid. Dull. Sir, the King's pleasure is that you keep Costard fafe, and you muit let him take no delight, nor no pe. nance; but he must fast three days a week. For this damsel, 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,
Jaq. Man,
Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jag. That's here by.
Arm. I know, where it is situate.
Jag. Lord, how wise


are !
Arm. I will tell thec wonders.
Jaq. With that face ?
Arm. I love thee,
Jaq. So I hear you say.
Arm. And so farewel.
Jaq. Fair weather after you!
Dull, Come, Jaquenetta, away. (7)

[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast 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 punith'd.

Coff. I am more bound to you, than your followers ; for they are but light'y rewarded.

Arm. Take away this villain, shut him up.
Moth. Come, you transgrefling slave, away.
Coft. Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, Sir, that were fast and loose; thou shalt to prison.

(7) Maid. Fair weatber after you. Come Jaquenetta, away.) Thus all the printed copies : but the editors have been guilty of much inadvertence. They make Jaquenetta, and a maid enter: whereas Yaquenetta is the only maid intended by the poet, and who is committed to the custody of Dull, to be convey'd by him to the lodge in the park. This being the case, it is evident to demonstration, that-Fair weather after you --must be spoken by Jaquenetta ; and then that Dull says to her, come Jaquenetta, away, as I have regulated the text.

Cofta be quiet.

Coft. Well, if ever I do fee the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see

Moth. What shall some see?

Coft. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for.prisoners to be filent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing ; I thank God, I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can

[Exeunt Moth with Coftard. 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 falfhood, if I love. And how can that be true love, which is falfly 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-haft 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 Pasado he respects not, the Duello he reE gards not; his disgrace is to be called boy; but his a glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour; ruft, rapier ;

be ftill, drum ; for your manager is in love ; yea, he loveth. Aflift, me, fome extemporal god of rhime, for I am sure, I shall turn sonneteer. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.


SCENE, before the King of Navarre's Palace.
Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Catha.

rine, Boyet, Lords and other Attendants.



Consider, whom the King your father ser.ds ; To whom he fends, and what's his embassy.


Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor
Of all períectins that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain, a dowry for a queen.
But now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When she did ftarve the general world beside, (8)
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted Aourish of your praise ;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wife,
In spending thus your wit in praise of mine.
But now to talk the taker ; good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
'Till painful ftudy shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his filent court;
Therefore to us feems it a needful courfe,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure : and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best moving fair folicitor.
Tell him, the daughrer of the King of France,
On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
Importunes personal conference with his Grace.
Hafte, signify so much, while we attend,
Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. (Exit

Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so ;
Who are the votaries, my loving Lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous King ?

Lord. Longaville is one.

(8) Wben she did ftarve the general world beside,] Catullus has a compliment, 'much of this cast, to his Lesbia in his 87th epigram:

quæ cum pulcherrima tota eft, Tum omnibus una omnes furripuit Veneres.

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