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siage; 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 Sampfon ! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didit me in carrying gates. I am in love too.

Who was Sampo fon'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 sea-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, Sampson had fmall reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her. wit.

Moth. It was so, Sir, for she had a green wit.
Arm. My love is most 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 tongue, afo. fift me! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child,

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 she fear, or be to blame,

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

Which native the doth owe. A dangerous rhime, 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

most pretty

three ages fince, 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 prefident. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Coffard'; the deserves well

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

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

Enter Costard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid. Dull. Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Coo fard safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; 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 my self with blushing: maid,
Faq. Man,
Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq. That's here by.
Arm. I know, where it is situate.
Faq. Lord, how wise

you

are ! Arm. I will tell thee wonders, Faq. With that face? Arm. I love thee. Faq. So I heard you say. Arm. And so farewel. Faq. Fair weather after you! Duil. Come, aquenetta, away. (6) [Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.

Arm.

(6) Maid. Fair Weather after you. Come, Jaquenetra, away.) Thus all the printed Copies: but the Editors have been guilty of much inadvertence. They make Jaquenstia, and a Maid

enter:

Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offence, ere thou be pardoned.

Cof. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full ftomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punish'd.

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

Arm. Take away this villain, shut him up.
Moth. Come, you transgressing flave, away.

Coft. Let me not be pent up, Sir; I will faft, being loose.

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

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

Moth. What shall fome see?
Coft. Nay, nothing, master Moth, but what they

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 another man, and therefore I can be quiet.

[Exeunt Moth and 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 fo tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's but-Taft 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

look upon.

enter: whereas Jaquenetia 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

must be spoken by Jaquenetta ; and then that Dull says to her, Come, Jaquenetta, away, as I have regulared

after you

the Text.

turns

turn; the Pasado he refpects not, the Duello he regards not; his disgrace is to be call'd boy ; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier ! be still, drum ! for your manager is in love ; yea, he loveth. Afist me, fome extemporal God of rhime, for, I fure, I shall turn sonnet. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.

[Exit.

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ACT

II.

SCENE, before the King of Navarre's

Palace.

Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Catha.

rine, Boyet, Lords and other attendants.

BOY ET.
OW, Madam, fummon up your deareft fpirits ;
Consider, whom the King your father sends ;

To whom he sends, and what's his embassy.
Your felf, held precious in the world's esteem,
To parley with the fole inheritor
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre ; the plea, of no less weight-
Than Aquitain, a dowry for a Queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As nature was in making graces dear,
When he did ftarve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise ;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base fale of chapmens' tongues.
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending thus your wit in praise of mine.
But now, to task the tasker ; good Boyet,

You

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You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
'Till painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his filent Court;
Therefore to us seems it a needful course,
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 sollicitor.
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
Importunes personal conference with his Grace.
Haste, signifie so much, while we attend,
Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

Boyet. Proud of imployment, willingly I go. [Exit.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is to ;
Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous King ?

Lord. Longaville is one.
Prin. Know you the man?

Mar. I knew him, Madam, at a marriage-feaft,
Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
of Jaques Faulconbridge folemnized.
In Normandy saw I this Longaville,
A man of sovereign parts he is eleemid;
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms,
Nothing becomes him il, that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,
(If virtue’s gloss will ftain with any foil,)
Is a sharp wit, match'd with too blunt a will ;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will fill wills
It should spare none, that come within his power.

Prin. Some merry-mocking lord, belike; is't fo?
Mar. They say so most," that most his humours

know.
Prin. Such fhort-liv'd wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest ?

Cath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplifh'd yoạth,
Of all that virtue love, for virtue lov’d.
Most power to do moft harm, leaft knowing ill;

For

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