« PredošláPokračovať »
riage; 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 SampJon's love, my dear Moth ?
Moth. A woman, mafter.
Motb. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.
Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion >
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.
Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask' 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, 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 she fear, or be to blame,
shall not know ; For still her cheeks possess the same,
Which native fhe 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 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.
Enter Coftard, 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,
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.
(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
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.
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?
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
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
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.
SCENE, before the King of Navarre's
Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Catha.
rine, Boyet, Lords and other attendants.
To whom he sends, and what's his embassy.
Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Boyet. Proud of imployment, willingly I go. [Exit.
Lord. Longaville is one.
Mar. I knew him, Madam, at a marriage-feaft,
Prin. Some merry-mocking lord, belike; is't fo?
Cath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplifh'd yoạth,