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Boyet. And every jest but a word.
word. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to
board. Mar. Two hot sheeps, marry,
Boyet. And wherefore not ships? No sheep, (sweet lamb) unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pafture; shall that finish
Mar. Not fo, gentle beast;
Boyet. Belonging to whom?
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 lies) By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
Prin. With what?
Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
were glasst, Did point out to buy them, along as you past.
His face's own margent
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'de
skilfully, Mar, He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of
is but grim.
Walerie, child; make passionate my sense
ACT III. SC EN E I.
The Park; near the Palace.
[Singing Arm. Sweet Air! go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain; bring him festinately hither: I must employ him in a letter to my
Moth, Mafter, will you win your love with a French brawl? Arm. How mean'st thou, brawling in French?
Moth. No, my complete master; but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids ; sigh a note and sing a note; sometimes through the throat, as if you swallow'd love with singing love; sometimes through the nose, as if you fnuft up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crost 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 'complishments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without these, and make them men of note (do you note me?) that are most affected to these ?
Arm. How haft thou purchas'd this experience ?
Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney: but have you forgot your love?
Arm. Almost I had.
Arm. What wilt thou prove?
Moth. A man, if I live: And this by, in, and out of, upon the instant: 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. * these are compliments.] We should read, 'complishments, i. c. accomplishments.
Moth. And three times as much more, and yet no. thing at all.
Arin. Fetch hither the swain, he must carry me aj E.: letter.
Moth. A message well fympathiz’d; a horse to be embassador for an ass.
Arm. Ha, ha; what say'st thou?
Moth. Marry, Sir, you must send the ass upon the E horse, for he is very slow-gaited: but I go.
Arm. The way iş but short; away.
Arnt. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ?
Moth. Minimè, honest master; or rather master, no.
Moth. You are too swift, Sir, to say so.
Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
[Exit. Arm. A most acute Juvenile, voluble and free of
Moth. A wonders
, maker, here's a Coflard broken
begin, Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the male, Sir. O Sir, plantan, a plain plantan; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, or salve, Sir, but plantan. Vol. II.
Arm. By vertue, thou enforceft laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen ; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: 0 pardon me, my ftars ! doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a falve ?
Moth. Doth the wise think them other? is not envoy a salve ? Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse, to
make plain. Some obfcure 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 ftill at odds, being but three. There's the moral, now the l'envoy.
Moth. I will add the l'envoy; fay the moral again.
Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
fire more? Cost. The boy hath fold him a bargain ; a goose,
that's flat; Sir, your penny-worth is good, an' your goose be fat. To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose. Let me see a fat l'envoy; I, that's a fat goose.
Arm. Come hither, come hither ; How did this argument begin? Most. By saying, that a Costard was broken in a
fhin. Then call'd you for a l'envoy.
Cost. True, and I for a plantan; Thus came the argument Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bougiig And he ended the market.
Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin ?