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Moth. Hercules, master. Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. 74

Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the towngates on his back like a porter; and he was in love.

Arm. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson'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.


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Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!
Jaq. Man?

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq. That's hereby.

Arm. I know where it is situate.

Jaq. Lord, how wise you are!

Arm. I will tell thee wonders.

Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

Jaq. So I heard you say.

Arm. And so farewell.

Jaq. Fair weather after you! Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away!




[Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.


Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain: shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave: away!

Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose. 163 Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see— Moth. What shall some see?

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 sale of chapmen's tongues.
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker: good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame




168 Cost. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little pa-Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, tience as another man, and therefore I can be Till painful study shall out-wear three years, quiet. [Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD. No woman may approach his silent court: Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is Therefore to us seemth it a needful course, base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by Before we enter his forbidden gates, her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, forsworn, which is a great argument of false- Bold of your worthiness, we single you hood, if I love. And how can that be true love As our best-moving fair solicitor. which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Tell him, the daughter of the King of France, Love is a devil: there is no evil angel but Love. On serious business, craving quick dispatch, Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an Importunes personal conference with his Grace. excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, Haste, signify so much; while we attend, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will. is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours and second clause will not serve my turn; the is 30. [Exit BOYET. passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rime, for I am sure I shall turn sonneter. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.




Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
First Lord. Lord Longaville is one.
Know you the man?
Mar. I know him, madam: at a marriage


Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jacques Falconbridge, solemnized
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville.
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.

SCENE I.-The KING OF NAVARRE's Park. A The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,-
Pavilion and Tents at a distance.

Enter the PRINCESS of France, ROSALINE,
other Attendants.

Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your
dearest spirits:

Consider whom the king your father sends,
To whom he sends, and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, 4
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace
As Nature was in making graces dear
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.




If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,—
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will;


It should none spare that come within his power. Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?



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I saw him at the Duke Alençon's once; And much too little of that good I saw Is my report to his great worthiness.


King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,

Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. I hear your grace hath sworn out house-keeping: 'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, 105 And sin to break it.


68 But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold:
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

Ros. Another of these students at that time Was there with him, if I have heard a truth: 65 Berowne they call him; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, (Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.



Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love,

That every one her own hath garnished
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
First Lord. Here comes Boyet.

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[Gives a paper.

King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner that I were away, For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me stay. Ber. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

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You must not be so quick.

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Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. Ber. What time o' day?


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And he and his competitors in oath
Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt;
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to besiege his court,
Than seek a dispensation for his oath,
To let you enter his unpeeled house.
Here comes Navarre.


[The Ladies mask.

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Ber. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Ber. Nay, then I will be gone.
King. Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
Being but the one half of an entire sum
Disbursed by my father in his wars.
But say that he, or we,- -as neither have,— 132
Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the

One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,
Although not valu'd to the money's worth. 136
If then the king your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitaine,
And hold fair friendship with his majesty. 140
But that it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid
A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, 144
To have his title live in Aquitaine;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitaine, so gelded as it is.


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Where that and other specialties are bound: 164 To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand 168 As honour, without breach of honour, may Make tender of to thy true worthiness. You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; But here without you shall be so receiv'd, 172 As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so denied fair harbour in my house. Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:

To-morrow shall we visit you again.


Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your Grace!

King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt KING and his Train. Ber. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.

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Dum. A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well. [Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.


Long. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.

Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended.
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.





Ber. What's her name, in the cap?
Boyet. Rosaline, by good hap.
Ber. Is she wedded or no?
Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.
Ber. You are welcome, sir. Adieu.
Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to
you. [Exit BEROWNE.-Ladies unmask.
Mar. That last is Berowne, the merry mad-
cap lord:

Not a word with him but a jest.


And every jest but a word. Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.

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Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

[Offering to kiss her.
Not so, gentle beast. 220
My lips are no common, though several they be.
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

To my fortunes and me.
Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,


This civil war of wits were much better us'd 224 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. With that which we lovers entitle affected.

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To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire; His heart, like an agate, with your print impress'd,

Proud with his form, in his eye pride express'd:
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair,
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy; 241
Who, tend'ring their own worth from where they
were glass'd,

Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
I'll give you Aquitaine, and all that is his, 246
An' you give him for my sake but one loving

Prin. Come to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd. Boyet. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclos'd.

I only have made a mouth of his eye,
By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and
speak'st skilfully.


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sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love by singing love, sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet like a rabbit 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 complements, these are humours, these betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, do you note me?-that most are affected to these. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Moth. By my penny of observation.
Arm. But O-but 0,-



Moth. "The hobby-horse is forgot.' Arm. Callest 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 your love?

Arm. Almost I had.


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Moth. A message well sympathized: a horse to be ambassador for an ass.


Enter ARMADO and MOTH.

Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?
Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.

sense of hearing.

Moth. [Singing.] Concolinel,


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 love.

Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?


Arm. How meanest thou? brawling in


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 eyelids,

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