Cost. This maid will serve my turn, sir. King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water.

Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.

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King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper. My Lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er; And go we, lords, to put in practice that

Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.

[Exeunt King, Longaville, and Dumain.] Bir. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, 310 These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. Sirrah, come on.

Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day [315 smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! [Exeunt.

Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir?

45

Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Moth. 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. 50 Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three. Arm. True.

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put "years" to the word "three," and study three years in two [55 words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!

Moth. To prove you a cipher.

in

Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love; [60 and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am 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 ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devis'd courtesy. I [es think scorn to sigh; methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?

Moth. Hercules, master.

Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my [78 child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Moth. Samson, master. He was a man of good carriage, great carrtage, for he carried the town gates on his back like a porter; and he was [75 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? [so 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. [s5 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; [90 but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small 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.

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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 [100 tongue, assist me!

Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical!

Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since, but I think now 't is 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 [120 some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves well.

Moth. Aside.] To be whipp'd; and yet a [125 better love than my master.

Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.

Arm. I say, sing.

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Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter Clown [COSTARD], Constable [DULL], and Wench [JAQUENETTA].

Dull. Sir, the Duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe; and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance, but 'a must fast three days a week. For this damsel, must [135

keep her at the park; she is allow'd for the daywoman. Fare you well.

Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!

Jaq. Man?

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

Arm. I love thee.

Arm. I know where it is situate.

Jaq. With that face?

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145

150

[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.

155

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.

100

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.

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Moth. What shall some see?

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 patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. [171 [Exeunt Moth and Costard].

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 falsehood, if I love. And how can that be true [17 love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil; there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. [180 Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club; and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to [185 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 rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit! write, [190 pen! for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.

Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, with three attending LADIES, and three LORDS.

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

Consider who the King your father sends,
To whom he sends, and what 's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
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.

Needs not the painted flourish of your praise.
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utt'red 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
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall outwear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court;
Therefore to 's seemeth 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 solicitor.

15

20

25

Tell him, the daughter of the King of France, so

[Kath.] The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth,

Of all that virtue love for virtue loved;
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
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.

01

[Ros.] Another of these students at that time Was there with him, if I have heard a truth. 65 Biron 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.

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75

'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, And sin to break it.

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.

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110

[Hands 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. Bir. Did not I dance with you in Brabant

once ?

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,
Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more; in surety of the
which

One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money's worth.
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.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to have repaid

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140

A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, 145
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.

Dear Princess, were not his request so far

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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.

Re-enter BIRON.

200

205

[Exit Long.

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Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

We arrest your word.

Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a sum from special officers
Of Charles his father.

Where that and other specialties are bound. 185 To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

170

King. It shall suffice me; at which interview All liberal reason I will yield unto. Meantime receive such welcome at my hand 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 As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, Though so deni'd fair harbour in my house. 175 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!

[Exit.

Bir. Lady, I will commend you to mine own

heart.

180

Bir. You are welcome, sir; adieu. Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to [Exit Biron.

you.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry mad-cap lord.

215

tles, agree.

225

This civil war of wits were much better used On Navarre and his book-men; for here 't is

abused.

Boyet. If my observation, which very seldom lies,

By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with

eyes,

Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. 230

nose, as if you snuff'd up love by smelling love with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thinbelly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket like a man after the [20 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 ?- [25 men that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?

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

30

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.

$5