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Coft. I fuffer for the truth, Sir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the four cup of profperity: affliction may one day fmile again, and until then, fit thee down, forrow. [Exeunt.
SCENE changes to Armado's Houfe.
Enter Armado, and Moth.
Arm. BOY, what fign is it, when a man of great fpirit grows
Moth. A great fign, Sir, that he will look fad. Arm. Why, fadness is one and the self-fame thing, dear imp.
Moth. No, no; O lord, Sir, no.
Arm. How can'ft thou part fadness and melancholy, my tender Juvenile ?
Moth. By a familiar demonftration of the working, my tough Signior.
Arm. Why, tough Signior? why, tough Signior? Moth. Why, tender Juvenile? why, tender Juvenile? Arm. I fpoke it tender Juvenile, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.
Moth. And I tough Signior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty and apt.
Moth. How mean you, Sir, I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my faying pretty?
Arm. Thou pretty, becaufe little.
Moth. Little! pretty, because little; wherefore apt? Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master?
Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Moth. That an eel is quick.
Arm. I do fay, thou art quick in anfwers. Thou heat'ft my blood.
Moth. I am answer'd, Sir.
Arm. I love not to be croft.
Moth. He speaks the clean contrary, croffes love not him.
Arm. I have promis'd to study three years with the King.
Moth. You may do it in an hour, Sir.
Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapster.
Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamefter. Arm. I confefs both; they are both the varnish of a compleat man.
Moth. Then, I am fure, you know how much the grofs fum of deuce-ace amounts to.
Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.
Moth. Which the base vulgar call, three.
Moth. Why, Sir, is this fuch a piece of study? now here's three ftudied ere you'll thrice wink; and how eafie it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing-horfe will tell
Arm. A molt fine figure.
Moth. To prove you a cypher.
Arm. I will hereupon confefs, I am in love; and as it is bafe for a foldier to love, fo am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my fword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Defire prifoner; and ranfom him to any French courtier for a new devis'd curt'fie. I think it fcorn to figh; methinks, I fhould out-fwear Cupid. Comfort me, boy, what great men have been in love?
Moth. Hercules, mafter.
Arm. Moft fweet Hercules! More authority, dearboy, name more; and, fweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
Moth. Sampfon, mafter; he was a man of good carriage; great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love.
Arm. O well-knit Sampfon, ftrong-jointed Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampfon's love, my dear Moth?
Meth. A woman, master,
Arm. Of what complection?
Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.
Arm. Tell me precifely of what complection?
Arm. Is that one of the four complections? 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, furely, affected her for her wit.
Moth. It was fo, Sir, for fhe had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Moft maculate thoughts, mafter, are mask'd under fuch colours.
Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.
Moth. My father's wit and my Mother's tongue affift me!
Arm. Sweet invocation of a child, moft pretty and pathetical!
Moth. If the be made of white and red,
By this you fhall not know;
A dangerous rhime, mafter, against the reason of white,
Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
Moth. The world was guilty of fuch a ballad some three ages fince, but, I think, now 'tis not to be found ; or if it were, "it would neither ferve for the writing, nor the tune.
Arm. I will have that fubject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digreffion by fome mighty prefident. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Coftard; the deserves well
Moth. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my master.
Arm. Sing, boy; my fpirit grows heavy in love.
Moth. Forbear, 'till this company is past.
Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid.
Dull. Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Ca
Arm. I do betray my felf with blushing: maid,.........
Arm. I will vifit thee at the lodge.
Arm. I know, where it is fituate.
Jaq. So I heard you say.
Jaq. Fair weather after you !
[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.
(7) Maid. Fair Weather after you. Come, Jaquenetta, away.] Thus all the printed Copies: but the Editors have been guilty of much Inadvertence. They make Jaquenetta, and a Maid enter: whereas Jaquenetta is the only Maid intended by the Poet, and who is committed
Arm. Villain, thou fhalt faft for thy offence, ere thou be pardoned.
Coft. Well, Sir, I hope, when I do it, I fhall do it on a full ftomach.
Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punish'd.
Coft. I am more bound to you, than your followers; for they are but lightly rewarded.
Arm. Take away this villain, shut him
Moth. No, Sir, that were fast and loose; thou fhalt to prison.
Coft. Well, if ever I do fee the merry days of defolation that I have feen, fome fhall fee
Moth. What fhall fome fee?
Coft. Nay, nothing, mafter Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prifoners to be filent in their words, and therefore I will fay nothing; I thank God, I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt Moth with Coftard. Arm. I do affect the very ground (which is base) where her fhoe (which is bafer) guided by her foot (which is bafeft) doth tread. I fhall be forfworn, 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 ftrength; yet was Solomon fo feduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's but-fhaft is too hard for Hercules's club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier; the firft and second cause will not serve my turn; the Paffado he refpects not, the Duello he regards not; his difgrace is to be call'd boy; but his glory is to fubdue men. Adieu, valour; ruft, rapier; be ftill, drum; for your manager is in love;
to the Cuftody of Dull, to be convey'd by him to the Lodge in the Park. This being the Cafe, it is evident to Demonftration, that- Fair Weather after you-must be fpoken by Jaquenetta; and then that Dull fays to her, Come, Jaquenetta, away, as I have regulated the Text.