An hundred thousand Crowns, and not remembers
One Payment of an hundred thousand Crowns,
To have his Title live in Aquitain;

Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the Mony by our Father lent,
Than Aquitain fo guelded as it is.

Dear Princess, were not his Requests fo far
From Reafon's yielding, your fair felf should make
A yielding 'gainst fome Reason in my Breast,
And go well fatisfy'd to France again.

Prin. You do the King my Father too much Wrong,
And wrong the Reputation of
your Name,
In fo unfeeming to confefs Receipt

Of that which hath fo faithfully been paid.
King. I do proteft I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arreft your Word:
Bøyet, you can produce Acquittances
For fuch a Sum, from fpecial Officers
Of Charles his Father.

King. Satisfie me fo.

Boyet. So pleafe your Grace, the Packet is not come,

Where that and other Specialties are bound:

To Morrow you fhall have a Sight of them.
King. It fhall fuffice me; at which Interview,
All liberal Reafon would I yield unto:
Mean time receive fuch welcome at my Hand,
As Honour, without breach of Honour may
Make tender of, to thy true Worthiness.
You may not come, fair Princefs, in my Gates,
But here without you fhall be fo receiv'd,
As you shall deem your felf lodg'd in my Heart,
Tho' fo deny'd farther Harbour in my Houfe:
Your own good Thoughts excufe me, and farewel;
To Morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet Health and fair Defires comfort your Grace.
King. Thy own Wish, wish I thee, in every Place. [Exit.
Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own Heart.
Rofa. Pray you do my Commendations;

I would be glad to fee it..

Biron. I would you heard it groan.
Rofa. Is the Soul fick ?
Biron. Sick at the Heart.

Rofa. Alack, let it Blood.
Biron. Would that do it good?!

Rofa. My Phyfick fays ay.

Biron. Will you prick't with your Eye.

Rofa. No poynt, with my Knife.

Biron. Now fave my Life.

Rofa. And yours from long living.

Biron. I cannot ftay Thanksgiving.

Enter Dumain.

[Exit:

Dum. Sir, I pray you a Word: What Lady is that fame ?
Boyet. The Heir of Alanson, Rofaline her Name.
Dum. A gallant Lady; Monfieur fare you well.

Enter Longavile.

[Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word: What is the in white? Boyet. A Woman fometimes, if you faw her in the Light. Long. Perchance Light in the Light: I defire her Name. Boyet. She bath but one for her felf;

To defire that were a Shame.

Long. Pray you Sir, whofe Daughter?
Boyet. Her Mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's Bleffing on your Beard.
Boyet. Good Sir be not offended.
She is an Heir of Faulconbridge.
Long. Nay, my Choller is ended:
She is a moft fweet Lady.

Boyet. Not unlike Sir, that may be.
Enter Biron.

Biron. What's her Name in the Cap?

Boyet. Katherine by good hap.

Biron. Is the wedded or no?

Boyet. To her Will, Sir, or fo.

Biron. You are welcome Sir: Adieu.

[Exit Long.

Bojet. Farewel to me Sir,and welcome to you. [Ex. Biron. Mar. That laft is Biran, the merry Mad-cap Lord;

Not a Word with him but a Jeft.

Boyet. And every Jeft but a Word.

Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word. Boyet. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.

Mar. Two hot Sheeps, marry;

And wherefore not Ships?

(Lipst

Boyet. No Sheep (fweet Lamb) unless we feed on your

Mar. You Sheep and I Pafture; fhall that finish the Jeft? Boyet. So you grant Pafture for me.

Mar. Not fo, gentle Beast;

My Lips are no Common, though feveral they be.
Boyet. Belonging to whom?

Mar. To my 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 Obfervation (which very fldome lyes,
By the Heart's ftill Rhetorick, difclofed with Eyes)
Deceive me not row, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we Lovers intitle affected.
Prin. Your Reafon?

Boyet. Why all his Behaviours do make their Retire
To the Court of his Eye, peeping thorough Defire:
His Heart like an Agot with your Print impreffed;
Proud with his Form, in his Eye-Pride expreffed:
His Tongue all impatient to speak and not fee,
Did ftumble with hafte in his Eye-fight to be:
All Senfes to that Senfe did make their Repair,
To feel only looking on Faireft of fair:
Methought all his Senfes were lock'd in his Eye,
As Jewels in Chrystal for fome Prince to buy:

(glaft,
Who tendring their own Worth from whence they were
Did point out to buy them along as you past.
His Faces own Margent did coat fuch Amazes,
That all Eyes faw his Eyes inchanted with Gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,

And you give him for my fake but one loving Kifs.
Prin. Come to our Pavillion, Boyet is difpos'd.

Boyet. But to speak that in Words which his Eye hath I only have made a Mouth of his Eye,

(difclos'd;

By adding a Tongue which I know will not lie. Rofa. Thou art an old Love-monger, and speakert skilfully.

Mar. He is Cupid's Grandfather, and learns News of him,'

Rof

Rofa. Then was Venus like her Mother, for her Father is

but grim.

Boyet. Do you

Mar. No.

Boyet. What then, do you fee?

Refa. Ay, our way to be gone.

Boyet. You are too hard for me.

[Exeunt omnes.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter Armado and Moth.

SONG.

Arble Child, make passionate my Sense of hear

Arm. Wing.

Moth. Concolinel.

Arm. Sweet Air; go Tenderness of Years; take this Key, give Inlargement to the Swain; bring him feftinately hither: I must imploy him in a Letter to my Love.

Moth. Will you win your Love with a French Braul? Arm. How mean'ft thou, brauling in French?

Moth. No my compleat Mafter, but to Jig offa Tune at the Tongue's End, canary to it with the Feet, humour it with turning up your Eye; figh a Note and fing a Note, fomething through the Throat: If you fwallow'd Love with Singing, love fometime through the Nofe, as if you fnuft up Love by fmelling Love, with your Hat Penthouse-like o'er the Shop of your Eyes, with your Arms croft on your thinbelly 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 Complements, these are Humours, thefe betray nice Wenches that would be betray'd without thefe, and make them Men of Note: Do you note Men that most are affected to thefe?

Arm. How haft thou purchas'd this Experience?
Moth. By my Pen of Observation.

Arm. But O, but O..

Moth. The Hobby-horfe is forgot.

Arm. Call'st thou my Love. Hobby-horse.

Moth.

Moth. No Mafter, the Hobby-horfe is but a Colt, and your Love perhaps a Hackney:

But have you forgot your Love?

Arm. Almost I had.

Moth. Negligent Student, learn her by heart.

Arm. By heart, and in heart, Boy.

Moth. And out of Heart, Mafter: All thofe three I will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A Man, if I live (and this) by, in, and without, upon the Inftant: 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.

Moth. And three Times as much more; and yet nothing

at all.

ter.

Arm. Fetch hither the Swain, he muft carry me a Let

Moth. A Meffage well fimpathiz'd; a Horfe to be Embaffador for an Afs.

Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'st thou?

Moth. Marry Sir, you must fend the Afs upon the Horse, for he is very flow gated: But I go.

Arm. The way is but short; away.

Moth. As fwift as Lead, Sir.

Arm. Thy Meaning, pretty Ingenious? is not Lead a Metal heavy, dull and flow?

Moth. Minime honeft Mafter, or rather Master no.
Arm. I fay Lead is flow.

Moth. You are too swift Sir, to fay fo.

Is that Lead flow, Sir, which is fir'd from a Gun?
Arm. Sweet Smoak of Rhetorick;

He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he:
I fhoot thee at the Swain.

Moth. Thump then, and I fly.

[Exit.

Arm. A most accute Juvenal, voluble and free of Grace; By thy Favour, fweet Welkin, I muft figh in thy Face. Moft rude Melancholly, Valour gives the Place. My Herald is return'd.

Enter