where? it ftandeth north-north-eaft, and by cafl from the weft corner of thy curious-knotted garden. There did I fee that low-fpirited fwain, that bafe minow of thy mirth," (Coft. Me?) that unletter'd small-knowing foul, (Coft. Me?) that fhallow vaffal, (Coft. Still me?) which, as I remember, bight Coftard, (Coft. O me!) fort and conforted, contrary to thy fablished proclaimed edict and continent canon, with, with, with, ·0 -but with this I paffion to fay wherewith:

Coft. With a wench.

King. With a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or for thy more understanding, a woman; him, I (as my ever-efleem'd duty pricks me on) have fent to thee, to receive the need of punishment, by thy fweet Grace's officer, Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and eftimation. Dull. Me, an't fhall please you: I am Anthony Dull.

King. For Jaquenetta, (fo is the weaker veffel call'd,) which I apprehended with the aforefaid fwain, I keep her as a vaffal of thy law's fury, and shall at the leaft of thy fweet notice bring her to trial. Thine in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty,

Don Adriano de Armado.

Biron. This is not fo well as I look'd for, but the best that ever I heard.

King. Ay; the beft for the worst. But, firrah, what fay you to this?

Coft. Sir, I confefs the wench.

King. Did you hear the proclamation?

Coft. I do confefs much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.

King. It was proclaim'd a year's imprifonment to be taken with a wench.

Coft. I was taken with none, Sir, I was taken with a damofel.

King. Well, it was proclaimed damofel.

Coft. This was no damofel neither, Sir, fhe was a virgin.

King. It is fo varied too, for it was proclaim'd virgin.

Coft.

Coft. If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.

King. This maid will not ferve your turn, Sir.

Coft. This maid will ferve my turn, Sir.

King. Sir, I will pronounce fentence; you fhall fast. a week with bran and water.

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

King. And Don Armado fhall be your keeper. My Lord Biron, fee him deliver'd o'er.

And go we, Lords, to put in practice that,

Which each to other hath so strongly fworn.

[Exeunt.

Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle fcorn. Sirrah, come on.

Caft. I fuffer for the truth, Sir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome to the four cup of profperity: affliction may one day fmile again, and until then, fit thee down, forrow. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Changes to Armado's houfe.

Enter Armado and Moth.

Arm. Boy, what fign is it, when a man of great fpirit grows melancholy?

Moth. A great fign, Sir, that he will look fad.

Arm. Why, fadness is one and the felf-fame thing, dear imp.

Moth. No, no; O Lord, Sir, no.

Arm. How can't thou part fadnefs 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.

N 3

Moth.

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 faying apt! or I apt, and my faying pretty?

Arm. Thou pretty, because little.

Moth. Little! pretty, becaufe little; wherefore apt? Arm. And therefore apt, becaufe quick

Moth. Speak you this in my praife, Mafter?

Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth. I will praise an eel with the fame praise.
Arm. What? that an cel is ingenious.

Moth. That an eel is quick.

Arm. I do fay, thou art quick in anfwers. Thou heat'ft my blood.

Moth. I am anfwer'd, Sir.

Arm. I love not to be crofs'd.

Moth. He fpeaks 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.
Arm. Impoffible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapfter. Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamefter.

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

Moth. Then, I am sure, 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.

Arm. True.

Moth. Why, Sir, is this fuch a piece of ftudy? Now here's three fludied ere you'll thrice wink; and how eafy is it to put years to the word three, and ftudy three years in two words, the dancing-horse will tell you.

Arm. A moft fine figure.

Moth. To prove you a cypher.

Arm. I will hereupon confefs, I am in love; and, as

• Meaning, money.

it

it is bafe for a foldier to love, fø I am 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 pri'oner; and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devis'd court'fy. 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, dear boy, name more; and, fweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Moth. Samfon, Master; he was a man of good car riage; great carriage; for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love.

Arm. O well-knit Samfon, ftrong-jointed Samfon! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samfon'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 precifely of what complexion?

Moth. Of the fea-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; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samfon had small reafon for it. He, furely, affected her for her wit.

Moth. It was fo, Sir, for the had a green wit.

Arm My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth Moft maculate thoughts, Mafter, are mafk❜ð under fuch colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, af

fift me!

Arm Sweet invocation of a child, moit pretty and pathetical!

Moth. If fhe be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne'er be known;

For blufhing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shown;

Then

Then if the fear, or be to blame,

By this you fhall not know;

For ftill her cheeks poffefs the fame,
Which native the doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, Mafter, againft the reafon of white

and d.

Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the king and the beggar?

Math. "The world was guilty of such a ballad fome "three ages fince, but, I think, now 'tis not to be "found;" or if it were, it would neither serve 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: fhe deferves well

Moth. To be whipp'd; and yet a better love than my mafter deferves.

Afide. Arm. Sing, boy; my fpirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's greater marvel loving a light wench. Arm. I fay, fing,

Moth. Forbear, till this company is pass'd.

SCENE IV.

Enter Coftard, Dull, Jaquenetta a maid.

Dull. Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Coftard fafe; and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but he must fast three days a-week. For this damfel, I must keep her at the park, she is allow'd for the day-woman Fare you well.

Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid,-
Jaq. Man,

Arm. I will vifit thee at the lodge.

Jaq. That's here by.

Arm. I know where it is fituate.

Faq. Lord, how wife you are!
Arm. I will tell thee wonders.
Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

Faq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And fo farewell.

Jaq.