Dear Princefs, were not his requests so far

From reafon's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast;

And go well fatisfied 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 protest I never heard of it ;
And if you prove it, I'll repay it back,
Or yield up Aquitain.

Prin. We arreft your word.

Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For fuch a fum, from fpecial officers
Of Charles his father.

King. Satisfy me fo.

Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come Where that and other fpecialties are bound: To-morrow you shall have a fight of them.

King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,

All liberal reafon I will 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 received,
As you fhall deem yourfelf lodg'd in my heart,
Though fo deny'd fair harbour in my house:
Your own good thoughts excufe me, and farewell;
To-morrow we fhall vifit you again.

Prin. Sweet health and fair defires confort your Grace!
King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place.

[Exit. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to my own heart. Rof. I pray you, do my commendations;

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame?
Boyet. The heir of Alenoçn, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady: Monfieur, fare you well. [Exit.
Long. I befeech you a word: what, is fhe in white +?
Boyet. She is an heir of Faulconbridge ‡.

Long. She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, Sir; that may be .

Rof. Alack, let it blood.

02

Biron. Would that do it good?

Rof. My phyfic fays. Ay.

Biron. Will you prick't with your eye?

Rof. No, poynt, With my knife.

Biron. Now, God fave thy life!

Rof. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot ftay thanksgiving.
Dum. Sir, &c.

fhe in white?

[Exit Long.

Boyet. A woman fometimes, if you faw her in the light.
Long. Perchance light in the light I defire her name.

if

[Exit.

Boyet. She hath but one for herfelf; to defire that were a fhame.

Long. Pray you, Sir, whofe daughter?

Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.

Long God's blefling on your beard!

Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended.
She is an, &c.

Boyet. Farewell to me, Sir, and welcome to you.

[Exit Biron.

Mar. That laft is Biron, 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.

Boyet. And wherefore not ships?

No fheep, (fweet lamb,) unless we feed on your lips.

Mar. You fheep, and 1 pafture; fhall that finish the jest?

Boyer.

eyes,

If my obfervation, (which very feldom lies,)
By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected *.
Rof. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakeft fkill-
fully.

Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of
him.

Rof. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is but grim.

Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches?

Mar. No.

Boyet. What then? do you fee?

Boyet. So you grant pafture for me.
Mar. Not fo, gentle beaft;

My lips are no common, though several 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.
If my obfervation, &c.

is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers intitle affected.
Prin. Your reafon?

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire.
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough defire:
His heart, like an agate with your print impreffed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expreffed:
His tongue, all impatient to fpeak and not fee,
Did ftumble with hafte in his eye-fight to be:
All fenfes to that fenfe did make their repair,
To feel only looking on faireft of fair;
Methought all his fenfes were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for fome prince did buy;

Raf

Who tend'ring their own worth, from whence they were glass'd,
Did point out to buy them, along as you pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote fuch a mazes,
That all eyes faw his eyes inchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,

An' you give him for my fake but one loving kifs.

Prin. Come, to your pavilion: Boyet is difpos'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.

Rof. Thou art, &c.

Arm. Sweet air! go, tendernefs of years; take this key, give enlargement to the fwain; bring him feitinately hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love.

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

Arm. How mean'ft thou, brawling in French?

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 eye-lids; figh a note and fing a note; fometimes through the throat, as if you fwallow'd love with finging love; fometimes through the nose, as

you fnuff'd up love by fmelling love; with your hat penthoufe-like, o'er the fhop of your eyes; with your arms crofs'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbit on a fpit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a fnip, and away: thefe are 'complishments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without thefe, and make them men of note (do you note me?) that are moft affected to these?

Arm. How haft thou purchas'd this experience?
Moth. By my pen of obfervation.

Arm. But O, but O

Moth. The bobby horfe is forgot *.

Arm. Call'st thou my love hobby-horse?

Moth. No, Mafter; the hobby-horfe is but a colt, and your love perhaps a hackney: but have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almoft I had.

O 3

Moth.

The burden of an old fong

Moth. Negligent ftudent! learn her by heart.
Arm. By heart, and in her heart, boy.

will

Moth. And out of heart, Mafter: all thofe three I prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A man, if I live: and this by, and in, and out of, upon the inftant: by heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her, becaufe 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.

Arm. Fetch hither the fwain, he muft carry me a letter.

Moth. A meffage well fympathiz'd; a horse to be ambaffador for an afs.

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

Moth. Marry, Sir, you muft fend the afs upon the horfe, for he is very flow-gated: but I go.

Arm. The way is but fhort; away.

Moth. As fwift as lead, Sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead of metal heavy, dull, and flow?

Moth. Minimé, honeft Mafter; or rather, Mafter, no. Arm. I fay, lead is flow.

Moth. You are too fwift, Sir, to say so.

Is that lead flow, Sir, which is fir'd from a gun?
Arm. Sweet smoak of rhetoric!

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 moft acute juvenile, voluble, and free of grace; By thy favour, fweet welkin, I must figh in thy face. Moft rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. My herald is return'd.

SCENE