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SCENE II. Re-enter Moth and Costard. * Arm. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this:
and Costard. Moth. A wonder, Master; here's a Coftard broken in a shin. Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy l'envoy begin.
Cost. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no falve in the mail, Sir. O Sir, plantain, a plain plantain ; no l'envoy, no l'envoy, or falve, Sir, but plantan.
Arm. By virtue, thou enforceft laughter; thy Glly thought, my (pleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling: O pardon me, my Itars! doth the inconsiderate take salve for I've voy, and the word l'envoy for a salve? Moth. Doth the wise think then other? is not l'envoy a salve?
Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
low with my l'envoy.
Muth. I will add the l'envoy; tay the moral again.
Moth. Until the goofe came out of door,
Cost. The boy hath fold him a bargain; a goose, that's fiat;
Arm. Come hither, come hither;
Moth. By saying, that a Costard was broken in a hin.
Coft. True, and I for a plantain;
Arm. But tell me, how was there a Costard broken in a fhin ?
Cost. 'Thou haft no feeling of it, Moth.
bear this fignificaat to the country-maid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. Moth. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu!
[Exit. Coft. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my in-cony jewel! Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the Latin word for three farthings! three farthings, remuneration. What's the price of this incle? a penny:
No, I'll give you a remuneration: why, it carries it. Remuneration !--why, it is a fairer name than a French crown. I will never buy and fell out of this word.
SCENE III. Enter Biron. Biron. O my good krave Coftard, exceedingly well met.
Coft. Pray you, Sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?
Biron. What is a remuneration?
Biron. O ftay, slave, I must employ thee:
Goft. When would you have it done, Sir?
. Cost. Till there be more matter in the shin. Arm. Sirrah, Coftard, I will infranchise thee. Coft. O, marry me to one Frances; I smell fome ľ
some Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean, fetting thee at liberty; enfreedoming thy perfon; thou wert immur’d, restrained, captivated, bound.
Cost. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.
Arm. I give, &c.
goose in this.
Coft. I will come to your Worship to-morrow morning.
Biron. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this: The Princess comes to hunt here in the park: And in her train there is a gentle lady; When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name, And Rosaline they call her; ask for her, And to her sweet hand see thou do commend This feal'd-up counsel. There's thy gueidun; go.
Coft. Guerdon,---O sweet guerdon! better than remuneration, eleven pence farthing better: moft swett guerdon! I will do it, Sir, in print. Guerdon, remuneration.
Biron. O! and I, forsooth, in love!
beadle to a humorous sigh:
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
ACT IV. SCENE I.
A pavilion in the park near the palace. Enter the Prince's, Rosaline, Maria, Catharine, Lords,
at:endants, cnd a Foresiır.
Was that the King that spur'd his horse
his horse fo hard Against the steep uprising of the hill?
Boyet. I know not; but I think it was not he.
Prin. Whoe'er he was, he shew'd a mounting mind. Well, Lords, to-day we hall have our dispatch ; On Saturday we will return to France. Then, Forester, my friend, where is the bush, That we muit iland and play the murderer in?
For. Here by, upon the edge of yonder coppice; A stand, where you may make the faireft shoot *
Boyet. the fairelt toot. Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair, that 'shoot; And thereupon thou speak'ıt the faireft hoor.
For. Pardon me, Madam; for I meant not fo.
Prin. What, what? first praise me, then again fay, no? O short liv'd pride! not fair? alack, for wo!
For. Yes, Madam, fair.
Prin. Nay, never paint me now;
For. Nothing bu fair is tha: which you inherite
Prin See, see, my beauty will be fav'd by merit.
Boyet. Here comes a member of the commonwealth t. Goft. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron, to one La
dy Rosaline. Prin. Othy letter, thy letter: he's a good friend of
mine, Stand aside, good bearer. -Boyet, you can carve: Break
this capon *.
Prin. We will read it, I swear.
Boyet reads. Br heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous : truth itself, that thou art lovely; more fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself; have commiferation on thy heroical
Boyet. Do not curs'd wives hold that self-lovereignty
Prin. Only for praise; and praise we may afford
Enter Costard. Boyet. Here comes, &c. + commonwealth,
Cof. God dig you-den all; pray you, which is the head lady?
Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.
Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
Cost. The thickest and the tallest; it is so, truth is truth.
Prin. What's your will, Sir? what's your will!
Meaning the letter, as poulet in French fignifies both a chicken and'a love-letter,