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where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest. But to the place, where:-it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curiousknotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,"
King. "—that unletter'd small-knowing soul," Cost. Me.
King. "that shallow vassal,"
Cost. Still me.
King."-which, as I remember, hight Costard," Cost. O me.
King."-sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, with-with,-O! with-but with this I passion to say wherewith."
Cost. With a wench.
King."-with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I (as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Antony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation."
Dull. Me, an't shall please you: I am Antony Dull.
King. "For Jaquenetta, (so is the weaker vessel called,) which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain, I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all complements of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty,
"DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO."
Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.
King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.My lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er: And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
[Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAINE. Biron. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat, These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.Sirrah, come on.
Cost. I suffer for the truth, sir: for true it is, I
was taken with Jaque netta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and, therefore, welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again, and till then, set thee down, sorrow!
SCENE II.-ARMADO'S House in the Park.
Enter ARMADO and MoтH, his Page.
Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?
Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why? sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no;
lord! sir, no,
Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?
Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior.
Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.
Moth. And I, tough senior, 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 saying pretty? Arm. Thou pretty, because little.
Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Arm. What, that an eel is ingenious?
Moth. That an eel is quick.
Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers. Thou heatest my blood.
Moth. I am answered, sir.
Arm. I love not to be crossed.
vised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks, I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love!
Moth. Hercules, master.
Arm. Most sweet Hercules!-More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
Moth. Samson, master: 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 Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson'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 precisely of what complexion.
Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks, Samson had small reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her
Moth. It was so, sir, for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red.
Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.
Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.
Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue,
Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!
Moth. If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne'er be known;
By this you shall not know;
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.
Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since, 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 subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl, that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well.
Moth. [Aside.] To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master.
Arm. Sing, boy: my spirit grows heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.
Arm. I say, sing.
Moth. Forbear till this company be past.
Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAquenetta. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance: but a' must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid. Jaq. Man.
Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Arm. I know where it is situate.
Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose; thou shalt to prison.
Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see
Moth. What shall some see?
Cost. Nay nothing, master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet.
[Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD. Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, (which is a great argument of falsehood,) if I love; and how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory is, to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I shall turn sonnets. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.
SCENE I.-Another part of the Park. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance.
Enter the PRINCESS of France, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants. Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits.
Consider whom the king your father sends,
Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Boyel. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
1 Lord. Longaville is one. Prin. Know you the man? Mar. I know him, madam: at a marriage feast, Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized In Normandy, saw I this Longaville.
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? Mar. They say so most that most his humours know.
Dumaine, a well-accomplish'd
Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they
Ros. Another of these students at that time
Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love, That every one her own hath garnished With such bedecking ornaments of praise? Lord. Here comes Boyet.
Prin. Now, what admittance, lord? Boyet. Navarre had notice of your fair approach; And he, and his competitors in oath, Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady. Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt, He rather means to lodge you in the field, Like one that comes here to besiege his court, Than seek a dispensation for his oath, To let you enter his unpeopled house. Here comes Navarre. [The Ladies mask.
But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold:
[Gives a paper. King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner that I were away, For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Biron. I know you did. Ros. To ask the question! Biron. You must not be so quick. Ros. "Tis 'long of you, that spur me with such
How needless was it, then,
Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.
Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
Ros. The hour that fools should ask.
Biron. Nay, then will I begone.
King. Madam, your father here doth intimate The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; Being but the one half of an entire sum, Disbursed by my father in his wars. But say, that he, or we, (as neither have,) Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, One part of Aquitain is bound to us, Although not valued to the money's worth. If, then, the king your father will restore But that one half which is unsatisfied, We will give up our right in Aquitain, And hold fair friendship with his majesty. But that, it seems, he little purposeth, For here he doth demand to have repaid An hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, To have his title live in Aquitain; Which we much rather had depart withal, And have the money by our father lent, Than Aquitain, so gelded as it is. Dear princess, were not his requests so far From reason's yielding, your fair self should make A yielding, 'gainst some reason in my breast, And go well satisfied to France again.
Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong,
Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
We arrest your word.
Boyet, you can produce acquittances For such a sum, from special officers Of Charles his father.
Satisfy me so.
Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not
Where that and other specialties are bound:
King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
You may not come, fair princess, within my gates;
Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace!
King. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place! [Exeunt KING and his train. Biron. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.
Ros. Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.
Biron. I would, you heard it groan.
Ros. Is the fool sick?
Long. I beseech you a word. What is she in the white?
Boyet. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
Long. Perchance, light in the light. I desire
Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
Boyet. Not unlike, sir: that may be.