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Dear Princess, were not his requests so far
From reafon's yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding 'gainft fome reafon in my breaft;

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 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.

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

King. Satisfy me fo.

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

King. It fhall fuffice me; at which interview,
All liberal reason 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 shall be fo receiv'd,
As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though fo deny'd fair harbour in my hoefe :
Your own good thoughts excufe me, and farewel;
To-morrow we fhall vifit you again.

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

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

I would be glad to see it.

Biron. I would you

*

heard it

grone

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Rof. Is the + fool fick?

Biron. Sick at the heart.

t foul.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame?
Boyet. The heir of Alanfon, Rofaline 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 . [Exit. Long.

Rof. Alack, let it blood.

Piron. Would that do it good?

Fof. My phylic fays, Ay.

Beron. Will you prick 't with your eye?

Ref No, poynt, with my knife.

Biron. Now, God fave thy life!
Ref. And your's from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.
Dum. Sir, &c.

fhe in white?

[Exit.

Boyet. A woman fometimes, if you faw her in the light.
Long. Perchance light in the light. I defire her name.
Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to defire that were a fhame.
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.

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that may be.

Biron. What's her name in the cap?

Boyet. Catharine, by good hap.

Biron. Is the wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, Sir, or fo.

Eiron. You are welcome, Sir: adieu!

Boyet. Farewel 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 dene of you to take him at his word.
Boyet. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.
Mar. I wo hot fheeps, marry.

Boyet. And wherefore not thips?

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

Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; shall that finish the jest ?

If my obfervation, (which very feldom lyes),
By the heart's ftill rhetoric, difclofed with eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected *.

Rof. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully.

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.

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Boyet. So you grant pasture 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.
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 agat with your print impreffed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expreffed :
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not fee,
Did stumble with hafte in his eye-fight to be:
All fenfes to that fenfe did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair;
Methought all his fenfes were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for fome prince to buy;

Who tend'ring their own worth, from whence they were glass'd,
Did point out to buy them, along as you pafs'd.

His face's own margent did quote fuch amazes,
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 kiss.
Prin. Come, to our 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 lye,

Rof. Thou art, &c.

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Arm. 7 Arble, child; make paffionate my fenfe of

Moth. Concolinel

[Singing.

Arm. Sweet air! go, tendernefs of years; take this key, give enlargement to the fwain; bring him feftinately hither: I muft employ him in a letter to my love. Moth. Mafter, will you win your love with a French brawl?

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

Moth. No, my compleat Mafter; 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 nofe, as if you fnuff'd up love by smelling love; with your hat penthoufe-like, o'er the fhop of your eyes; with your arms cross'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbet 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, thefe are humours; thefe betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without thefe, and make them men of note (do you note me?) that are most affected to thefe?

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

Arm. But O, but O.

Moth. The bobby-horfe is forgot *.

Arm. Call'ft thou my love hobby-horfe?

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.

*The burthen of an old fong.

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

Moth. And out of heart, Master: all those three I

will prove.

Arm. What wilt thou prove?

Moth. A man, if I live: and this by, 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 embaffador for an afs.

Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'ft 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 fhort; away.

Moth. As fwift as lead, Sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

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

Moth. Minimè, 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 fmoak of rhetoric !

He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:
I fhoot thee at the fwain.

Moth. Thump then, and I fly.

[Exit.

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

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