Enter DULL, with a letter, and COSTARD.

Dull. Which is the duke's own person?
Biron. This, fellow. What wouldst ?

Dull. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough but I would see his own person in fesh and blood.

Biron. This is he.

Dull. Signior Arme-Arme-commends you. There's villainy abroad: this letter will tell you more.

Cost. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. King. A letter from the magnificent Armado. Biron. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for aigh words.

Long. A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!

Biron. To hear? or forbear hearing?

Long. To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to forbear both.

Biron. Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb in the merriness.

Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. Biron. In what manner?

Cest. In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is in manner and form following. Now, sir, for the manner,-it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,-in some

King. Peace!

Cost. -be to me, and every man that dares not fight!
King. No words!

Cost. —of other men's secrets, I beseech you.
King.

"So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did mend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome phic of thy health giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when? About the sixth bor; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, aud men sit own to that nourishment which is called supper. So much for the time when : Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon: it is yelept thy park. Then for the place where ; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the on coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surTerest, or seest: But to the place where,-It standeth northwrth-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious kated garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain, that Lase mi now of thy mirth,

Cost. Me?

King.

-"that unletter'd small-knowing soul,

• Tharborough-thirdborough, a peace-officer. Heares. The heaven here mentioned is the heaven of the arist stage-the evering, or internal roof. The " high "expected in Armado's letter were associated with "a heaven," as the ranting heroes of the early tragedy mouthed Beir lofty language beneath a very humble roof.

Marier. A thief was taken with the mainour when he was taken with the thing stolen-hond habend, having in the hand.

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 everesteemed 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 yessel 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 compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty,

DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO."

Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard.

King. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this?

Cost. Sir, I confess the wench.

King. Did you hear the proclamation?

Cost. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.

King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken with a wench.

Cost. I was taken with none, sir; I was taken with a damosel.

King. Well, it was proclaimed damosel.

Cost. This was no damosel neither, sir; she was a virgin. King. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed virgin. Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid.

King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. This maid will serve my turu, sir. King. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: You shall fast a week with bran and water.

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 DUMAIN. 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 Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore, Welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again, and until then, Sit thee down, sorrow! [Exeunt

SCENE II.-Another part of the same.
Armado's House.

Enter ARMADO and MoтH.

Moth. Of the sea-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, Sampson had smali reason for it. He, surely, affected her for her wit. Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red. Moth. Most maculatea thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

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

heat'st my blood.

Moth. I am answered, sir.

Arm. I love not to be crossed.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

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;
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale-white shown:
Then, if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know;

For still her cheeks possess the same,
Which native she doth owe. b

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 't is 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 prece

Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir.

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

Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum 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 such a piece of study? Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. Arm. A most fine figure! Moth. To prove you a cipher.

[Aside.

Arm. I will hereupon confess, I am in love: and, as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devised courtesy. I think scom to sigh; methinks, I should outswear 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. Sampson, 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 Sampson! strong-jointed Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too,-Who was Sampson'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

a Crosses. A cross is a coin.

master.

park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my [Aside 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 well.

you

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

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq. That 's hereby.d

Arm. I know where it is situate.
Jaq. Lord, how wise you are!
Arm. I will tell thee wonders.
Jaq. With that face?e
Arm. I love thee.

Jaq. So I heard you say.
Arm. And so farewell.

Jaq. Fair weather after you!

Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away. [Ex. DULL and JAQ. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

they are but lightly rewarded.

Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for

a Maculate thoughts are impure thoughts,

b Owe-possess.

Day-woman most probably means dairy-woman.

d Hereby-a provincial expression for as it may happen. Armado takes it as hard by.

up.

Arm. Take away this villain; shut him Math. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.

Cast. 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 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 MoтH 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 Sampson was so tempted; and he had an excellent strength: yet was Solomon so seduced; and he had a very good wit. Cupid's buttshaft 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 sonnet. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.

Consider who the king your father sends;
To whom he sends; and what 's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor

Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre: the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitain; a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace,
As Nature was in making graces dear,
When she did starve the general world beside,
And prodigally gave them all to you.

Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but

mean,

tongues :

Needs not the painted flourish of your praise;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'de by base sale of chapmen's d
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth,
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker,-Good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame

Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Tel painful study shall out-wear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to us seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor :

Tell him, the daughter of the king of France,
On serious business, craving quick despatch,
Importunes personal conference with his grace.
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.

Boget. Proud of employment, willingly I go. [Exit. Pria. 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, solemniz'd
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss
(If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil)
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should none spare that come within his power.

Prin. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is 't so? Mar. They say so most, that most his humours know. Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the rest?

Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplis youth,

Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd:
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the duke Alençon's once;
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report, to his great worthiness.

Ros. Another of these students at that time
Was there with him: As I have heard a truth,
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,

I never spent an hour's talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit:
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love;
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
That every one her own hath garnished
Mar. Here comes Boyet.

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. Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and Attendants.

King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. Fair I give you back again; and welcome I have not yet the roof of this court is too high to be yours; and welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine.

King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. King. Hear me, dear lady, I have sworn an oath. Prin. Our Lady help my lord! he 'll be forsworn. King. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing else.

King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.

Prin. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear, your grace hath sworn-out housekeeping:
"T is deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it:

But pardon me, I am too sudden bold;

To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.

Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,

And suddenly resolve me in my suit. [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. How needless was it then to ask the question !

Biron. You must not be so quick.

Ros. T is longa of you that spur me with such questions.

Biron. Your wit 's too hot, it speeds too fast, 't will tire. Ros. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron. What time o' day?

Ros. The hour that fools should ask.

Biron. Now fair befall your mask!

Ros. Fair fall the face it covers!

Biron. And send you many lovers!
Ros. Amen, so you be none.
Biron. Nay, then will I be gone.

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,
And wrong the reputation of your name.
In so unseeming to confess receipt

Of that which hath so 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 arrest your word :-
Boyet, you can produce acquittances,
For such a sum, from special officers
Of Charles his father.

Satisfy me so.

King.
Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not com
Where that and other specialties are bound;
To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

King. It shall suffice me: at which interview,
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime, receive such welcome at my hand
As honour, without breach of honour, may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
But here without you shall be so receiv'd,

As
you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
Though so denied farther harbour in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
To-morrow we shall visit you again.

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 my 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?

Biron. Sick at the heart.

Ros. Alack, let it blood.

Biron. Would that do it good?

Ros. My physic says, ay.

Biron. Will you prick 't with your eye?
Ros. No poynt, with my knife.
Biron. Now, God save thy life!

Ros. And yours from long living!
Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving.

[Retiring.

Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What lady is that same?
Boyet. The heir of Alençon, Rosaline her name.
Dum. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well.

[Exit.

Long. I beseech you a word: What is she in the white?

Boyet. A woman sometimes, if you saw her in the light.
Long. Perchance, light in the light: I desire her name
Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that
were a shame.

Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard.
Long. God's blessing on your beard!
Boyet. Good sir, be not offended:
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long. Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be.
Biron. What's her name, in the cap?
Boyet. Katharine, by good hap.
Biron. Is she wedded, or no?

Boyet. To her will, sir, or so.

Biron. You are welcome, sir; adieu!

1 Exit LONG.

Boyet. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. [Exit BIRON.-Ladies unmask.

The Princess to be lodged, according to her rank, without the gates, although denied a farther advance-lodgment-in the King's house.

No pynt-the double negative of the French, non point.

Mar. That last is Biron, the merry madcap lord; Not a word with him but a jest. Boyet. And every jest 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 sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture: Shall that finish the jest?

Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.

[Offering to kiss her. Mar. Not so, gentle beast; 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 't is abus'd. Boyet. If my observation, (which very seldom lies,) By the beart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

Prin. With what?

Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle, affected. Prin. Your reason.

Boyet. Why, all his behaviours do make their retire To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed, Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed :

| His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eye-sight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
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 such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
Prin. Come, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'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.

Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skil

fully.

SCENE I.-Another part of the Park.

Enter ARMADO and MOTH.

Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth. Concolinel

[Singing.

Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years! take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately ither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. Moth. Will you win your love with a French brawl? Arm. How meanest 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 eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat, penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet, like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a ship and away: These are complements, these are hamours; these betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note, (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?
Moth. By my penny of observation.

Arm. But O, but 0

Moth. -the hobby-horse is forgot.

Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse?

Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love?

Arm. Almost I had.

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 thor prove?

letter.

Moth. A message well sympathized; a horse to be embassador for an ass!

Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou?

Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go. Arm. The way is but short; away. Moth. As swift as lead, sir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? Moth. Minimè, honest master; or rather, master, no. Arm. I say, lead is slow. Moth.

You are too swift, sir, to say so:
Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he :-
I shoot thee at the swain.

Moth.
Thump, then, and I flee. [Exit.
Arm. A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of

grace!