Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion ? 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 small 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 maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Moth. My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me ! Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical! Moth. If she be made of white and red, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, 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. 3 Of which she is naturally possessed. Arm. I will have the 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. To be whipped; and yet a better love than my master. [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. 5 you well. Fare Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. — Maid. Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Jaq. That's hereby. Arm. I know where it is situate. Jaq. Lord, how wise you are! Arm. I will tell thee wonders. Jaq. With that face? Arm. I love thee. Jaq. So I heard you say. Arm. And so farewell. Jaq. Fair weather after you! Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away. [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. 4 Transgression. 5 Dairy-woman. 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. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. 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. 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 MоTH 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 butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause will 6 Love... vild stu 7 Arrow to shoot at butts with. 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 sonneteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I.-Another part of the same. A Pavilion and Tents at a distance. Enter the Princess of France, ROSALINE, MARIA, Consider who the king your father sends; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; 8 Best. Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues : To know his pleasure; and in that behalf, grace. [Exit. 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, solémnized 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; |