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Ros. 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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ARBLE, child, make paffionate my sense of hearing.
Moth. Concolinel.
Arm. Sweet air! go, tenderness of years; take this


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 see,
Did ftumble with hafte in his eyefight 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 cryftal 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 pass'd.
His face's own margent did quote fuch amazes,
That all eyes faw his eyes enchanted with gazes:
I'll give you Aquitain, and all that is his,
And 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 lie.
Rof. Thou art, &6.





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key, give enlargement to the swain; bring him feftinately hither:
I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Moth. Mafter, will you win your love with a French brawl?
Arm. How mean'ft 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; figh a note, and fing a note; fometimes through the throat, as if you fwallow'd love with finging love; fometime through the nose, 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 crofs'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbet 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 snip and away: these are 'complishments, these are humours; thefe betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without these; and make them men of note, (do you note me?) that most are affected to these.

Arm. How haft thou purchas'd this experience?

Moth. By my penny of observation.

Arm. But, o, but, o

Moth. The bobby-horfe is forgot."

Arm. Call'ft thou my love a hobby-horse?

Moth. No, mafter; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney: but have you forgot your love? Arm. Almoft I had.

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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, because 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.

a The burden of an old fong,


Arm. Fetch hither the fwain; he muft carry me a l Moth. A meffage well fympathiz'd; a horse to be em for an afs.

Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'ft thou ?

Moth. Marry, fir, you must send the afs upon the hoi. he is very flow-gaited: but I go.

Arm. The way is but fhort; away.
Moth. As fwift as lead, fir.

Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?

Is not lead a metal, dull, and flow?

Moth. Minimè, honeft mafter; or rather, mafter, no.
Arm. I fay, lead is flow.

Moth. You are too fwift, fir, to say so.

Is that lead flow, fir, which is fir'd from a gun?
Arm. Sweet fmoke of rhetorick!

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

Moth. Thump then, and I fly.

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


Enter Moth, and Coftard."


and Coftard.

Moth. A wonder, mafter; here's a Coftard broken in a shin.

Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy envoy begin.


Coft. No egma, no riddle, no l' envoy, no falve, in the male, fir. O fir, plantan, a plain plantan; no l'envoy, no l' envoy, or falve, fir, but plantan.

Arm. By virtue, thou enforceft laughter; thy filly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous fmiling: o, pardon me, my stars! doth the inconfiderate take falve for l'envoy, and the word l'envoy for a falve?

Moth. Do the wife think them other? is not l'envoy a falve?

Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue, or discourse, to make plain

Some obfcure precedence that hath tofore been fain.



I will example it. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my P envoy.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,

Were ftill at odds, being but three.
There's the moral; now the


Moth. I will add the 'envoy; fay the moral again.

Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were ftill at odds, being but three.


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I give thee thy liberty, fet thee from durance; and, in lieu
thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this: bear this fignificant
to the countrymaid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration; for the
beft ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependants. Moth,
Moth. Like the fequel, I. Signior Coftard, adicu! [Exit.
Coft. My fweet ounce of man's flesh, my inkhorn, adieu !
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.

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Enter Biron.

Biron. O, my good knave Coftard! exceedingly well met. Coft. Pray you, fir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

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Coft. Thou haft no feeling of it, Moth;

I will fpeak that l'envoy.

I Coftard running out, that was fafely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my fhin.

Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.

Coft. Till there be more matter in the fhin.

Arm. Sirrah, Caftard, I will enfranchise thee.

Coft. O, marry me to one Frances; I fmeil fome l'envoy, fome goofe in this.

Arm. By my fweet foul, I mean fetting thee at liberty. Enfreedoming thy person; thou
wert immur'd, reftrained, captivated, bound.

Coff. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.
Arm. I give, &c.


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Biron. What is a remuneration?

Coft. Marry, fir, halfpeny farthing.

Biron. O, why then, three farthings worth of filk.
Coft. I thank your worship; god be with you!
Biron. O, ftay, flave, I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, my good knave,
Do one thing for me that I fhall entreat.

Coft. When would you have it done, fir?
Biron. O, this afternoon.

Coft. Well, I will do it, fir: fare you well.
Biron. O, thou knoweft not what it is.
Coft. I fhall know, fir, when I have done it.

Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Coft. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.
Biron. It must be done this afternoon.

Hark, flave, 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 fweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her; afk for her,

And to her white hand fee thou do commend

This feal'd up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.

Coft. Guerdon, o fweet guerdon! better than remuneration; eleven pence farthing better: moft fweet guerdon! I will do it, fir, in print. Guerdon, remuneration.


Biron. O! and I,

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Forsooth, in love! I that have been love's whip;
A very beadle to an amorous figh;

A critick; nay, a night-watch constable;

A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
Than whom no mortal more magnificent.
This whimp'ring, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
This fenior-junior, giant-dwarf, dan Cupid,
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
Th anointed fovereign of fighs and groans:
Liege of all loiterers and malecontents:

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