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Rof. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully.
see? Rof. Ay, our way to be gone. . Boyet. You are too hard for me.
Enter Armado, and Moth.
A RMA DO.
[finging Arm. Sweet air ! go, tenderness of years ; take this
Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
eye pride exprefled :
Prin. Come to our pavilion, Boyet is dispos'd
Boyet. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclos’d;
Rof. Thou art, &C.
key, give enlargement to the swain ; bring him festinately hither:
Moth. Maiter, will you win your love with a French brawl?
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; sometimes through the throat, as if you swallow'd love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuff’d up love by smelling love; with your
hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms cross'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbet on a spit;
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; these 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 hast thou purchas'd this experience ?
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. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and out of, upon the instant: 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.
Arm. Fetch hither the swain ; he must carry me a l
Moth. A message well sympathiz'd; a horse to be en for an ass.
Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'st thou?
Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the hoi. he is very slow-gaited: but I go. Arm. The
is but fhort; away. Moth. As swift as lead, fir.
Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ?
Moth, Minimè, honest master; or rather, master, no.
Moth. You are too swift, sir, to say fo.
Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetorick!
Enter Moth, and Costard.'
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 salve, fir, but plantan.
Arm. By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy filly thought, my, spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling : 0, pardon me, my stars ! doth the inconsiderate take salve for l envoy, and the word ' envoy for a salve?
Moth. Do the wise think them other? is not l envoy a salve?
Arm. No, page, it is an epilogue, or discourse, to make plain
Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this : bear this significant to the countrymaid Jaquenetta; there is remuneration ; for the best ward of mine honours is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow.
[Exit. Moth. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adicu! [Exit.
Coft. My sweet 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 sell out of this word.
Coft. Pray you, fir, how much carnation ribbon may a man
2n, a piza
Moth. Until the goose came out of door,
Cost. The boy hath told him a bargain ; a goose, that's flat ;
Arm. Come hither, come hither;
Moth. By saying that a Costard was broken in a fhin.
Col. True, and I for a plantan;
Arm. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a fhin?
Coft. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth;
Arm. We will talk no more of this matter.
Arm. By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty. Enfreedoming thy person ; thou
. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.
Biron. What is a remuneration ?
Biron. O, stay, slave, I must employ thee:
Cost. When would you have it done, fir?
Biron. It must be done this afternoon.
Coft. Guerdon, o sweet guerdon! better than remuneration;