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Biron. How low foever the matter, I hope in god for high words.
Long. A high hope for a low having: god grant us patience!
Long. To hear meekly, fir, to laugh moderately, or to forbear both.
Biron. Well, fir, be it as the style shall give us cause.
Coft. The matter is to me, fir, as concerning Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manor.
Biron. In what manner?
Coft. In manner, and form, following, fir; all thofe three. I was feen with her in the manor-house, fitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is, in manner and form following. Now, fir, for the manner : it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman; for the form, in fome form.
Biron. For the following, fir?
Coft. As it fhall follow in my correction; and god defend the right!
King. Will you hear the letter with attention?
Biron. As we would hear an oracle.
Coft. Such is the fimplicity of man to hearken after the flesh.
REAT deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and fole dominator of Navarre, my foul's earth's god, and body's foftring patron
Coft. Not a word of Coftard yet.
King. So it is
Coft. It may be fo; but if he say it is fo, he is, in telling true, but fo, fo.
Coft. Be to me, and every man that dares not fight!
Coft. Of other men's fecrets, I beseech you.
King. So it is. Befieged with fable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black oppreffing humour to the most wholesome phyfick of
thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk: the time when? about the fixth hour, when beafts most graze, birds beft peck, and men fit down to that nourishment which is call'd Supper: So much for the time when. Now for the ground which: which, I mean, I walk'd upon; it is ycleped, thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most prepofterous event that draweth from my fnow-white pen the ebon-colour'd ink, which here thou vieweft, beholdeft, furveyeft, or feeft. But to the place where: it ftandeth north north east and by east from the west corner of thy curious knotted garden. There did I fee that lowfpirited fwain, that base minnow of thy mirth,
King. That unletter'd fmall-knowing foul,
King. That fhallow vaffal,
Coft. Still me.
King. Which, as I remember, hight Coftard, ·
King. Sorted and conforted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, with-with-o, with but with this I passion to say wherewith :
Coft. With a wench.
King. With a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more understanding, a woman; him, I (as my ever efteem'd duty pricks me on) have fent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment by thy fweet grace's officer, Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and eftimation.
Dull. Me, an't fhall please you: I am Anthony Dull.
King. For Jaquenetta (fo is the weaker veffel call'd) which I apprehended with the aforefaid fwain, I keep her as a veffel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the leaft of thy fweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning beat of duty, Don Adriano de Armado.
Biron. This is not fo well as I look'd for, but the best that ever I heard.
King. Ay; the best for the worst. But, firrah, what say you to this?
Coft. Sir, I confefs the wench.
King. Did you hear the proclamation?
Coft. I do confefs much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.
King. It was proclaim'd a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench.
Coft. I was taken with none, fir; I was taken with a damofel.
Coft. This was no damofel neither, fir; fhe was a virgin.
Caft. If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.
King. This maid will not ferve your turn, fir.
Coft. This maid will ferve my turn, fir.
King. Sir, I will pronounce fentence; you fhall fast a week with bran and water.
Coft. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And don Armado fhall be your keeper. My lord Biron, fee him deliver'd o'er,
And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other hath fo ftrongly fworn.
Coft. I fuffer for the truth, fir: for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore, welcome the four cup of profperity! affliction may one day fmile again; and until then fit thee down, forrow.
Enter Armado, and Moth.
BOY, what fign is it when a man of great spirit grows
Moth. A great fign, fir, that he will look fad.
Arm. Why, sadness is one and the selfsame thing, dear imp.
Arm. How canft thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenile ?
Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough fignior.
Arm. Why tough fignior? why tough fignior?
Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenile, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate, tender.
Moth. And I, tough fignior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name, tough.
Arm. Pretty, and apt.
Moth. How mean you, fir? I pretty, and my faying apt? or I apt, and my faying pretty?
Arm. Thou pretty, becaufe little.
Moth. Little pretty, because little; wherefore apt?
Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.
Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master ?
Arm. In thy condign praife.
Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.
Arm. What? that an eel is ingenious?
Moth. That an eel is quick.
Arm. I do fay, thou art quick in anfwers. Thou heat'ft my blood.
Moth. I am answer'd, fir.
Arm. I love not to be crofs'd.
Moth. He fpeaks contrary, croffes love not him.
Moth. How many is one thrice told?
Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fits the spirit of a tapfter.
Arm. I confefs both, they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am fure, you know how much the grofs fum of deuce-ace amounts to.
Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.
Moth. Which the base vulgar call, three.
Moth. Why, fir, is this fuch a piece of study? now here's three ftudied ere you'll thrice wink; and how eafy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing-horfe will tell you.
Arm. A moft fine figure!
Moth. To prove you a cipher.
[afide. Arm. I will hereupon confefs, I am in love; and as it is base for a foldier to love, fo 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 defire prisoner, and ranfome him to any French courtier for a new devis'd court'fy. I think it fcorn to figh; methinks, I fhould outfwear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?
Moth. Hercules, master.
Arm. Moft fweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more: and, fweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
Moth. Sampfon, 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 wellknit Sampson! strongjointed Sampson! I do