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? MOTH. Of the sea-water green, sir.

ARM. Is that one of the four complexions? Mотн. 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.

wit.

MOTH. It was so, sir; for she had a green

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,

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.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

ARM. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar ? (5)

MOTн. 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 precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard; she deserves well.

MоTH. 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.

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't must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the daywoman." Fare you well.

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.

C

JAQ. So I heard you say.

ARM. And so farewell.

JAQ. Fair weather after you!
DULL. Come, Jaquenetta, away.

[Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA. 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.

d

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 MOTH 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 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 managers is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme. for, I am sure, I shall turn sonnets. Devise, wit; write, pen; for, I am for whole volumes in folio. [Exit.

(*) Old copies, Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.
(†) First folio, he.

for the day-woman.] A day-woman is a dairy-woman, a milk-woman. Johnson, in his Dictionary, derives dairy from day, which, he says, though without adducing any authority, was an old word for milk.

b That's hereby ] She means, scoffingly, that's as it may happen; that's to be seen. Armado understands her in the literal sense, close by.

e With that face?] An old bantering phrase, hardly obsolete now. The folio mars it by reading, "With what face?"

d That were fast and loose:] An allusion to a well-known game of the time, now called "pricking i' the garter."

e I do affect-] i.e. I do love, &c.

Affect, in this sense, is so

(*) First folio omits too.

common an expression with the old writers, as scarcely to require explanation.

f The first and second canse will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not,-] These are terms borrowed from the school of fence, and the fantastical treatises on the Duello by Saviolo and Caranza. See the Illustrative Comments on Act II. of" Romeo and Juliet."

gfor your manager is in love:] The corrector of Mr. Collier's copy of the folio 1632, with much plausibility, suggests for manager that we should read armiger; and two lines lower, instead of sonnet, as in the old editions, sonnet-maker. In the latter case, I prefer sonnets, the happy emendation of an American critic, Dr. Verplanck.

Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants.

BOYET. Now, madam, summon up your dearest" spirits;

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,

Your dearest spirits;] That is, your choicest, rarest spirits.

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.
BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
τ
[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? a
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, solemnized
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville:

b

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-accomplish'd
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: ift 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)

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 house-keeping:
"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;

b Well fitted in the arts,-] The older copies omit the article, which was supplied in the second folio.

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 long 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.

gone.

BIRON. Nay, then will I be
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,