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Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: what lady is that fame? Boyet. The heir of Alanson, Rosaline her name. Dum. A gallant lady; Monsieur, fare you well.
[Exit. Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in white + ? Boyet. She is an heir of Faulconbridge I. Long. She is a molt sweet lady. Boyet. Not unlike, Sir; that may be ll. [Exit Long.
Rof. Alack, let it blood.
she in white ? Boyet. A woman sometimes, if you saw her in the light. Long. Perchance light in the light. I defire her name. Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to defire that were a thame. Long. Pray you, Sir, whose daughter ? Boyet. Her mother's, I have heard. Ling. God's blefling on your beard ! Boyet. Good Sir, be not offended.
She is an, &c.
She is, &c.
that may be. Biron. What's her name in the cap? Boyet. Ca barins, by good hap, Biron. Is the wedded, or no? Boyet. To her will, Sir, or so. Biron. You are welcome, Sır: adieu ! Beyet. Farewel to me, Sir, and welcome to you. [ExiiBiron.
Mar. That lait is Biron, thc merry mad-cap lord;
Boyet. And every jest but a word,
Boget. And wherefore nor thips?
observation, (which very seldom lyes), By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected *. Rof. 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 fa
ther is but grim.
Boyet. So you grant pasture for me.
Mür. Noc fo, gentie beast;
Buyet. Belonging to whom?
Prin. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree,
Buget. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
Prin. Come, so ou: pavilion : Boyer is dispos’d
Boyet. But to speak that in words which wis eye hath disclos'd ; I only ha 'e made a mouth of his eye, By adding a tongue which I know will not lye.
Rof. Thou art, &c. Vol. II.
Rof. Ay, our way to be gone.
A CT III.
The park, near the palace.
Enter Armado and Moth. Arm. 7 Arble, child; make passionate my sense of
hearing Moth. Concolinel
[Singing Arm. Sweet air ! go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain ; bring him festinately hither : I must employ him in a letter to my love.
Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl ?
Arm. How mean'st thou, brawling in French ?
Moth. No, my compleat Master ; but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your
feet, humour it with turning up your eye-lids; figh a note and fing a note; fometimes through the throat, as if you swallow'd love with singing love; fometimes 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; 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; these betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without these, and make them men of note (do you notë me?) that are most affected to these?
Arm. How halt thou purchas'd this experience ?
Moth. No, Mafter ; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love perhaps a hackney: but have you forgot your love ?
Arm. Almost I had.
The burthen of an old song.
Moth. Negligent student ! learn her by heart.
Arm. What wilt thou prove ?
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 en
Arm. I am all these three.
yet no. thing at all.
Arm. Fetch hither the swain, he must carry me a letter.
Moth. A message well fympathiz'd; a horse to be embassador for an ass.
Arm. Ha, ha, what fay'st thou ?
Moth. Marry, Sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gated : but I go.
Arm. The way is but short; away.
Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious ?
Moth. Minimè, honest Master; or rather, Master, no.
Moth. You are too swift, Sir, to say so.
Arm. Sweet smoak of rhetoric !
Re-enter Moth and Costard *.
Armi. I give thee thy liberty, fet thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this :
and Costard. Mob. A wonder, Martir; here's a Costard broken in a fhin. Arm. Some enigma, fome riddle; come, thy l'env.y' begin.
Caf. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the male, Sir. O Sir, plantan, a plain plantan; no l'envy, no l'envoy, or salve, Sir, but plantan.
Arm. By virrue, thou enforcest laughter; thy filly thought, my Spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling; O pardon me, my stars ! doth the inconfiderate take salve for l'envoyi and the word l'envoy for a saive?
Mob. Doth the wife think : hem other ? is not l'envoy a falve ?
it is an ep. ogue or discourse, to make plain Some obfcure pri cedence that hab' tofore been sain. I will example it. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow
with my l'envuj.
Mstb. I will add ebe l'envoy; say the moral again.
Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble bee,
Mob. Until:he goose came out of door,
Cost. The boy haih fold him a bargain ; a grose, that's fiat;
Am. Come hither, come hither;
Mith. By saying, that a Custard was broken in a shin, 'Then callid you for a l'envoy.
Coft True, and I for a plantan,
firm. But tel me, how was there a Costard broken in a min?
Arm. We will talk no more of this inatter,