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Ros. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully.
ARBLE, child, make paffionate my sense of hearing.
Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
Who, tend'ring their own worth from whence they were glass'd,
Did point out to buy them, along as you pass'd.
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.
key, give enlargement to the swain; bring him feftinately hither:
Moth. Mafter, 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; 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.
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.
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.
Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal, dull, and flow?
Moth. Minimè, honeft mafter; or rather, mafter, no.
Moth. You are too fwift, fir, to say so.
Is that lead flow, fir, which is fir'd from a gun?
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:
Moth. Thump then, and I fly.
Arm. A most acute juvenile, voluble, and free of grace;
Enter Moth, 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.
Were ftill at odds, being but three.
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.
I give thee thy liberty, fet thee from durance; and, in lieu
Biron. O, my good knave Coftard! exceedingly well met. Coft. Pray you, fir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?
Coft. Thou haft no feeling of it, Moth;
I will fpeak that l'envoy.
I Coftard running out, that was fafely within,
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
Coff. True, true, and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.
Biron. What is a remuneration?
Coft. Marry, fir, halfpeny farthing.
Biron. O, why then, three farthings worth of filk.
Coft. When would you have it done, fir?
Coft. Well, I will do it, fir: fare you well.
Biron. Why, villain, thou must know first.
Hark, flave, it is but this:
The princess comes to hunt here in the park:
When tongues speak fweetly, then they name her name,
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,
Forsooth, in love! I that have been love's whip;
A critick; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy,