SCENE IV.
Enter Costard, Dull, Jaquenetta a Maid.
Dul.
Sir, the King's pleasure is, that you keep Costard
safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor
no penance; but he must fast three days a-week. For
this damsel, I must keep her at the park, she is allow'd
for the day-woman. Fare you well.
-- 128 --
Arm.
I do betray myself with blushing: maid,—
Jaq.
Man,—
Arm.
I will visit thee at the lodge.
Jaq.
That's here by.
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.
Jaq.
So I heard you say.
Arm.
And so farewel.
Jaq.
Fair weather after you!
Dull.
Come, Jaquenetta, away.3 note
[Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.
Arm.
Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offence, 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 punish'd.
Cost.
I am more bound to you, than your followers;
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.
-- 129 --
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. 4 noteIt is not for prisoners to be 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 falshood, if I love.
And how can that be true love, which is falsly 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 butshaft
is too hard for Hercules's club, and therefore too
much odds for a Spaniard's rapier; the first and second
cause will not serve my turn;5 note the Passado he respects
not, the Duello he regards not; his disgrace is to be
call'd boy; but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu,
valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum! for your manager
is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal
God of rhime, for, I am sure, I shall turn
sonneteer. Devise wit, write pen, for I am for whole
volumes in folio.
[Exit.
-- 130 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
