Armado.
Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth.
Concolinel—* ^note [Singing.

Arm.

Sweet Air!—Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give inlargement to the swain; bring him festinately hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my love.

Moth.

Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?6Q0055

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,^{2 note} humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note and sing a note; sometimes through the throat, as if you swallow'd love with singing love; sometimes through the nose, as if you snufft up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like, o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crost on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbit 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 compliments,* ^note these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betray'd without these, and make the men of note:^{3 note}

Arm.

How hast thou purchas'd this experience?

Moth.

By my pen of observation.

Arm.

But O, but O—

Moth.

The hobby-horse is forgot.^{4 note}

Arm.

Call'st thou my love hobby-horse?

Moth.

No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt,* ^note and your love, perhaps, a hackney: but have you forgot your love?

Arm.

Almost 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.

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 enjoy her.

Arm.

I am all these three.

Moth.

And three times as much more; and yet nothing at all.

Arm.

Fetch hither the swain, he must carry me a letter.

Moth.

A message well sympathis'd; a horse to be embassador for an ass.

Arm.

Ha, ha; what say'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.

Moth.

As swift as lead, Sir.

Arm.
Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull and slow?

Moth.
Minimè, honest master: or rather, master, no.

Arm.
I say, lead is slow.

Moth.
You are too swift, Sir, to say so.^{5 note}


Is that lead slow, Sir, which is fir'd from a gun?

Arm.
Sweet smoak of rhetorick!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:
I shoot thee at the swain.

Moth.
Thump then, and I fly. [Exit.

Arm.
A most acute Juvenile, voluble and free of grace;
^{6 note}By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd.

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