Arm.

Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth.

Concolinel.

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 ^note, will you win your love with a French brawl?

Arm.

How meanest thou? brawling in French?

Moth.

No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your ^note feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids ^note, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime ^note through the throat, as if ^note you swallowed love with singing love, sometime ^note through the nose ^note, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly ^note doublet ^note, 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 complements ^note, these are humours; these betray nice wenches, that

would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note—do you note me?—that ^note most are affected to these.

Arm.

How hast thou purchased this experience?

Moth.

By my penny ^note of observation.

Arm.

But O,—but O,—

Moth.

‘The hobby-horse is forgot.’

Arm.

Callest thou my love ‘hobby-horse’?

Moth.

No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, 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, ^note by, in, and without ^note, upon the instant: by heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her ^note; 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. ^note

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

Moth.

A message ^note well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador for an ass.

Arm.

Ha, ha! what sayest thou?

Moth.

Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.

Arm.
The way is but short: away!

Moth.
As swift as lead, sir.

Arm.
The ^note meaning, pretty ingenious ^note?
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 ^note:
Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?

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

Moth.
Thump, then, and I flee ^note. [Exit.

Arm.
A most acute juvenal; volable ^note and free ^note of grace!
By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:
Most rude ^note melancholy, valour gives thee place.
My herald is return'd. ^noteRe-enter Moth with Costard.

Moth.

A wonder, master! here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Arm.

Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy ^note l'envoy; begin ^note.

Cost.

No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail ^note, sir: O, ^note sir, plantain, a plain ^note plantain! no l'envoy, no l'envoy; no salve ^note, sir, but a plantain!

Arm.

By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought my spleen; the heaving of my lungs ^note provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and the word ^note l'envoy for a salve?

Moth.

Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?

Arm.
No, page ^note: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain ^note.
I will example it:

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.
There's the moral. Now the l'envoy.

Moth.
I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.

Arm.
The fox, the ape, the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.

Moth.

Until the goose came out of door,
And stay'd the odds by adding ^note four ^note.

Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l'envoy.

The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
Were still at odds, being but three.

Arm. ^note
Until the goose came out of door,
Staying the odds by adding ^note four.

Moth.

A good l'envoy, ending in the goose: would you desire more?

Cost.
The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat.
Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see; a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.

Arm.
Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?

Moth.
By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.
Then call'd you for the ^note l'envoy.

Cost.
True, and I for a plantain: thus came your argument in;
Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;

And he ended the market.

Arm.

But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin?

Moth.

I will tell you sensibly.

Cost.

Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak that l'envoy:

I Costard ^note, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Arm.

We will talk no more of this matter.

Cost.

Till there be more matter in the shin.

Arm.

Sirrah Costard ^note, I will enfranchise thee.

Cost.

O, marry me to one Frances: I smell some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

Arm.

By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person: thou wert immured ^note, restrained, captivated, bound.

Cost.

True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose ^{note note}.

Arm.

I give thee thy liberty, set thee from ^note durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this significant [giving a letter] to the country maid Jaquenetta: there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine honour ^note is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.

Moth.

Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.

Cost.

My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew ^note! [Exit Moth. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the latin word for three farthings: three farthings— remuneration.—‘What's the price of this inkle ^note?’—‘One penny ^note.’—‘No, I'll give you a remuneration:’ why, it carries

it. Remuneration! ^note why, it is a fairer name than French ^note crown. I will never buy and sell out of this word.

Biron.

O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met.

Cost.

Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Biron.

What ^note is a remuneration?

Cost.

Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.

Biron. ^note

Why, then, three-farthing worth ^note of silk.

Cost.

I thank your worship: God be wi' you!

Biron.
Stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win ^note my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Cost.

When would you have it done, sir?

Biron.

This afternoon.

Cost.

Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well.

Biron.

Thou knowest not what it is.

Cost.

I shall know, sir, when I have done it.

Biron.

Why, villain, thou must know ^note first.

Cost.

I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.

Biron.

It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this:

Cost.

Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration

a 'leven-pence ^note farthing better: most sweet gardon! I will do it, sir, in print ^note. Gardon ^note! Remuneration!

Biron.

And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;

And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A wightly ^note wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan ^note:
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. [Exit. ^note

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