Touch.

Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your goats, Audrey. And how ^note, Audrey? am I the man yet? doth my simple feature content you?

Aud.

Your features! Lord warrant us! what features ^note?

Touch.

I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.

Jaq. [Aside]

O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove in a thatched house!

Touch.

When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning ^note in a little room. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.

Aud.

I do not know what ‘poetical’ is: is it honest in deed and word? is it a true thing?

Touch.

No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what they swear in poetry may ^note be said as lovers they do feign ^note.

Aud.

Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical?

Touch.

I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some hope thou didst feign.

Aud.

Would you not have me honest?

Touch.

No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.

Jaq. [Aside]

A material fool!

Aud.

Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods make me honest.

Touch.

Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul ^note slut were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

Aud.

I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul ^note.

Touch.

Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been with Sir Oliver Martext the vicar of the next village, who hath promised to meet me in this place of the forest and to couple us.

Jaq. [Aside]

I would fain see this meeting.

Aud.

Well, the gods give us joy!

Touch.

Amen. A man may ^note, if he were of a fearful heart, stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts ^note. But what though? Courage! As horns are odious, they are necessary. It is said, ‘many a man knows no end of his goods:’ right; many a man has good horns, and knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns?—even so:—poor men alone? ^note No, no; the noblest deer hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more ^note worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a married man more honourable than the bare brow of a bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to want. Here comes Sir Oliver. Enter Sir Oliver Martext. Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go with you to your chapel?

Sir Oli.

Is there none here to give the woman?

Touch.

I will not take her on gift of any man.

Sir Oli.

Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.

Jaq.

Proceed, proceed: I'll give her.

Touch.

Good even, good Master What-ye-call't ^note: how

do you, sir? You are very well met: God 'ild ^note you for your last company: I am very glad to see you: even a toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered.

Jaq.

Will you be married, motley?

Touch.

As the ox hath his bow ^note, sir, the horse his curb and the falcon her ^note bells, so man hath his desires; and as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.

Jaq.

And will you, being a man of your breeding, be married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to church, and have a good priest that can tell you what marriage is: this fellow will but join you together as they join wainscot; then one of you will prove a shrunk panel, and like green timber warp, warp.

Touch. [Aside]

I am not in the mind but I were better to be married of him than of another: for he is not like to marry me well; and not being well married, it will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife.