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MOTH.

Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd under such colours.

ARMADO.

Define, define, well-educated infant.

MOTH.

My father's wit my mother's tongue assist me!

ARMADO.

Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!

MOTH.

If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne'er be known;

For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale white shown.

Then if she fear, or be to blame,

By this you shall not know;

For still her cheeks possess the same

Which native she doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

ARMADO.

Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

MOTH.

The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages

since; but I think now 'tis not to be found; or if it were, it

would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.

ARMADO.

I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may

example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love

that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind

Costard; she deserves well.

MOTH.

[Aside] To be whipt; and yet a better love than my master.

ARMADO.

Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.

MOTH.

And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.

ARMADO.

I say, sing.

MOTH.

Forbear till this company be past.

Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA

DULL.

Sir, the Duke's pleasure is that you keep Costard safe; and

you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but 'a

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.

ARMADO.

I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!

JAQUENETTA.

Man!

ARMADO.

I will visit thee at the lodge.

JAQUENETTA.

That's hereby.

ARMADO.

I know where it is situate.

JAQUENETTA.

Lord, how wise you are!

ARMADO.

I will tell thee wonders.

JAQUENETTA.

With that face?

ARMADO.

I love thee.

JAQUENETTA.

So I heard you say.

ARMADO.

And so, farewell.

JAQUENETTA.

Fair weather after you!

DULL.

Come, Jaquenetta, away. Exit with JAQUENETTA

ARMADO.

Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.

COSTARD.

Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full stomach.

ARMADO.

Thou shalt be heavily punished.

COSTARD.

I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but

lightly rewarded.

ARMADO.

Take away this villain; shut him up.

MOTH.

Come, you transgressing slave, away.

COSTARD.

Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose.

MOTH.

No, sir; that were fast, and loose. Thou shalt to prison.

COSTARD.

Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation

that I

have seen, some shall see.

MOTH.

What shall some see?

COSTARD.

Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is

not for prisoners to be too 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

ARMADO.

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 falsehood-

if I

love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted?

Love is a familiar; Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but

Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent

strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit.

Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore

too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause

will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello

he regards not; his disgrace is to be called 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 rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet.

Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

Exit

ACT II.

SCENE II. The park

Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE,