| [Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH] | |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? |
| MOTH | A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. |
| MOTH | No, no; O Lord, sir, no. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? |
| MOTH | By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Why tough senior? why tough senior? |
| MOTH | Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. |
| MOTH | And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Pretty and apt. |
| MOTH | How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Thou pretty, because little. |
| MOTH | Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
And therefore apt, because quick. |
| MOTH | Speak you this in my praise, master? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
In thy condign praise. |
| MOTH | I will praise an eel with the same praise. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
What, that an eel is ingenious? |
| MOTH | That an eel is quick. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood. |
| MOTH | I am answered, sir. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I love not to be crossed. |
| MOTH | [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I have promised to study three years with the duke. |
| MOTH | You may do it in an hour, sir. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Impossible. |
| MOTH | How many is one thrice told? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. |
| MOTH | You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man. |
| MOTH | Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
It doth amount to one more than two. |
| MOTH | Which the base vulgar do call three. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
True. |
| MOTH | Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
A most fine figure! |
| MOTH | To prove you a cipher. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort, me, boy: what great men have been in love? |
| MOTH | Hercules, master. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. |
| MOTH | Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter: and he was in love. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth? |
| MOTH | A woman, master. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Of what complexion? |
| MOTH | Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Tell me precisely of what complexion. |
| MOTH | Of the sea-water green, sir. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Is that one of the four complexions? |
| MOTH | As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Green indeed is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. |
| MOTH DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. My love is most immaculate white and red. |
| MOTH | Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Define, define, well-educated infant. |
| MOTH | My father's wit and my mother's tongue, assist me! |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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. |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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. |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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 whipped; and yet a better love than my master. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. |
| MOTH | And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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 allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I do betray myself with blushing. Maid! |
| JAQUENETTA | Man? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I will visit thee at the lodge. |
| JAQUENETTA | That's hereby. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I know where it is situate. |
| JAQUENETTA | Lord, how wise you are! |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I will tell thee wonders. |
| JAQUENETTA | With that face? |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
I love thee. |
| JAQUENETTA | So I heard you say. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
And so, farewell. |
| JAQUENETTA | Fair weather after you! |
| DULL | Come, Jaquenetta, away! |
| [Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA] | |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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. |
| DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO |
Thou shalt be heavily punished. |
| COSTARD | I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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] | |
| DON ADRIANO DE 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] |