SCENE IIThe same.
Enter ARMADO and MOTH.
Boy, what sign is it when a man of
great spirit grows melancholy?
A great sign, sir, that he will look
Why, sadness is one and the self-same
thing, dear imp.
No, no; O Lord, sir, no.
How canst thou part sadness and
melancholy, my tender juvenal?
By a familiar demonstration of the (10)
working, my tough senior.
Why tough senior? why tough senior?
Why tender juvenal? why tender
I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent
epitheton appertaining to thy young
days, which we may nominate tender.
And I, tough senior, as an appertinent
title to your old time, which we may
name tough. (19)
Pretty and apt.
How mean you, sir? I pretty, and
my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying
Thou pretty, because little.
Little pretty, because little. Wherefore
And therefore apt, because quick.
Speak you this in my praise, master?
In thy condign praise.
I will praise an eel with the same
What, that an eel is ingenious? (30)
That an eel is quick.
I do say thou art quick in answers:
thou heatest my blood.
I am answered, sir.
I love not to be crossed.
He speaks the mere contrary;
crosses love not him.
I have promised to study three years
with the duke.
You may do it in an hour, sir. (40)
How many is one thrice told?
I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the
spirit of a tapster.
You are a gentleman and a gamester,sir.
I confess both: they are both the
varnish of a complete man.
Then, I am sure, you know how (49)
much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.
It doth amount to one more than two.
Which the base vulgar do call three.
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.
A most fine figure! (59)
To prove you a cipher.
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? (69)
Most sweet Hercules! More authority,dear
boy, name more; and, sweet my
child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
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.
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 (80)
A woman, master.
Of what complexion?
Of all the four, or the three, or the
two, or one of the four.
Tell me precisely of what complexion.
Of the sea-water green, sir.
Is that one of the four complexions?
As I have read, sir; and the best of
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.
It was so, sir; for she had a green
My love is most immaculate white
Most maculate thoughts, master,
are masked under such colours.
Define, define, well-educated infant.
My father's wit and my mother's (101)
tongue, assist me!
Sweet invocation of a child; most
pretty and pathetical!
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 (111)
Which native she doth owe.
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason
of white and red.
Is there not a ballad, boy, of the
King and the Beggar?
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 (119)
neither serve for the writing nor the tune.
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.
To be whipped; and yet a
better love than my master.
Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in
And that's great marvel, loving a
light wench. (130)
I say, sing.
Forbear till this company be past. Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA.
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.
I do betray myself with blushing.
I will visit thee at the lodge.
I know where it is situate.
Lord, how wise you are!
I will tell thee wonders.
With that face?
I love thee.
So I heard you say.
And so, farewell.
Fair weather after you! (150)
Come, Jaquenetta, away! Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.
Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences
ere thou be pardoned.
Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I
shall do it on a full stomach.
Thou shalt be heavily punished.
I am more bound to you than your
fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.
Take away this villain; shut him up. (160)
Come, you transgressing slave; away!
Let me not be pent up, sir: I will
fast, being loose.
No, sir; that were fast and loose:
thou shalt to prison.
Well, if ever I do see the merry days
of desolation that I have seen, some shall see.
What shall some see?
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.
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.