[Reads] ‘so it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper: so much for the time when. Now for the ground which; which, I mean, I walked upon: it is y-cleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest; but to the place where; it standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious- knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,’—
Costard
Me?
Ferdinand
[Reads] ’that unlettered small-knowing soul,’—
Costard
Me?
Ferdinand
[Reads] ’that shallow vassal,’—
Costard
Still me?
Ferdinand
[Reads] ‘which, as I remember, hight Costard,’—
Costard
O, me!
Ferdinand
[Reads] ‘sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, which with,— O, with — but with this I passion to say wherewith,—
Costard
With a wench.
Ferdinand
[Reads] ‘with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment, by thy sweet grace’s officer, Anthony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.’
Dull
Me, an’t shall please you; I am Anthony Dull.
Ferdinand
[Reads] ‘For Jaquenetta,— so is the weaker vessel called which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain,— I keep her as a vessel of the law’s fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty. Don Adriano de Armado.’
Biron
This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard.
Ferdinand
Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this?
Costard
Sir, I confess the wench.
Ferdinand
Did you hear the proclamation?
Costard
I do confess much of the hearing it but little of the marking of it.
Ferdinand
It was proclaimed a year’s imprisonment, to be taken with a wench.
Costard
I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damsel.
Ferdinand
Well, it was proclaimed ‘damsel.’
Costard
This was no damsel, neither, sir; she was a virgin.
Ferdinand
It is so varied, too; for it was proclaimed ’virgin.’
Costard
If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.
Ferdinand
This maid will not serve your turn, sir.
Costard
This maid will serve my turn, sir.
Ferdinand
Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water.
Costard
I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.
Ferdinand
And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
My Lord Biron, see him deliver’d o’er:
And go we, lords, to put in practise that
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
Exeunt Ferdinand, Longaville, and Dumain
Biron
I’ll lay my head to any good man’s hat,
These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
Sirrah, come on.
Costard
I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!
Exeunt
SCENE II. THE SAME.
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 ran
som 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
It was so, sir; for she had a green wit.
Don Adriano de Armado
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
ACT II
SCENE I. THE SAME.
Enter the Princess of France, Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, Boyet, Lords, and other Attendants
Boyet
Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits:
Consider who the king your father sends,
To whom he sends, and what’s his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world’s esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace
As Nature was in making graces dear
When she did starve the general world beside
And prodigally gave them all to you.
Princess
Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues:
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to
task the tasker: good Boyet,
You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall outwear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court:
Therefore to’s seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor.
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
Importunes personal conference with his grace:
Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will.
Boyet
Proud of employment, willingly I go.
Princess
All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.
Exit Boyet
Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
First Lord
Lord Longaville is one.
Princess
Know you the man?
Maria
I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast,
Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville:
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem’d;
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue’s gloss,
If virtue’s gloss will stain with any soil,
Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will;
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should none spare that come within his power.
Princess
Some merry mocking lord, belike; is’t so?
Maria
They say so most that most his humours know.
Princess
Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
Katharine
The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth,
Of all that virtue love for virtue loved:
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alencon’s once;
And much too little of that good I saw
Is my report to his great worthiness.
Rosaline
Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, if I have heard a truth.
Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour’s talk withal:
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
Complete Plays, The Page 274