ARMADO
Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?
MOTH
A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.
ARMADO
Why, sadness is one and the selfsame thing, dear imp.
MOTH
No, no, O Lord, sir, no.
ARMADO
How canst part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?
MOTH
By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signior.
ARMADO
Why tough signior? Why tough signior?
MOTH
Why tender juvenal? Why tender juvenal?
ARMADO
I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to young days, which we may nominate tender.
MOTH
And I, tough signior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough.
ARMADO
Pretty and apt.
MOTH
How mean you, sir? I pretty and my saying apt, or I apt, and my saying pretty?
ARMADO
pretty, because little.
MOTH
Little pretty, because little. apt?
ARMADO
And therefore apt, because quick.
MOTH
Speak you this in my praise, master?
ARMADO
In condign praise.
MOTH
I will praise an eel with the same praise.
ARMADO
What, that an eel is ingenious?
MOTH
That an eel is quick.
ARMADO
I do say art quick in answers. heat’st my blood.
MOTH
I am answered, sir.
ARMADO
I love not to be crossed.
MOTH
He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him.
ARMADO
I have promised to study three years with the Duke.
MOTH
You may do it in an hour, sir.
ARMADO
Impossible.
MOTH
How many is one thrice told?
ARMADO
I am ill at reckoning. It fitteth the spirit of a tapster.
MOTH
You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.
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.
ARMADO
It amount to one more than two.
MOTH
Which the base vulgar do call three.
ARMADO
True.
MOTH
Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here’s three studied 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.
ARMADO
A most fine figure!
MOTH
To prove you a cipher.
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 . If drawing my sword against the 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 curtsy. I think scorn to sigh; I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love?
MOTH
Hercules, master.
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.
ARMADO
O well-knit Samson, strong-jointed Samson! I do excel in my rapier as much as me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson’s love, my dear Moth?
MOTH
A woman, master.
ARMADO
Of what complexion?
MOTH
Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.
ARMADO
Tell me precisely of what complexion.
MOTH
Of the sea-water green, sir.
ARMADO
Is that one of the four complexions?
MOTH
As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.
ARMADO
Green indeed is the colour of lovers. But to have a love of that colour, Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit.
MOTH
It was so, sir, for she had a green wit.
ARMADO
My love is most immaculate white and red.
MOTH
Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.
ARMADO
Define, define, well-educated infant.
MOTH
My father’s wit and 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 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 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 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 , 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
To be whipped: 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 .
ARMADO
I say, sing.
MOTH
Forbear till this company be past.
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 he must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park. She is allowed for the dey-woman. Fare you well.
ARMADO
I do betray myself with blushing.—Maid.
JAQUENETTA
Man.
ARMADO
I will visit at the lodge.
JAQUENETTA
That’s hereby.
ARMADO
I know where it is situate.
JAQUENETTA
Lord, how wise you are!
ARMADO
I will tell wonders.
JAQUENETTA
With that face?
ARMADO
I love .
JAQUENETTA
So I heard you say.
ARMADO
And so, farewell.
JAQUENETTA
Fair weather after you!
DULL
Come, Jaquenetta, away.
ARMADO
Villain, fast for offences be pardoned.
COSTARD
Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full stomach.
ARMADO
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. 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.
ARMADO
I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, 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.