Moth. No Mafter, the Hobby-horfe is but a Colt, and your Love perhaps a Hackney : But have you forgot your Love? Arm. Almoft I had. Moth. Negligent Student, learn her by heart. Arm. By heart, and in heart, Boy. Moth. And out of Heart, Mafter: All thofe three I will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? Moth. A Man, if I live (and this) by, in, and without, upon the Inftant: In Heart you love her, becaufe your Heart is in love with her; and out of Heart you love her, being out of Heart that you cannot enjoy her. Arm. I am all these three. Moth. And three Times as much more; and yet nothing at all. ter. Arm. Fetch hither the Swain, he muft carry me a Let Moth. A Meffage well fimpathiz'd; a Horfe to be Embaffador for an Afs. Arm. Ha, ha; what fay'ft thou? Moth. Marry Sir, you muft fend the Afs upon the Horse, for he is very flow gated: But I go. Arm. The way is but fhort; away. Moth. As fwife as Lead, Sir. Arm. Thy Meaning, pretty Ingenious? is not Lead a Metal heavy, dull and flow? Moth. Minime honeft Mafter, or rather Mafter no. Moth. You are too swift Sir, to say so. Is that Lead flow, Sir, which is fir'd from a Gun? He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he: Moth. Thump then, and I fly. [Exit. Arm. A moft accute Juvenal, voluble and free of Grace; By thy Favour, fweet Welkin, I must figh in thy Face. Moft rude Melancholly, Valour gives the Place. My Herald is return'd. Enter Enter Moth and Coftard. Moth. A Wonder, Mafter, here's a Coftard broken in a Shin. Arm. Some Enigma, fome Riddle, no Lenvoy, begin. Coft. No Egma, no Riddle, no Lenvoy, no Salve, in the Male, Sir. O Sir, Plantan, a plain Plantan; no Lenvoy, no Lenvoy, or Salve, Sir, but Plantan. Arm. By Vertue thou inforceft Laughter, thy filly Thought, my Spleen, the heaving of my Lungs provokes me to ridiculous Smiling: O pardon me my Stars, doth the inconfiderate take Salve for Lenvoy, and the word Lenvoy for a Salve? Moth. Do the Wife think them other, is not Lenvoy a Now will I begin your Moral, and do you follow with my The Fox, the Ape, and the Humble-bee, Were ftill at odds, being but three. Moth. Until the Goose came out of Door, A good Lenvoy, ending in the Goofe; would you defire more? Coft. The Boy hath fold him a Bargain, a Goose that's flat, Arm. Come hither, come hither; How did this Argument begin? Moth. By faying that a Coftard was broken in a Shin. Then call'd you for a Lenvoy. Coft. True, and I for a Plantan ; Thus came your Argument in ; Then the Boys fat Lenvoy, the Goofe that you bought. Arm. But tell me; how was there a Coftard broken in a Moth. I will tell you fenfibly. Coft. Thou haft no feeling of it, Moth, I will fpeak that Lenvoy. I F Ι I Coftard running out, that was fafely within, Arm. We will talk no more of this Matter. Coft. O, Marry me to one Francis, I smell fome Lenvoj, fome Goose in this. Arm. By my fweet Soul, I mean fetting thee at Liberty. Enfreedoming thy Perfon; thou wert immur'd, reftrained, captivated, bound. Coft. True, true, and now you will be my Purgation, and let me loofe. Arm. I give thee thy Liberty, fet thee from durance, and in lieu thereof, impofe on thee nothing but this; bear this fignificant to the Country-Maid Jaquenetta; there is Remuneration, for the beft ward of mine Honours is rewarding my Dependants. Moth, follow. Moth. Like the Sequel I. Signior Coftard adieu. [Exit. Coft. My fweet Ounce of Man's Flesh, my in-cony Jew: Now will I look to his Remuneration. Remuneration, O, that's the Latin Word for three Farthings: Three Farthings Remuneration, What's the Price of this Incle? five Farthings. No, I'll give you a Remuneration: Why? It carries its Remuneration: Why? It is a fairer Name than a French-Crown. I will never buy and fell out of this Word. Enter Biron. Biron. O my good Knave Coftard, exceedingly well met. Coft. Pray you Sir, how much Carnation Ribbon may a Man buy for a Remuneration ? Biron. What is a Remuneration? Coft. Marry Sir, half-penny Farthing. Biron. O, why then three Farthings worth of Silk. Coft. When would you have it done, Sir? Coft. Well, I will do it Sir: Fare you well. Biron. O thou knoweft not what it is. Coft. I thall know, Sir, when I have done it. Hark Slave, it is but this: The Princefs comes to hunt here in the Park: When Tongues fpeak fweetly, then they name her Name, And to her white Hand fee thou do commend This feal'd up Counsel. There's thy Guerdon; go. Coft. Guerdon, O fweet Guerdon, better than Remuneration, eleven Pence Farthing better: Moft fweet Guerdon. I will do it, Sir, in Print: Guerdon, Remuneration. Biron. O! and I forfooth in Love, I that have been Love's Whip; A very Beadle to a humorous Sigh: A Critick; A domineering Pedant o'er the Boy, Than whom no Mortal more magnificent. This whimpled, whining, purblind wayward Boy, And wear his Colours like a Tumbler's Hoop: 1 [Exit. Ay, Ay, and by Heav'n, one that will do the Deed, Well, I will love, write, figh, pray, fue and groan, [Exit. I. Enter the Princess, Rofaline, Maria, Catherine, Lords, Prin.WA A S that the King that fpur'd his Horfe fo hard Boyet. I know not, but I think it was not he. Prin. Who e'er he was, he fhew'd a mounting Mind. Prin. What, what? First praife me, then again fay no. Prin. Nay, never paint me now, Where Fair is not, Praise cannot mend the Brow. A giving Hand, though foul, fhall have the Praife. But |