And therefore is the born to make black fair. Dum. To look like her are Chimney-Sweepers black? Long. And fince her time, are Colliers counted bright? King. And Ethiops of their sweet Complexion crack? Dum. Dark needs no Candles now, for Dark is Light. Biron. Your Mistresses dare never come in Rain, For fear their Colours fhould be wafht away. King. Twere good yours did: for, Sir, to tell you plain, I'll find a fairer Face not washt to Day. Biron. I'll prove her fair, or talk 'till Dooms-day here. King. No Devil will fright thee then fo much as fhe. Dum. I never knew Man hold vile Stuff fo dear. Long. Look, here's thy Love, my Foot and her Face fee. Biron. O if the Streets were paved with thine Eyes, Her Feet were much too dainty for fuch Tread. Dum. O'vile, then as she goes, what upward lyes? The Street should fee as the walk'd over head. King. But what of this, are we not all in Love? Dum. Ay marry there, fome Flattery for this Evil. Some Tricks, fome Quillets, how to cheat the Devil. Biron. O'tis more than need. Have at you then Affections, Men at Arms, And where that you have vow'd to study (Lords) Without Without the Beauty of a Woman's Face; The nimble Spirits in the Arteries; Still climing Trees in the Hefperides. Subtle as a Sphinx, as sweet and mufical Never durft Poet touch a Pen to write, For Charity it felf fullfils the Law; And who can fever Love from Charity? King, Saint Cupid then, and Soldiers to the Field. Biron. Advance your Standards, and upon them, Lords; Pell, mell, down with them: But be firft advis'd, In Conflict that you get the Sun of them. Long. Now to Plain-dealing, lay these Gloffes by, Shall we refolve to woo thefe Girls of France. King. And win them too; therefore let us devife Some Entertainment for them at their Tents. Biron. First from the Park let us condu&t them thither, We will with some strange Pastime folace them, Biron Biron. Alone, alone fowed Cockel, reap'd no Corn, Light Wenches may prove Plagues to Men forfworn, [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel and Dull. Hol. Nath, I praife God for you, Sir, your Reasons at Dinner have been sharp and fententious; pleafant without Scurrility, witty without Affectation, audacious without Impudency, learned without Opinion, and strange without Herefie: I did converfe this quondam-Day with a Companion of the King's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado. Hol. Novi hominem tanquem te. His Humour is lofty, his Difcourfe peremptory, his Tongue filed, his Eye ambitious, his Gate majeftical, and his general Behaviour vain, ridiculous,and Thrafonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A moft fingular and choice Epithet. [Draws out his Table-Book Hol. He draweth out the Thred of his Verbofity finer than the Staple of his Argument. I abhor fuch phanatical Phantafms, fuch infociable and point devife Companions, fuch Rackers of Orthography,as do fpeak dout fine, when he should fay doubt; det, when he fhould pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not det: He clepe h a Calf, Cauf: half, hauf: Neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abreviated ne: This is abominable, which we would call abominable: It infinuareth me of Infamy: Ne intelligis Domine, to make Frantick, Lunatick. Nath. Laus deo, bene intelligo. Hol. Bome boon for boon prefcian; a little fearch, 'twill ferve. Enter Enter Armado, Moth and Coftard. Nath. Vides-ne quis nevit?" Hol. Video, & gaudeo. Arm. Chirra. Hol. Quare Chirra, not Sirra? Arm. Men of Peace well incountred. Hol. Moft Military Sir, Salutation. Moth. They have been at a great Feast of Languages, and ftole the Scraps. Coft. Othey have liv'd long on the Alms-basket of Words. I marvel thy Mafter hath not eaten thee for a Word, for thou art not fo long by the Head as Honorificabilitudinitatibus: Thou art eafier fwallow'd than a Flap-dragon. Moth. Peace, the Peal begins. Arm. Monfieur, are you not lettered? Moth. Yes, yes, he teaches Boys the Horn-book: What is Ab fpelt backward with the Horn on his Head? Hol. Ba, pueritia with a Horn added. Moth. Ba, moft filly Sheep, with a Horn. You hear his Learning. Hol. Quis, quis, thou Confonant? Moth. The laft of the five Vowels, if you repeat them, or the fifth if I. Hol. I will repeat them, a e I Moth. The Sheep; the other two concludes it oụ. Arm. Now by the falt Wave of the Mediteraneum, a sweet Tutch, a quick Venew of Wit; fnip fnap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my Intellect; true Wit. Moth. Offer'd by a Child to an old Man: which is Witold. Hol. What is the Figure? What is the Figure? Moth. Horns. Hol. Thou difputeft like an Infant; go, whip thy Gigg. Moth. Lend me your Horn to make one, and I will whip about your Infamy unum cita, a Gigg of a Cuckold's Horn. Coft. And I had but one Penny in the World, thou shouldst have it to buy Ginger-bread; Hold, there is the very Remu neration I had of thy Mafter, thou Half-penny Purfe of Wit, thou Pidgeon-egg of Difcretion. O, and the Heav'ns were fo pleafed, that thou wert but my Baftard! What a joyful Fa Ff 2 ther |