ARM. Come hither, come hither; how did this argument begin?

MOTH. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.

Then called you for the l'envoy.

COST. True, and I for a plantain: thus came your argument in;

Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought.

And he ended the market.

ARM. But tell me; how was there a Costard broken in a shin?

MOTH. I will tell you sensibly.

COST. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that l'envoy.

I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,

Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

ARM. We will talk no more of this matter. COST. Till there be more matter in the shin. ARM. Marry, Costard, I will enfranchise thee. Cosr. O, marry me to one Frances;-I smell some l'envoy, some goose, in this.

ARM. By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at liberty, enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound.

COST. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me loose.

ARM. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this significant to the country maid

(*) Old editions, Sirrah Costard. "Marry, Costard," was, I believe, first suggested in Mr. Knight's "Stratford Shakspere."

COST. I thank your worship: God be wi' you!
BIRON. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

COST. When would you have it done, sir?
BIRON. O, this afternoon.

COST. Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well.
BIRON. O, thou knowest not what it is.
COST. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
BIRON. Why, villain, thou must know first.
COST. I will come to your worship to-morrow
morning.

A

BIRON. O! And I, forsooth, in love! I that have been love's whip;

very

beadle to a humorous sigh;
A critic; nay, a night-watch constable;
A domineering pedant o'er the boy ;
Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
This senior-junior,(+) giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid:
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded armus,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of cod-pieces,
Sole imperator, and great general

Of trotting paritors. O my little heart!-
And I to be a corporal of his field,
And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
What! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
A woman, that is like a German clock,* (5)
Still a-repairing; ever out of frame;
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right!
Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for

eyes;

(*) First folio, honours.

a My incony Jew!] Incony is defined to mean fine, delicate, pretty. It occurs occasionally in our old plays, and is repeated in the present one, Act IV. sc. 1. Of Jew, as a term of endearment, I remember no other example, except that in "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act III. Sc. 1, where Thisbe calls Pyramus "Most lovely Jew." (See note (b), p. 71.)

b Guerdon,-O sweet guerdon! better than remuneration,-] In reference to this passage, Farmer has pointed attention to a parallel one, which is given in a tract called "A Health to the Gentlemanly Profession of Serving-men," by J. M., 1598. "There was, sayth he, a man, (but of what estate, degree, or calling, I will not name, least thereby I might incurre displeasure of any,) that comming to his friend's house, who was a gentleman of good reckoning, and being there kindly entertayned and well used as well of his friende the gentleman, as of his servantes; one of the sayd servantes doing him some extraordinarie pleasure during his abode there, at his departure he comes unto the sayd servant and saith unto him, Holde thee, here is a remuneration for thy paynes; which the servant receyving, gave him utterly for it (besides his paynes) thankes, for it was but a three-farthing piece! and I holde thankes for the same a small price as the market goes. Now another comming to the sayd gentleman's house, it was the foresayd servant's good hap to be neare him at his going away, who, calling the servant unto him, sayd, Holde thee, heere is a guerdon

(*) Old editions, cloake.

for thy desartes. Now the servant payde no deerer for the guerdon than he did for the remuneration, though the guerdon was xj d. farthing better. for it was a shilling, and the other but a threefarthinges." The joke was probably older than either the play or the tract quoted.

e This wimpled,-] Hooded, veiled, blindfolded. "Justice herself there sitteth wimpled about the eyes," &c. Comedy of Midas, 1592.

d Of trotting paritors.] An apparitor is an officer of the spiritual court. As his duty, in former times, often consisted in summoning offenders against chastity, he is very properly described as under Cupid's command.

e A corporal of his field,-] A corporal of the field, according to some authorities, was an officer like an aide-de camp, whose employment was to convey instructions from head-quarters, or from the higher officers of the field.

f A whitely wanton-] The old editions have "A whilly wanton," which is, perhaps, a misprint for witty wanton. Whitely is not a suitable epithet to apply to a dark beauty. In Vicar's "Virgil," 1632, it is applied befittingly enough to the moon,

"Night-gadding Cynthia with her whitely face."

Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, Attendants, and a Forester.

PRIN. Was that the King, that spurr'd his horse so hard

Against the steep uprising of the hill?

BOYET. I know not; but, I think, it was not he. PRIN. Whoe'er he was, he show'd a mounting mind.

Well, lords, to-day we shall have our despatch;
On Saturday we will return to France.-
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
That we must stand and play the murtherer in?
FOR. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.

PRIN. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak'st, the fairest shoot. FOR. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. PRIN. What, what! first praise me, and * again say, no?

O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
FOR. Yes, madam, fair.
PRIN.
Nay, never paint me now;
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true;
[Giving him money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
FOR. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
PRIN. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.

But come, the bow :-now Mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do 't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,

(*) First folio, and then again.

O heresy in fair,-] Mr. Collier's old annotator suggests, "O heresy in faith," &c.; but this alteration would destroy the point of the allusion. Fair is used here, as in many other instances, for beauty; and the heresy is, that merit should be esteemed equivalent to beauty.

b Do not curst wives-] That is, sour, cross-grained, intractable wives. A very ancient sense of the word, and one in which it is repeatedly used by Shakespeare. Thus, in "Taming of the Shrew," Act L. Sc. 1:

That more for praise, than purpose, meant to kill.
And, out of question, so it is sometimes,
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes;
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart:
As I, for praise alone, now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood that my heart means no ill.
BOYET. Do not curst wives hold that self-
sovereignty

Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be

Lords o'er their lords?

PRIN. Only for praise: and praise we may afford To any lady that subdues a lord.

Enter COSTARD.

BOYET. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.

COST. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

PRIN. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

COST. Which is the greatest lady, the highest? PRIN. The thickest, and the tallest.

COST. The thickest, and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth.

An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.

Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.

PRIN. What's your will, sir? what's your will? COST. I have a letter from monsieur Biron, to

e God dig-you-den all!-] A vulgar corruption of God give you good even. It is sometimes contracted to God ye good den; as in "Romeo and Juliet," Act II. Sc. 4.

d Break up this capon.] A Gallicism. Poulet, with the French, meaning both a young fowl and a billet-doux, The Italians use