Brag. Tell me precisely of what complexion? Boy. Of the sea-water Greene sir
Brag. Is that one of the foure complexions? Boy. As I haue read sir, and the best of them too
Brag. Greene indeed is the colour of Louers: but to haue a Loue of that colour, methinkes Sampson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit
Boy. It was so sir, for she had a greene wit
Brag. My Loue is most immaculate white and red
Boy. Most immaculate thoughts Master, are mask'd vnder such colours
Brag. Define, define, well educated infant
Boy. My fathers witte, and my mothers tongue assist mee
Brag. Sweet inuocation of a childe, most pretty and patheticall
Boy. If shee be made of white and red, Her faults will nere be knowne: For blushin cheekes by faults are bred, And feares by pale white showne: Then if she feare, or be to blame, By this you shall not know, For still her cheekes possesse the same, Which natiue she doth owe: A dangerous rime master against the reason of white and redde
Brag. Is there not a ballet Boy, of the King and the Begger? Boy. The world was very guilty of such a Ballet some three ages since, but I thinke now 'tis not to be found: or if it were, it would neither serue for the writing, nor the tune
Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I may example my digression by some mighty president. Boy, I doe loue that Countrey girle that I tooke in the Parke with the rationall hinde Costard: she deserues well
Boy. To bee whip'd: and yet a better loue then my Master
Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in loue
Boy. And that's great maruell, louing a light wench
Brag. I say sing
Boy. Forbeare till this company be past. Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.
Const. Sir, the Dukes pleasure, is that you keepe Costard safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance, but hee must fast three daies a weeke: for this Damsell, I must keepe her at the Parke, shee is alowd for the Day-woman. Fare you well. Enter.
Brag. I do betray my selfe with blushing: Maide
Brag. I wil visit thee at the Lodge
Maid. That's here by
Brag. I know where it is situate
Mai. Lord how wise you are! Brag. I will tell thee wonders
Ma. With what face? Brag. I loue thee
Mai. So I heard you say
Brag. And so farewell
Mai. Faire weather after you
Clo. Come Iaquenetta, away.
Brag. Villaine, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned
Clo. Well sir, I hope when I doe it, I shall doe it on a full stomacke
Brag. Thou shalt be heauily punished
Clo. I am more bound to you then your fellowes, for they are but lightly rewarded
Clo. Take away this villaine, shut him vp
Boy. Come you transgressing slaue, away
Clow. Let mee not bee pent vp sir, I will fast being loose
Boy. No sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison
Clow. Well, if euer I do see the merry dayes of desolation that I haue seene, some shall see
Boy. What shall some see? Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing: I thanke God, I haue as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet. Enter.
Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base) where her shooe (which is baser) guided by her foote (which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falshood) if I loue. And how can that be true loue, which is falsly attempted? Loue is a familiar, Loue is a Diuell. There is no euill Angell but Loue, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent strength: Yet was Salomon so seduced, and hee had a very good witte. Cupids Butshaft is too hard for Hercules Clubbe, and therefore too much ods for a Spaniards Rapier: The first and second cause will not serue my turne: the Passado hee respects not, the Duello he regards not; his disgrace is to be called Boy, but his glorie is to subdue men. Adue Valour, rust Rapier, bee still Drum, for your manager is in loue; yea hee loueth. Assist me some extemporall god of Rime, for I am sure I shall turne Sonnet. Deuise Wit, write Pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.
Finis Actus Primus.