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[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH]
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Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.
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Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years; take this key,
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give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately
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hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love.
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Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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How meanest thou? brawling in French?
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No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at
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the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour
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it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and
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sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you
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swallowed love with singing love, sometime through
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the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling
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love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of
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your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly
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doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in
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your pocket like a man after the old painting; and
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keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away.
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These are complements, these are humours; these
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betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without
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these; and make them men of note—do you note
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me?—that most are affected to these.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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How hast thou purchased this experience?
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By my penny of observation.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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'The hobby-horse is forgot.'
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Callest thou my love 'hobby-horse'?
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No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your
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love perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love?
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Negligent student! learn her by heart.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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By heart and in heart, boy.
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And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon
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the instant: by heart you love her, because your
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heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her,
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because your heart is in love with her; and out of
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heart you love her, being out of heart that you
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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And three times as much more, and yet nothing at
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Fetch hither the swain: he must carry me a letter.
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A message well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Ha, ha! what sayest thou?
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Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse,
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for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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The way is but short: away!
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As swift as lead, sir.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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The meaning, pretty ingenious?
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Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
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Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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You are too swift, sir, to say so:
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Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
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He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:
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I shoot thee at the swain.
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Thump then and I flee.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace!
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By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:
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Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
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My herald is return'd.
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[Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD]
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A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l'envoy; begin.
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No enigma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the
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mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! no
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l'envoy, no l'envoy; no salve, sir, but a plantain!
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly
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thought my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes
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me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars!
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Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and
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the word l'envoy for a salve?
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Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
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Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
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The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
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Were still at odds, being but three.
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There's the moral. Now the l'envoy.
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I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
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Were still at odds, being but three.
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Until the goose came out of door,
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And stay'd the odds by adding four.
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Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with
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The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
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Were still at odds, being but three.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Until the goose came out of door,
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Staying the odds by adding four.
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A good l'envoy, ending in the goose: would you
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The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat.
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Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
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To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose:
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Let me see; a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?
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By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
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Then call'd you for the l'envoy.
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True, and I for a plantain: thus came your
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Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;
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And he ended the market.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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But tell me; how was there a costard broken in a shin?
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I will tell you sensibly.
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Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak that l'envoy:
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I Costard, running out, that was safely within,
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Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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We will talk no more of this matter.
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Till there be more matter in the shin.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
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O, marry me to one Frances: I smell some l'envoy,
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty,
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enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured,
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restrained, captivated, bound.
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True, true; and now you will be my purgation and let me loose.
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Don Adriano de Armado.
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I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and,
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in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:
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bear this significant
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to the country maid Jaquenetta:
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there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine
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honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.
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Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
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My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew!
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Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration!
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O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three
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farthings—remuneration.—'What's the price of this
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inkle?'—'One penny.'—'No, I'll give you a
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remuneration:' why, it carries it. Remuneration!
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why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will
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never buy and sell out of this word.
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O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met.
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Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man
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buy for a remuneration?
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What is a remuneration?
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Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
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Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk.
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I thank your worship: God be wi' you!
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Stay, slave; I must employ thee:
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As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
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Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
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When would you have it done, sir?
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Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well.
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Thou knowest not what it is.
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I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
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Why, villain, thou must know first.
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I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.
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It must be done this afternoon.
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Hark, slave, it is but this:
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The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
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And in her train there is a gentle lady;
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When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
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And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
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And to her white hand see thou do commend
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This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
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[Giving him a shilling]
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Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration,
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a'leven-pence farthing better: most sweet gardon! I
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will do it sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration!
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And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;
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A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
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A critic, nay, a night-watch constable;
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A domineering pedant o'er the boy;
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Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
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This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
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This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
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Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
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The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
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Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
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Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
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Sole imperator and great general
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Of trotting 'paritors:—O my little heart:—
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And I to be a corporal of his field,
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And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
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What, I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
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A woman, that is like a German clock,
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Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
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And never going aright, being a watch,
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But being watch'd that it may still go right!
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Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all;
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And, among three, to love the worst of all;
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A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,
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With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
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Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
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Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
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And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
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To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
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That Cupid will impose for my neglect
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Of his almighty dreadful little might.
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Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
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Some men must love my lady and some Joan.
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