Warble, child, make passionate my sense of hearing.

Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years, take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither. I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?

How meanest thou? Brawling in French?

No, my complete master; but to jig off a tune at the tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love, sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the shop of your eyes, with your arms crossed on your thin-belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away. These are compliments, these are humours; these betray nice wenches that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note—do you note me?—that most are affected to these.

How hast thou purchased this experience?

By my penny of observation.

But O—but O—

“The hobby-horse is forgot.”

Call’st thou my love “hobby-horse”?

No, master. The hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love?

Almost I had.

Negligent student! Learn her by heart.

By heart and in heart, boy.

And out of heart, master. All those three I will prove.

What wilt thou prove?

A man, if I live; and this, “by, in, and without,” upon the instant: “by” heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by her; “in” heart you love her, because your heart is in love with her; and “out” of heart you love her, being out of heart that you cannot enjoy her.

I am all these three.

And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.

Fetch hither the swain. He must carry me a letter.

A message well sympathized: a horse to be ambassador for an ass.

Ha, ha, what sayest thou?

Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.

The way is but short. Away!

As swift as lead, sir.

Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.

I say lead is slow.

Thump then, and I flee.

A wonder, master! Here’s a costard broken in a shin.

Some enigma, some riddle. Come, thy l’envoi begin.

No egma, no riddle, no l’envoi, no salve in the mail, sir. O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! No l’envoi, no l’envoi, no salve, sir, but a plantain.

By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l’envoi, and the word l’envoi for a salve?

Do the wise think them other? Is not l’envoi a salve?

I will add the l’envoi. Say the moral again.

A good l’envoi, ending in the goose. Would you desire more?

Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?

True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your argument in. Then the boy’s fat l’envoi, the goose that you bought; and he ended the market.

But tell me, how was there a costard broken in a shin?

I will tell you sensibly.

We will talk no more of this matter.

Till there be more matter in the shin.

Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.

O, marry me to one Frances! I smell some l’envoi, some goose, in this.

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

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

I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance, and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: [Giving him a letter.] bear this significant to the country maid Jaquenetta. [Giving money.] There is remuneration for the best ward of mine honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.

Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.

My good knave Costard, exceedingly well met.

Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

What is a remuneration?

Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.

Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk.

I thank your worship. God be wi’ you.

When would you have it done, sir?

This afternoon.

Well, I will do it, sir. Fare you well.

Thou knowest not what it is.

I shall know, sir, when I have done it.

Why, villain, thou must know first.

I will come to your worship tomorrow morning.

Gardon, O sweet gardon! Better than remuneration, a ’levenpence farthing better. Most sweet gardon! I will do it, sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration!