Brag. I will heereupon confesse I am in loue: and as it is base for a Souldier to loue; so am I in loue with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection, would deliuer mee from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransome him to any French Courtier for a new deuis'd curtsie. I thinke scorne to sigh, me thinkes I should out-sweare Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men haue beene in loue? Boy. Hercules Master Brag. Most sweete Hercules: more authority deare Boy, name more; and sweet my childe let them be men of good repute and carriage Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage, great carriage: for hee carried the Towne-gates on his backe like a Porter: and he was in loue Brag. O well-knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson; I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst mee in carrying gates. I am in loue too. Who was Sampsons loue my deare Moth? Boy. A Woman, Master Brag. Of what complexion? Boy. Of all the foure, or the three, or the two, or one of the foure 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.