_Arm._ How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal? _Moth._ By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. 10 _Arm._ Why tough senior? why tough senior? _Moth._ Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? _Arm._ I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. 15 _Moth._ And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. _Arm._ Pretty and apt. _Moth._ How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty? 20 _Arm._ Thou pretty, because little. _Moth._ Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? _Arm._ And therefore apt, because quick. _Moth._ Speak you this in my praise, master? _Arm._ In thy condign praise. 25 _Moth._ I will praise an eel with the same praise. _Arm._ What, that an eel is ingenious? _Moth._ That an eel is quick. _Arm._ I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood. 30 _Moth._ I am answered, sir. _Arm._ I love not to be crossed. _Moth._ [_Aside_] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him. _Arm._ I have promised to study three years with the 35 Duke. _Moth._ You may do it in an hour, sir. _Arm._ Impossible. _Moth._ How many is one thrice told? _Arm._ I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a 40 tapster. _Moth._ You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. _Arm._ I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man. _Moth._ Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross 45 sum of deuce-ace amounts to. _Arm._ It doth amount to one more than two. _Moth._ Which the base vulgar do call three. _Arm._ True. _Moth._ Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now 50 here is three studied, ere ye’ll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you. _Arm._ A most fine figure! _Moth._ To prove you a cipher. 55 _Arm._ I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French 60 courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love? _Moth._ Hercules, master. _Arm._ Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear 65 boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.