_Moth._ Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter: and he was in love. 70 _Arm._ O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson’s love, my dear Moth? _Moth._ A woman, master. 75 _Arm._ Of what complexion? _Moth._ Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. _Arm._ Tell me precisely of what complexion. _Moth._ Of the sea-water green, sir. 80 _Arm._ Is that one of the four complexions? _Moth._ As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. _Arm._ Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. 85 _Moth._ It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. _Arm._ My love is most immaculate white and red. _Moth._ Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours. _Arm._ Define, define, well-educated infant. 90 _Moth._ My father’s wit, and my mother’s tongue, assist me! _Arm._ Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical! _Moth._ If she be made of white and red, 95 Her faults will ne’er be known; For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by pale white shown: Then if she fear, or be to blame, By this you shall not know; 100 For still her cheeks possess the same Which native she doth owe. A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. _Arm._ Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the 105 Beggar? _Moth._ The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now ’tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune. 110 _Arm._ I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. _Moth._ [_Aside_] To be whipped; and yet a better love 115 than my master. _Arm._ Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. _Moth._ And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench. _Arm._ I say, sing. _Moth._ Forbear till this company be past. 120 _Enter_ DULL, COSTARD, _and_ JAQUENETTA. _Dull._ Sir, the duke’s pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but a’ must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. 125 _Arm._ I do betray myself with blushing. Maid. _Jaq._ Man. _Arm._ I will visit thee at the lodge.