Ros. Ay, our way to be gone.
Boyet. You are too hard for me. 256
ACT THIRD
Scene One
[The King of Navarre's Park]
Enter Braggart [Armado] and his Boy [Moth].
Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my
sense of hearing.
Moth. [Singing.] Concolinel,—
Arm. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years; 4
take this key, give enlargement to the swain,
bring him festinately hither; I must employ him
in a letter to my love.
Moth. Master, will you win your love with a 8
French brawl?
Arm. How meanest thou? brawling in
French?
Moth. No, my complete master; but to jig off 12
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 by singing 16
love, sometime through [the] nose, as if you snuffed
up love by smelling love; with your hat pent-
house-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your
arms crossed on your thin belly-doublet like a 20
3 Concolinel; cf. n.
6 festinately: quickly
9 brawl: dance; cf. n.
13 canary: dance; cf. n.
18 penthouse-like: porch-like
