Act 3 - Scene 1

The same.

Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.

MOTH

Concolinel.

Singing

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

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.

MOTH

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

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

How meanest thou? brawling in French?

MOTH

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 complements, 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.

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

How hast thou purchased this experience?

MOTH

By my penny of observation.

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

But O, –but O, –

MOTH

'The hobby-horse is forgot.'

ADRIANO DE ARMADO

Callest thou my love 'hobby-horse'?