Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

322 страница из 942

Arm. 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, humor it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throat, [as] if you swallow’d love with singing love, sometime through [the] nose, as if you snuff’d up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the shop of your eyes; with your arms cross’d on your thin[-bellied] 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 humors, these betray nice wenches that would be betray’d without these; and make them men of note—do you note?—men that most are affected to these.

Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Moth. By my [penny] of observation.

Arm. But O—but O—

Moth. “The hobby-horse is forgot.”

Arm. Call’st thou my love “hobby-horse”?

Moth. No, master, the hobby-horse is but a colt, [aside] and your love perhaps a hackney.—But have you forgot your love?