ARMADO.
Ha, ha, what sayest thou?
MOTH.
Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
ARMADO.
The way is but short. Away!
MOTH.
As swift as lead, sir.
ARMADO.
The meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
MOTH.
Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.
ARMADO.
I say lead is slow.
MOTH.
You are too swift, sir, to say so.
Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
ARMADO.
Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that’s he.
I shoot thee at the swain.
MOTH.
Thump then, and I flee.