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Biron. This cannot be Hector.
Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces,
Arm.. The armipotent Mars, of lances* the al.

mighty, Gave Hector a gift.

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Dum. No, cloven,

Arm. Peace.
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,

Gade Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion ;
A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight,

yea
From morn till night, out of his puvilion.
I am that flower,
Dum.

That mipt.
Long.

That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Ilector. Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried : when be breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, (to the Princess.] bestow on me the sense of bearing.

[Biron whispers Costard. Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much de.

lighted. Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper, Boyet. Loves her by the foot. Dum. He may not by the yard. Arm, This Hector far surmounted Hannibal, Cost. The party is gone, fellow llector, slie is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?
Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan,

* Lance-men.

the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours. Arm. Dost thou ipfamovise me among poten.

tates? thou shalt die. Cost. Then shall Flector be whipp'd, for Jaque. netta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompes that is dead by liim.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the liuge!

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is mov'd :-More Ates*, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on !

Dum. Héctor will challenge him.

Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood iu's belly than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the nortlı pole, I do challenge thee.

Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern mant; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword:-) pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.
Dum. Most resolute Pompey!

Moth. Master, let me take you a button hole lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation.

Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me: I will pot combat in any shirt.

Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the challenge.

Arm. Sweet bloods, 1 both may and will.
Biron. What reason have you for't?

Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolwardt for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome

+ A clown.

* Até was the goddess of discord. I Clothed in wool, without linen. VOL. II.

NE

242

for want of linen : since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour.

Enter Mercade.

Mer. God save you, madam!

Prin. Wecome, Mercade;
But that thou interrupt’st our merriment,

Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring,
Is heavy in iny tongue. The king your father-

Prin. Dead, for my life.
Mer. Even so; my tale is told.

Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud.

Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.

[E.reunt Worthies.

King. How fares your majesty ?
Prin. Boyet, prepare;

I will away to-night.
King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.

Prin. Prepare, I say.- I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide,
The liberal* opposition of our spirits :
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath, your gentleness
Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord!
A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue:
Excuse ine sn, coming so short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtaiv'd.

King. The extreme parts of time extremely form All causes to the purpose of his speed; And often, at his very loose, decides That which long process could not arbitrate: And though the mourning brow of progeny

# Free to excess.

Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,
The holy suit which fain it would convince ;
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let pot the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,
As to rejoice at friends but newly fouud.

Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are double.
Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of

grief;-
And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-
As love is full of unbefitting strains ;
All wapton as a child, skipping, and vain ;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance :
Which party.coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom’d our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,

aggested* us to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin
Thus purifies itself, aod turns to grace.

Prin. We have receiv'd your letters full of love;
Your favours the embassadors of love;
And, in our naiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time:

• Tempted,

214

But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more

than jest.
Long. So did our looks.
Ros.

We did not quote* them s0.
King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
Prin.

A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in:
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore this.--
If for my love (as there is no such cause)
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their aupual reckoning;
If this austere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weedst,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love:
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine ; and till that instaut, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation,
For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.
King. If this, or more than this, I would deny,

To flatter up these powers of mine with resto
The suddeu hand of death close up mine eye!

Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.

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