PRIN. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
KING. Upon mine honour, no.

PRIN.

Peace, peace, forbear; Your oath once broke, you force not a to forswear. KING. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine. PRIN. I will: and therefore keep it :-Rosaline,

What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
Ros. Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eye-sight: and did value me
Above this world: adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me, or else die my lover.
PRIN. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord
Most honourably doth uphold his word.

KING. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth,
I never swore this lady such an oath.

Ros. By heaven you did; and to confirm it plain,
You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.
KING. My faith, and this, the princess I did give;
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
PRIN. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;

And lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear :-
What; will you have me, or your pearl again?
BIRON. Neither of either; I remit both twain.
I see the trick on 't :-Here was a consent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment,)
To dash it like a Christmas comedy:

Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,—
That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,-
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change favours; and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn: in will, and error.
Much upon this it is :—And might not you,
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?

[To BOYET.

• Force not hesitate not.

In years. Malone reads in jeers. We have, in 'Twelfth Night,' "He doth smile his cheek into more lines than are in the new map." The character which Biron gives of Boyet is not that of a jeerer; he is a carry-tale-a please-man. The in years is supposed by Warburton to mean into wrinkles. Tieck ingeniously gives an explanation to the supposed wrinkles: Boyet is neither young nor old; but he has smiled so continually that his cheek, which, in respect of his years, would have been smooth, has become wrinkled through too much smiling.

Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire",
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?

You put our page out: Go, you are allow'd b;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.

You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

BOYET.

Full merrily

Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. BIRON. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done.

Enter COSTARD.

Welcome pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.

COST. O Lord, sir, they would know,

Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no.

BIRON. What, are there but three ?
COST.

For every one pursents three.
BIRON.

No, sir; but it is vara fine,

And three times thrice is nine.

COST. Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope, it is not so:

You cannot beg us 30, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know; I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,—

BIRON.

Is not nine.

COST. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.

BIRON. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.

COST. O Lord, sir, it were a pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir. BIRON. How much is it?

COST. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man, in one poor man; Pompion the great, sir.

BIRON. Art thou one of the worthies?

COST. It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy; but I am to stand for him. BIRON. Go, bid them prepare.

COST. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care.
KING. Biron, they will shame us, let them not approach.
BIRON. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 't is some policy

To have one show worse than the king's and his company.
KING. I say, they shall not come.

PRIN. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you now:
That sport best pleases that doth least know how:

• The squire-esquierre, a rule, or square.

Allow'd-you are an allowed fool. As in 'Twelfth Night'"There is no slander in an allow'd fool."

[Exit COSTARD.

Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Die in the zeal, of that which it presents

The form confounded makes most form in mirth a;
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
BIRON. A right description of our sport, my lord.

Enter ARMADO.

ARM. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

[ARMADO converses with the KING, and delivers him a paper.

PRIN. Doth this man serve God?

BIRON. Why ask you?

PRIN. He speaks not like a man of God's making.

ARM. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch: for, I protest the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain; But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement ! [Exit ARMADO. KING. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Machabæus.

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive,

These four will change habits, and present the other five.

BIRON. There is five in the first show.

KING. You are deceiv'd, 't is not so.

BIRON. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and the boy :

Abate a throw at novum ; and the whole world again
Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein.

KING. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain

* The ordinary reading of these lines is thus:—

"Where zeal strives to content, and the contents

Die in the zeal of them which it presents,

Their form confounded makes most form in mirth."

With an alteration of punctuation we print these lines as in the original; altering their of the third line to the. We do not alter that to them, as is usually done. We understand the reading thus:Where zeal strives to give content, and the contents (things contained) die in the zeal, the form of that which zeal presents, being confounded, makes most form in mirth.

Abate a throw. Novum, or quinquenove, was a game at dice, of which nine and five were the principal throws. Biron therefore says, Abate a throw-that is, leave out the nine-and the world cannot prick out five such. • Libbard-leopard.

BIRON. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee.
COST. "I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,"—

DUM. The great.

COST. It is great, sir;-" Pompey surnam'd the great;

That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat:
And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance;
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France."
If your ladyship would say, "Thanks, Pompey," I had done.
PRIN. Great thanks, great Pompey.

COST. "T is not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect:
I made a little fault in "great."

BIRON. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy.

Enter NATHANIEL, armed, for Alexander.

NATH. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might:
My 'scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander."

BOYET. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right.
BIRON. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender-smelling knight.
PRIN. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, good Alexander.

NATH. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander ;"-
BOYET. Most true, 't is right; you were so, Alisander.

BIRON. Pompey the great,

COST.

Your servant, and Costard.

BIRON. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.

COST. O, sir, [to NATH.], you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-ax sitting on a close stool, will be given to A-jax: he will be the ninth worthy a. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires.] There, an 't shall please you; a foolish mild man; au honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, in sooth; and a very good bowler 32: but, for Alisander, alas, you see how 't is; a little o'erparted:-But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

PRIN. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter HOLOFERNES for Judas, and MOTH for Hercules.

HOL. "Great Hercules is presented by this imp,

Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus;

And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus:

• Alexander had his arms in the old heraldry-a lion in a chair, with a battle-axe.
O'erparted-overparted, not quite equal to his part.

Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;

Ergo, I come with this apology."-
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.

66

Judas, I am,"

DUM. A Judas!

HOL. Not, Iscariot, sir,

"Judas, I am, ycleped Machabæus."

DUM. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas.

BIRON. A kissing traitor:-How art thou prov'd Judas?

HOL. What mean you, sir?
BOYET. To make Judas hang himself.

HOL. Begin, sir; you are my elder.

BIRON. Well followed: Judas was hang'd on an elder ".
HOL. I will not be put out of countenance.

BIRON. Because thou hast no face.

HOL. What is this?

BOYET. A cittern-head".

DUM. The head of a bodkin.

BIRON. A death's face in a ring.

LONG. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.

BOYET. The pummel of Cæsar's falchion.

DUM. The carv'd-bone face on a flask c.

BIRON. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.

DUM. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

BIRON. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer.

And now, forward; for we have put thee in countenance.

HOL. You have put me out of countenance.

BIRON. False: we have given thee faces.

HOL. But you have out-fac'd them all.

BIRON. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.

BOYET. Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.

And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?

DUM. For the latter end of his name.

BIRON. For the ass to the Jude; give it him:- Jud-as,

away!

[Exit MOTH.

HOL. This is not generous; not gentle; not humble.

BOYET. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark, he may stumble.

PRIN. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been baited!

• The common tradition was that Judas hanged himself on an elder-tree. Thus in Ben Jonson's 'Every Man out of his Humour,' “He shall be your Judas, and you shall be his elder-tree to hang on."

b A cittern-head. It appears, from several passages in the old dramas, that the head of a cittern, gittern, or guitar, was terminated with a face.

• Flask. A soldier's powder-horn, which was often elaborately carved.