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SCENE I.- Another part of the Same. Enter HOLOFERNES, Sir NATHANIEL, and DULL. Hol. Satis quod sufficit.

Nath. I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem tanquam te: his humour is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too perigrinate, as I may call it. Nath. A most singular and choice epithet. [Draws out his table-book. Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasms, such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography, as to speak dout, fine, when he should say, doubt; det, when he should pronounce, debt-d, e, b, t, not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebur; neigh abbreviated ne. This is abhominable, (which he would call abominable,) it insinuateth me of insanie: ne intelligis domine? to make frantic, lunatic.

Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo.

Hol. Bone?-bone, for bene: Priscian a little scratch'd; 'twill serve.

Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD.

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Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd. Hol. Most military sir, salutation.

[TO MOTH.

Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.

Cost. O! they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace! the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur, [To HoL.] are you not letter'd? Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the horn-book.

What is a, b, spelt backward with the horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba! most silly sheep, with a horn.-You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

Moth. The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I.

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.

Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it; o, u. Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterranean, a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit! snip, snap, quick and home: it rejoiceth my intellect; true wit! Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.

gig.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circùm circà. A gig of a cuckhold's horn!

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou half-penny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O! an the heavens were so pleased, that thou wert but my bastard, what a joyful father wouldst thou make me. Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.

Hol. O! I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem. Arm. Arts-man, præambula: we will be singled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain? Hol. Or mons, the hill.

Arm. At your sweet pleasure for the mountain. Hol. I do, sans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion in the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon: the word is well cull'd, chose; sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir; I do assure.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend.-For what is inward between us, let it pass.-I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ;-I beseech thee, apparel thy head:-and among other important and most serious designs,-and of great import indeed,

too, but let that pass;-for I must tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal finger, thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass.The very all of all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secresy, that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antick, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.

Hol. Sir, you shall present before her the nine Worthies.-Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior

of this day, to be rendered by our assistance,-the king's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman,-before the princess, I say, none so fit as to present the nine Worthies.

Nath. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?

Hol. Joshua, yourself; myself, or this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabeus; this swain, (because of his great limb or joint,) shall pass Pompey the great; the page, Hercules.

Arm. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority: his enter and erit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry, "Well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake!" that is the way to

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make an offence gracious, though few have the play on the tabor to the Worthies, and let them grace to do it.

Arm. For the rest of the Worthies?

Hol. I will play three myself.

Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman!

Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?

Hol. We attend.

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dance the hay. Hol. Most dull, honest Dull. To our sport, away! [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Another part of the Same. Before the PRINCESS'S Pavilion.

Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and

MARIA.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in:

A lady wall'd about with diamonds!-
Look you, what I have from the loving king.

Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes; as much love in rhyme,

As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
Writ on both sides the leaf, margin and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.

Ros. That was the way to make his god-head

wax;

For he hath been five thousand years a boy.

Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him: a' kill'd your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might a' been a grandam ere she died; And so may you, for a light heart lives long.

Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?

Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark.

Ros. We need more light to find your meaning

out.

Kath. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore, I'll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i' the dark.

Kath. So do not you, for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you, and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not?-O! that's you care not for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, past cure is still past care. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too: Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros.
I would you knew:
An if my face were but as fair as your's,
My favour were as great: be witness this.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron.

The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
O! he hath drawn my picture in his letter.
Prin. Any thing like?

Ros. Much, in the letters, nothing in the praise.
Prin. Beauteous as ink: a good conclusion.
Kath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

Ros. 'Ware pencils! How? let me not die your
debtor,

My red dominical, my golden letter:
O that your face were not so full of O's!

Prin. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows! But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumaine?

Kath. Madam, this glove. Prin. Did he not send you twain? Kath. Yes, madam; and, moreover, Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:

A huge translation of hypocrisy,

Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.

O! that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes,
And shape his service wholly to my behests,
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So portent-like would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.

Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are

catch'd,

As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school,
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.

Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such

excess,

As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote; Since all the power thereof it doth apply, To prove by wit worth in simplicity.

Enter BOYET.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
Boyet. Q! I am stabb'd with laughter. Where's
her grace?
Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
Boyet.

Prepare, madam, prepare!
Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments: you'll be surpris'd.
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence,
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are
they,

That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour,
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily
I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That by and by disguis'd they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,

That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
"Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:"
And ever and anon they made a doubt
Presence majestical would put him out;
"For," quoth the king, "an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously."
The boy replied, "An angel is not evil;

I should have feared her, had she been a devil."
With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the

shoulder,

Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and swore
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,

Mar. This, and these pearls to me sent Longa- Cry'd "Via! we will do't, come what will come :"

ville:

The letter is too long by half a mile.

Prin. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart,

The chain were longer, and the letter short? Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never párt.

Prin. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking

So.

That same Biron I'll torture ere I go.

The third he caper'd, and cried, "All goes well:"
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?

Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,

Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess,

Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance;
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several which they did bestow.

Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd;

For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd,
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.-
Hold, Rosaline; this favour thou shalt wear,
And then the king will court thee for his dear:
Hold, take you this, my sweet, and give me thine,
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.-
And change you favours, too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Ros. Come on then: wear the favours most in sight.

Kath. But in this changing what is your intent? Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs : They do it but in mockery, merriment; And mock for mock is only my intent. Their several counsels they unbosom shall To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal, Upon the next occasion that we meet, With visages display'd, to talk, and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; But, while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face.

Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within.

Boyet. The trumpet sounds: be mask'd, the [The Ladies mask.

maskers come.

Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and Du-
MAINE, in Russian habits, and masked; MOTH,
Musicians, and Attendants.

Moth. "All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!"
Biron. Beauties no richer than rich taffata.
Moth. 66
A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

[The Ladies turn their backs to him. That ever turn'd their backs to mortal views!" Biron. " "Their eyes," villain, "their eyes." Moth. "That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!

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That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess?
Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation.
Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be

gone.

Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be

gone.

King. Say to her, we have measur❜d many miles, To tread a measure with her on this grass.

Boyet. They say, that they have measur❜d many a mile,

To tread a measure with you on this grass.

Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches Is in one mile? if they have measur'd many, The measure then of one is easily told.

Boyet. If, to come hither you have measur'd miles,

And many miles, the princess bids you tell,
How many inches do fill up one mile.
Biron. Tell her, we measure them by weary

steps.

Boyet. She hears herself.

Ros.

How many weary steps,
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
Biron. We number nothing that we spend for you:
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, like savages, may worship it.

Ros. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. King. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine (Those clouds removed) upon our watery eyne.

Ros. O, vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water. King. Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.

Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then! nay, you must do it soon. [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance :-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus

estranged?

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Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

As is the razor's edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;

Above the sense of sense, so sensible
Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter
things.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids: break off, break off.

Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! King. Farewell, mad wenches: you have simple wits.

[Exeunt KING, Lords, MoтH, Music, and Attendants.

Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.

Prin. O, poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night, Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite. Ros. They were all in lamentable cases! The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.

Prin. Biron did swear himself out of all suit. Mar. Dumaine was at my service, and his sword: No point, quoth I: my servant straight was mute. Kath. Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart; And trow you, what he call'd me? Prin.

Kath. Yes, in good faith. Prin.

Qualm, perhaps.

Go, sickness as thou art! Ros. Well, better wits have worn plain statute

caps.

But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
Kath. And Longaville was for my service born.
Mar. Dumaine is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear.
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Prin. Will they return?

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