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Biron. And three times three is nine ?

Coft. Not fo, Sir, under' correction, Sir; I hope, it is not so. You cannot beg'us, Sir ; I can assure you, Sir, we know what we know: I hope, three times thrice, Sir

Biron. Is not nine.

Coft. 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 pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir.

Biron. How much is it?

Col. O lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Sir, will shew whereuntil it doth amount; for my own part, I am, as they say, but to perfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great, Sir.

Biren. Art'thou one of the worthjes?

Coft. 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.
Coff. We will turn it finely off, Sir, we will take some

care.

King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not approach.

[Exit Colt. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord ; and 'tis some

policy To have one Show worse than the King's and his Com.

pany.
King. I fay, 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.
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it presents ;
Their form, confounded, makes most form in mirth;
When great things, labouring perith in their birth.

Biran, A right description of our sport, my lord.

Enter Enter Armado, Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

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 3: too, too vain; too, too vain : but we will put it; as they fay, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, moft royal coupplement:

King. Here is like to be a good presence of Wor-
thies : he presents Hector of Troy; the lwain, Pompey the
Great; the parish-curate, Alexander ;: Armado's page,
Hercules; the pedant, Yudas Machabeus.
And if these four Worthies in their first Show thrive,
These four will change habits, and present the other five,

Biron. There are five in the first Show.
King. You are deceiyd, 'tis not so.
Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge priest,,

the fool, and the boy.
A bare throw at Novum, and the whole world again
Cannot prick out five such, take each one in's vein.
King. The ship is under fail, and here the comes

amain.

Enter Costard for Pompey.
Coft. I Pompey am-
Boyet. You lye, you are not he.
Cost. I Pompey am
Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well said, old mocker : I must needs be: friends with thee.

Coff. I Pompey am, Pompey furnam'd the Big.
Dum. The Great.

Coft. It is Great, Sir ; Pompey, Jurnam'd the Great';
That oft in field, with targe and shield,
Did make my foe to fweat ::

5

Anda!

cbance ;

Ind travelling along this coast, I bere am come by And lay my arms before the legs of this fweet Lass of

France. If your ladyship would say, " thanks, -- Pompey, I had

done. Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Coff. 'Jis not so much worth ; but, I hope, I was perfect. I made a little fault in great.

Biron. My hat to a half. penny, Pompey proves the beft Worthy

Enter Nathaniel for Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's

Commander; By eaft, weft, north and fouth, I spread my conquering

might: My 'Sextcbeon plain declares, that I am Alisander. Bozet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it lands

too right. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, moft tender fmel

ling Knight Prin. The

Conqueror is dismaid : proceed, good Alexander, Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's

Commander. Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alifander. Biron. Pompey the Great, Coff. Your servant, and Coftard.

Biron. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alifander.

Cot. O Sir, you have overthrown Alifander the Conqueror. (to Nath.] You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this ; your lion, that holds the poll-ax fitting on a close ftool, will be given to A-jax ; he will be then the ninth Worthy. A Conqueror, and afraid to Speak? run away for shame, Alijander. There, an't fhall please you ; a foolish mild man; an honeft man, look you, and soon dash'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth, and a very good bowler ; but for

Alifander,

Alifander, alas, you see, how 'tis a little o'er parted: but there are Worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other fort.

Birox. Stand afide, 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 canusa And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus :
Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;
Ergo, I come with this apology.
Keep some state in thy Exit, and vanish. [Exit Moth.

Hol. Judas I am.
Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir;
Judas I am, jcleped Machabeus.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron. A kissing traitor. How art thou prov'd Judas?
Hol. Judas I am.
Dum. The more shame for you, Judas.
Hol. What mean you, Sir?
Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.
Hol. Begin, Sir, you are my elder.
Biron. Well follow'd ; Judas was hang'd on an Elder.
Mol. 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.
Biran. A death's face in a ring.
Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cæfar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flask.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch,
Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Birom Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer ; And now, forward; for we have put thee in counte

nance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.

Biror. 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 afs, let him go.
An so adieu, sweet y ude ; 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. Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Boyet. A light for monsieur J udas; it grows dark, he may

ftumble. Prin. Alas! poor Machabeus, how he hath been baited!

Enter Armado. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes He&or

in arms.

Dum. Tho' my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojax in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Heelor?
King. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector.
Dum. More calf, certain.
Boyet. No; he is best indu'd in the small.
· Biron. This can't be Hector.

Dum. He's a God or a Painter, for he makes faces.

Arm. The armipotent Mars, of launces the Almighty, Gave Hector a gift,

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Dum. No, cloven.
Arm. The armipotent Mars, of launces the Almighty,

Gave Hector a gift, the heir of llion;
A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight ye

From morn 'till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that Flower.

Dum. That mint.
Long. That cu lambine.
Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

Long.

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