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The ladies did change favours, and then we,
Following the signs, wood but the sign of the:
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 [To Boyet.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue ?
Do not you know my Lady's foot by th' squier,

And laugh upon the apple of her eye,
And stand between her back, Sir, and the fire,

Holding a trencher, jefting merrily ?
You put our page out : go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shrowd.
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 strait. Peace, I have done,

Enter Costard.
Welcome, pure wit, thou partest a fair fray.

Coft. O Lord, Sir, they would know
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no.

Biron. What, are there but three?

Cost. No, Sir, but it is vara fine ; For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times three is nine ?

Cost. Not so, 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 ?

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 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 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.

Biron. Art thou one of the worthies ?

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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.

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

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

[Exit Coit, Biron. We are fame-proof, my Lord ; and 'tis

fome policy To have one lhow worse than the King's and his comKing. I say, they shall not come.

[pany. Prin. Nay, my good Lord, let me o'er-rule you now; That sport beit 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, perish in their birth, Biron. A right description of our sport, my Lord.

SCENE IX. 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 proteft, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain ; too, too vain : but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you

the

peace of mind, most Royal coupplement.

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 Machabeus.
And if these four worthies in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits, and present the other

Biron. There are five in the first show. [five,
King. You are deceiv’d, 'tis not so.
Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest,

the fool, and the boy. VOL. II.

S

France.

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 sail, and here she comes a-

main.

Enter Coftard for Pompey.
Coft. I Pompey am
Boyet. You lye, you are not he.
Coff. I Ротреу ат-
Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee.

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

Coft. I Pompey am, Pompey Jurnam'd the Big.
Dum. The Great.

Coft. 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 an come by chance ;
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of
If your Ladyship would say, “ Thanks,-Pompey, I

had done.
Prin. Great thanks, Great Pompey.

Coft. 'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect. I made a little fault in great.

Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pomp-y proves the best worthy.

Enter Nathaniel 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 southeon plain declares, that I am Alifander.
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.
Bojet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.

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Biron. Pompey the Great,
Coft. Your servant, and Costard.

Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alifander.

Cost. O Sir, you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror. [T. Nath.] You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this; your lion, that holds the poll-ax fitting on a close-stool, will be given to A-jax*; he will be then the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afraid to speak ? run away for shame, Alisander. There, an't fhall please you ; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash’d. He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth, and a very good bowler ; but for Alisander, alas, you fee, how 'tis a little o'erparted: but there are worthies a-coming will fpeak their mind in some other fort,

Biron, 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 :
Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
Ergo I come with this apology.-
Keep some state in thy Exit, and vanifh. [Exit Moth:

Hol. Judas I am.
Dum, A Judas !

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

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron. A killing traitor. How art thou provid

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.

* A ridicule upon the arms given to Alexander in the history of the nine worthies; and it ends in a wretched quibble upon the words Ajax and A-jakes.

Biron. Well follow'd; Judas was, hang'd on an

elder.
Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Biron. Because thou hast no face.
Hot. What is this?
Boyet. A cittern head.
Dum. The head of a bodkin.
Biron. A death's face in a ring.
Ilong. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion.
Dum. The cary'd-bone face on a flaik.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.
Dim. 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 counte

nance.

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.

Poyet. 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. Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Boyet. A light for Monsieur Judas; it grows dark, he may

Itumble. Prin. Alas! poor Machabeus, how he hath been

baited !

Enter Armado.

Biron, Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector

in arms.

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

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector!
King. I think, Hećior was not fo clean-timber'd.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector.
Dum, More calf, certain,
Bayet. No; he is best endu'd in the small,

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