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King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis 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.

[Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c.

Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Enter COSTARD arm'd, for Pompey.

Cost. I Pompey am,

Boyet. You lie, 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.

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. 'Tis 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 arm'd, 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 tendersmelling 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, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander. Biron. Pompey the great,

Cost. Your servant, and Costárd.

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 conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires.] There, an't shall 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 see how 'tis ;-a little o'erparted:-But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

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Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter HOLOFERNES arm'd, for Judas, and MOTн arm'd, 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 vanish. [Exit MOTн.

Hol. 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. 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.

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 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.

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.

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 he hath been baited!

Enter ARMADO arm'd, for Hector.

Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms.

Dum. Though 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?

Dum. 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 indued in the small.

Biron. This cannot be Hector.

Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.

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Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,

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,
Gave 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 pavilion.

I am that flower,—

Dum. That mint.

Long. That columbine.

Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector.

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 he breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward my device: Sweet royalty, [to the Princess.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [BIRON whispers COSTARD.

Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted. 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 Hector, she is gone;

she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?

Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the

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