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day with a companion of the King's, who is intitled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Hol. Novi hominem, tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his difcourfe peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gate majeftical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrafonical. He is too piqued, too fpruce, too affected, too odd, as it were; too peregrinate, as I may call it.

Nath. A moft fingular and choice epithet.

[Draws out his table-book.

Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the ftaple of his argument. I abhor fuch phanatical phantafms, fuch infociable and point-devife companions; fuch rackers of orthography, as do fpeak dout fine, when he should say doubt; det, when he fhould pronounce debt; d, e, b, t; not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebour; neigh abbreviated ne. This is abominable, which we would call abhominable: it infinuateth me of infanity: Ne intelligis, Domine, to make frantic, lunatic?

Nath. Laus Deo, bone, intelligo.

Hol. Bone? bone, for benè; Prifcian a little fcratch'd; 'twill ferve.

SCENE II. Enter Armado, Moth, and Coftard.

Nath. Videfne quis venit?

Hol. Video, & gaudeo.

Arm. Chirra.

Hol. Quare chirra, not firrah?

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd,
Hol. Moft military, Sir, falutation.

Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and ftole the fcraps.

Coft. O, they have liv'd long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not fo long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art eafier fwallow'd than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace, the peal begins.

Arm. Monfieur, are you not letter'd?

Moth. Yes, yes, he teaches boys the horn-book :

What is A B fpelt backward with a horn on his head? Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba, moft filly fheep, with a horn. You hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou confonant?

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 fheep; the other two concludes it, o, u. Arm. Now, by the falt wave of the Mediterraneum, a fweet touch, a quick venew of wit; fnip, fnap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect; true wit.

Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man: which is wit-old,

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

Moth. Horns.

Hol. Thou difputeft like an infant; go, whip thy gigg.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circùm circà; a gigg of a cuckold's horn.

Coft. An' I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldft have it to buy ginger-bread; hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy mafter, thou halfpenny purfe of wit, thou pidgeon-egg of discretion. O, that the heav'ns were fo pleased, that thou wert but my baftard! what a joyful father wouldst thou make me? go to, thou haft it ad dunghill; at the finger's ends, as they fay.

Hol. O, I fmell falfe Latin, dunghill for unguem.

Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be fingled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the chargehoufe on the top of the mountain?

Hol. Or mons the hill.

Arm. At your fweet pleasure, for the mountain.
Hol. I do, fans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the King's moft fweet pleafure and affection, to congratulate the Princefs at her pavilion, in the pofteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol. The pofterior of the day, most generous Sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon :

the word is well cull'd, choice, fweet, and apt, I do affure you, Sir, I do affure.

Arm. Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar; I do affure you, my very good friend; for what is inward between us, let it pass- I do befeech thee, remember thy curtesy- -I beseech thee, apparel thy head,and among other importunate and moft serious designs, and of great import indeed too -but let that pafs :—for I must tell thee, it will please his Grace (by the world) fometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal finger thus dally with my excrement, with my muftachio; but, fweet heart, let that pafs. By the world, I recount no fable; fome certain fpecial honours it pleaseth his Greatness to impart to Armado, a foldier, a man of travel, that hath feen the world; but let that pass-the very all of all is-but, fweet heart, I do implore fecrecy-that the King would have me present the Princess (fweet chuck) with fome delightful oftentation, or fhow, or pageant, or antic, or fire-work. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are good at fuch eruptions, and fudden breaking out of mirth, (as it were), I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your affiftance.

Hol. Sir, You fhall present before her the nine wor thies. Sir, as concerning fome entertainment of time, some show in the pofterior of this day, to be rendered by our affiftants at the King's command, and this moft gallant, illuftrate, and learned Gentleman, before the Princess: I fay, none fo fit as to present the nine worthies.

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

Hol. Jofhua, yourfelf; this gallant man, Judas Maccabeus; this fwain (because of his great limb or joint) fhall pass Pompey the Great; and the page, Hercules.

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

Hol. Shall I have audience? he fhall prefent Hercules in minority; his Enter and Exit fhall be ftran

gling a fnake; and I will have an apology for that purpofe.

Moth. An excellent device: for if any of the audience hifs, you may cry; "Well done, Hercules, now "thou crufheft the fnake;" that is the way make an offence gracious, tho' few have the grace to do it. Arm. For the reft of the worthies,

Hol. I will play three myself.

Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman !
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?

Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I befeech you, follow.

Hol. Via! good-man Dull, thou haft spoken no word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, Sir.

Hol. Allons; we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or fo: or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Moft dull, honeft, Dull, to our fport away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Before the Princess's pavilion.

Enter Princefs, and Ladies.

Prin. Sweet hearts, we fhall 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.

Rof. Madam, came nothing elfe along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in rhime, As would be cramm'd up in a fheet of paper, Writ on both fides the leaf, margent and all; That he was fain to feal on Cupid's name.

Rof. That was the way to make his godhead wax, For he hath been five thousand years a boy. Cath. Ay, and a threwd unhappy gallows too. Rof. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'd your fifter.

Cath. He made her melancholy, fad and heavy, And fo fhe died; had fhe been light, like you,

Of fuch a merry, nimble, ftirring fpirit,

She might have been a grandam ere the dy'd.
And fo may you; for a light heart lives long.

Rof. What's your dark meaning, moufe, of this light

word?

Cath. A light condition, in a beauty dark.

Rof. We need more light to find your meaning out. Cath. You'll mar the light, by taking it in fnuff: Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

Rof. Look, what you do; and do it ftill i' th' dark. Cath. So do not you, for you are a light wench. Rof. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Cath. You weigh me not; O, that's, you care not for me.

Rof. Great reafon; for paft cure is ftill paft care. Prin. Well bandied both; a fet of wit well play'd. But, Rofaline, you have a favour too.

Who fent it? and what is it?

Rof. I would you knew.

And if my face were but as fair as your's,
My favour were as great; be witnefs this.
Nay, I have verfes 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?

Ref. Much in the letters, nothing in the praife.
Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclufion.
Cath. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.

Rof. Ware pencils*. How? let me not die your
debter,

My red dominical, my golden letter.

O, that your face were not fo full of Oes!

Cath. Pox of that jeft, and I befhrew all shrews.
Prin. But what was fent to you from fair Dumain?
Cath. Madam, this glove.

Prin. Did he not fend you

twain ?

Cath. Yes, Madam; and moreover,

Some thousand verfes of a faithful lover.

* Meaning to check Catharine for her painting, pencil being a painting-bruh

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