560

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 SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander. Nuth. When in the world I lived, 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 tender-smelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.

570

Nath. When in the world I lived, I was the world's commander,-

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.

Biron. Pompey the Great,Cost. Your servant, and Costard. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.

Cost. [To Sir Nath.] O, sir, you have overthrown Älisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax 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 ; à foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbor, faith, 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. 590 Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter HOLOFERNES, for Judas; and MoтH, for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp,

Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three

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.

Long.

That mint.

661

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 breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my device. [To the Princess] Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing. 670

Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.

Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Boyet. [Aside to Dum.] Loves her by the foot.

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the Huge! Dum. Hector trembles. Biron. Pompey is moved. more Ates! stir them on! stir them on! Dum. Hector will challenge him.

More Ates,

Biron. Ay, if a' have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee.

Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed Worthies!
Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.

Dum. Most resolute Pompey!

Moth. Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncas-ing for the combat? What mean you? You will lose your reputation.

Arm. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.

710

Dum. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.

Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will. Biron. What reason have you for't? Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wor.. none but a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that a' wears next his heart for a favor.

the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies.

King. How fares your majesty ?
Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-
night.
I do beseech you,

King. Madam, not so;
stay.

Prin. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,

For all your fair endeavors; and entreat, 740
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spirits,
If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord!
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue :
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtain❜d.

King. The extreme parts of time extremely forms 750

All causes to the purpose of his speed,
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
From what it purposed; since, to wail friends
lost

Is not by much so wholesome-profitable 760
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are double.

Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the
ear of grief;

And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty,
ladies,

Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our hu

mors

770

Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies, 780
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you :
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.

Prin. We have received your letters full of love;

Your favors, the ambassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them

Grant us your loves.

Prin.
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this: 801
If for my love, as there is no such cause,
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these
deserts,

And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and till that instant shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation

For the remembrance of my father's death. 820
If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
Neither intitled in the other's heart.
King. If this, or more than this, I would
deny,

To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye! Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. [Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me?

Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are

rack'd,

You are attaint with faults and perjury: Therefore if you my favor mean to get,

830

A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
But seek the weary beds of people sick.]
Dum. But what to me, my love? but what
to me?

Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there : Impose some service on me for thy love.

850

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord
Biron,

Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit.
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful
brain,

And therewithal to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won,

You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day 860

Visit the speechless sick and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,

With all the fierce endeavor of your wit
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat
of death?

It cannot be; it is impossible :
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,

Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

871

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
Deaf'd with the clamors of their own dear

When icicles hang by the wall

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow
And coughing drowns the parson's saw
And birds sit brooding in the snow

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tn-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

920

930

Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way we this way. [Exeunt