King. Teach us, sweet Madam, for our rude tranfSome fair excuse,

Prin. The fairest is confeffion.

Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd?
King. Madam, I was.

Prin. And were you well advis'd?

King. I was, fair Madam.

Prin. When you then were here,

What did you whisper in your Lady's ear?

[greffion

King. That more than all the world I did respect her.
Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin. Peace, peace, forbear:

Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
King. Despise me when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Roseline,

What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

Rof. Madam, he fwore that he did hold me dear
As precious eye-fight; and did value me
Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,
That he would wed me, or else die my lover.

Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble Lord
Moft honourably doth uphold his word.

King. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my I never fwore this Lady such an oath. [troth, Rof. By heav'n you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this: but take it, Sir, again.

King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her fleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.
What? will you have me; or your pearl again?
Biron. Neither of either: I remit both twain.

I fee the trick on't; here was a confent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment)
To dash it, like a Christmas comedy.

Some carry-tale, some please-man, fome flight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That fmiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my Lady laugh, when she's difpos'd,
Told our intents before; which once difclos'd,

The ladies did change favours, and then we,
Following the figns, woo'd but the fign of the:
Now to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forfworn; in will, and error.
Much upon this it is. - And might not you [TO]
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 ftand 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 finock shall be your shrowc
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden fword.

Boyet. Full merrily

Hath this brave manage, this career, been run. Biron. Lo, he is tilting strait. Peace, I have

Enter Coftard.

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?
Coft. No, Sir, but it is vara fine;

For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times three is nine?

Coft. Not fo, Sir, under correction, Sir; I ho is not fo.

You cannot beg us, Sir; I can affure you, Sir know what we know: I hope three times thrice, S Biron. Is not nine?

Coft. Under correction, Sir, we know where it doth amount.

Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for n
Coft. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get

living by reckoning, Sir.

Biron. How much is it?

Coft. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the ad Sir, will fhew whereuntil it doth amount; for my part, I am, as they say, but to perfect one man in poor man, Pompion the Great, Sir.

Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?

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.

1

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

King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not ap[Exit Coft.

proach. Biron. We are shame-proof, my Lord; and 'tis

fome policy

To have one show worse than the King's and his com-
King. I fay, they shall not come.
[pany.
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, 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 protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; 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, most Royal coupplement.

King. Here is like to be a good prefence of worthies: he prefents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish-curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Machabeus.

And if these four worthics in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits, and present the other
Biron. There are five in the first show.
King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not fo.

[five.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-prieft,

the foc', and the boy.

A

A bare throw at novum, and the whole world a Cannot prick out five fuch, take each one in's v King. The ship is under fail, and here the com main.

Enter Costard for Pompey.

Coft. I Pompeу ат

Boyet. You lye, you are not he.

Coft. I Pompey am

Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well faid, old mocker: I must needs be fri

with thee.

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

Coft. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, furnam'd the Gr That oft in field, with targe and shield,

Did make my foe to sweat:

And travelling along this coaft, I here am come by char And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet laj

France.

If your Ladyship would say, "Thanks,-Pompe

had done.

Prin. Great thanks, Great Pompey.

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

Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves best worthy.

Enter Nathaniel for Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the wari commander; By east, west, north, and fouth, Ispread my conquer. might:

My 'Scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alifander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stan

too right.

Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tende

fmelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is dismaid: proceed, go Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the worla

Biron. Pompey the Great.

Coft. Your fervant, and Costard.

Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alifander.

Coft. O Sir, you have overthrown Alifander the conqueror. [To Nath.] You will be fcraped out of the painted cloth for this; your lion that holds the pollax 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 shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and foon dash'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth, and a very good bowler; but for Alifander, alas, you fee, how 'tis a little o'erparted: but there are worthies a-coming will speak their mind in fome other fort.

Biron. Stand afide, good Pompey.

Enter Holofernes for Judas, and Moth for Hercules. Hol. Great Hercles is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed

And when he was a babe, a child, a fhrimp,

Thus did he strangle ferpents in his manus :

Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
Ergo, I come with this apology.

Keep fome state in thy Exit, and vanish. [Exit Moth.

Hol. Judas I am.

Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Ifcariot, Sir;

Judas I am, ycleped Machabeus.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.

Biron. A kifling 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.