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Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch: for, I protest, the school-master is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain : But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement !
King. Here is like to be a good presence of wor. thies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the great; the parish-curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabæus. And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other five.
Biron. There is five in the first show.
King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.
Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and the boy :
A bare 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.
[Pageant of the Nine Worthies.
Enter COSTARD, 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 surnamed 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
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 half-penny, Pompey 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 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander.
Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands
Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tendersmelling-knight.
Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, good
Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's
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 Ali. sander.
Cost. O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! [To NATH.] 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 then be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and -afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [Exit NATH.] 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'er-parted:-But there are worthies a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort. 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.
[To MOTH.] Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Dum. Judas Maccabæus 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
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 counte
Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
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 Maccabæus, how he hath been baited!
Enter ARMADO, 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 indu'd in the small.
Biren. This can't be Hector.
Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift,—
Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
Long. Stuck with cloves.