speak? run away for fhame, Alifander. There, an't
mall please you'; a foolish mild man; an honeft man,
look you, and foon dash'd. He is a marvellous good
neighbour, in footh, 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 fort.

Biron. Stand afide, 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 ;
Erge, I come with this apology.-
Keep some state in thy Exit, and vanish. [Exit Moth.

Hol. Judas I am.
Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, 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 ihame for you, Judas.

Hol. What mean you, Sir ?
Boyet. To make Judas hang him felf.
Hol Begin, Sir, you are my elder.
Biron. Weli 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 fiask.
Biron. St. George's half cheek in a brooch.
Dum. Ay, and in a brocch of lead.

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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. ud-as, away.
Hol. This is not generous, nor gentle, nor humble.
Boyet. A light for monfieur Judas; it grows dark, he
Prin. Alas! poor Machabeus, how he hath been baited!

Enter Armado.
Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector in



be merry.

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Dum. Tho' my mocks come home by me, I will now
King. He&tor was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector ?
King. I think Hector was not so clean timber'd.
Long. His leg is too big for He&or.
Dum. More calf, certain.
Boyet. No; he is best indu'd in the small.
Biron. This can't be Heftor.
Dum. He's a god, or a painter, for he makes faces.

Arm. The armipotent Mars, of launces the Almighty, Gave Hector a gift,

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Dum. No, cloyen.
Arm. The armipotent Mars, of launces the Almighty,

Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A mar so breathed, that certain he would fight ye

From morn 'till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower.
Dum. That mint.



Long. That cullambine.
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 grey:

- hound.
Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten ;
Sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the bury'd :
But I will forward with

Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing:

Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
Arm. I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.
D#m. He may not, by the yard.
Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal (51).

Coft. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What mean’ft thou?

Coft. Faith, unless you play the honeft Trojan, the poor wench is caft away; The's quick, the child brags in her belly already. 'Tis yours.

Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates ? Thou shalt die.

Coff. Then shall He&tor be whipt for Jaquenetta, that is quick by him; and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead

by him.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge !

Dum. Hector trembles,

Biron. Pompey is mov'd ; more Ates, more Ates, ftir them on, stir them on.

Dum. Hector will challenge him.

(51) This Hector far furmaunted Hannibal.

be porty is gone.) All the editions stupidly have plac'd these last words as part of Armde do's speech in the interlude. I have ventur'd to give them to Coftard, who is for putting Armado out of his part, by telling him the party (i, e. bis mistress Jaquenetta,) is gone two months with child by him.

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

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

Coft. I will not fight with a pole like a northern man: I'll flath ; I'll do't by the sword : I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Coft. I'll do't in my shirt.
Dum. Moft resolute Pompey?

Moth. Mafter, let me take you a button-hole lower! Do you nct fee, Pompey is uncafing for the combat: what mean you ? you will lofe your reputation..

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

Dum. You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge. Arm. Sweet bloods, I both


and will. Biron. What reason have


fort? Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt ; I go woolward for penance.

Boyet. True, (52) and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen ; since when, I'll be sworn he wore nore, but a dish-clout of Yaquenetta's, and that he wears next his heat for a favour.

Enter Macard.

Mac. God save



(52.) And it was injoin'd bim in Rome fox want of linen.] Sbakespeare certainly alludes here to a famous story, a matter of fact that happen'd at Rome, sometime, I think, before his time. A Spaniard fell in a duel : in his last moments one of his most intimate friends chanc'd to come by, condold with him, and offer'd his beft service. The dying person told him he had but one requeft to make to him, and conjur'd him by the memory of their long friendfhip punctually to comply with it: which was, not to suffer him to be stript as usual, but to bury him in the condition, and very habit he was then in. When this was promis'd, the Spaniard clos'ét his eyes, with great composure and satisfaction. But his friend's curiosity prevailid over his obligations, and defiring to know the reason of so uncommon a request, so earnestly prefs’d, he had him stripp'd ; and found to his great surprize, he was without a thirt.




Prin. Welcome, Macard, but that thou interruptet our merriment,

Mac. I'm sorry, Madam; for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father

Prin. Dead, for my life,
Mac. Even fo: my tale is told.
Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud.

Arm. For my own part, I breathe free breath; I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.

Exeunt Wortbies. King. How fares your Majesty ? Prin. Boyet, prepare ; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, ftay.

Prin. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious Lords,
For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
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 born ourselves
In the converse of breath, your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewel, worthy Lord ;
An heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue : (53)
Excuse me fo, coming so short of thanks,
For my great suit so easily obtain'd.

King. The extreme part of time extremely forms
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

(53) An beavy beart bears not an humble tongue.] Thus all the editions ; but, surely, without either sense or truth. None are more bumble in speech, than they who labour under any oppression. The Princess is defiring, her grief may apologize for her not expressing her obligations at large; and my correction is conformable to that fentiment.


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