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This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my beart,
That put Armado's page out of his part!
Enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET: ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, and Attendants. Biron. See where it comes!-Bebaviour, what wert thou,
Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now?
King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
King. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you
have spoke ;
For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
A world of torments though I should endure,
Ros. But that you take what doth to you be long,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. Biron. Oh! I am your's, and all that I pos
Ros. All the fool mine?
Biron. I cannot give you less.
Ros. Which of the visors was it, that you wore ?
Biron. Where? when? what visor? why demand you this?
Ros. There, then, that visor; that superfluous case,
That hid the worse, and show'd the better face. King. We are descried: they mock us now
Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. Prin. Amaz'd, my lord? why looks your highness sad?
Ros. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale ?Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?— Here stand I, lady; dart thy skill at me ;
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout:
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my igno
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit; And I will wish thee never more to dance,
Nor never more in Russian babit wait. Oh! never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue; Nor never come in visor to my friend; •
Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song:
Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical; these summer-flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
Of the old rage :-bear with me, I am sick;
They are infected, in their hearts it lies;
Some fair excuse.
Prin. The fairest is confession.
Were you not here, but even now disguis'd?
Prin. And were you well advis'd?
Prin. When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
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.
Your oath once broke, you force not to for
King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will; and therefore keep it :-Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
As precious eye-sight; and did value me
Most honourably doth uphold his word.
King. What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth,
I never swore this lady such an oath.
Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
Cost. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir.
Biron. How much is it?
Cost. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the great, Sir.
Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?
Cost. 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. Cost. We will turn it finely off, Sir; we will take some care. [Exit COSTARD. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not approach.
Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis some policy
Ros. By heaven, you did; and to confirm it To have one show worse than the king's and his plain,
You gave me this: but take it, Sir, again.
King. My faith, and this, the princess I did
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear;
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear :-
Some numble-news, some trencher-knight, some
That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,-
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
company. King. I say they shall not come.
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
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord.
Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.
[ARMADO converses with the KING, and
Prin. Doth this man serve God?
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 ex ceeding 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 ! [Exit ARMADO.
King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: 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
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 NATHANIEL arm'd, for Alexander.
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my
Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most
Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd; Proceed, good Alexander.
Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the
Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so,
Biron. Pompey the great.
Cost. Your servant, and Costárd.
Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
Biron. Because thou hast no face.
Boyet. A cittern head.
Dum. The head of a bodkin.
Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion,
Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-
And now, forward; for we have put thee in
Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Dum. For the latter end of his name.
Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him;
Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
Boyet. A light for Monsieur Judas; it grows dark, he may stumble.
Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath be
Enter ARMADO armed, for Hector.
Dum. Though my mocks come home by me,
King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyct. But is this Hector?
Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector.
Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small.
Dum. He's a god or a painter: for he makes faces.
Cost. O Sir, [To NATH.] you have over-timber'd. thrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-ax sitting on a closestool, will be given to A-jax: 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; a foolish mild man ; au 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'erparted :-But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.
Enter HOLOFERNES armed, for Judas, and
Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this
Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-
And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Dum. No, cloven.
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
From morn till night, out of his pavalion.
Dum. That mint.
Long. 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 breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the PRINCESS.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [BIRON whispers COSTARD. Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Dum. He may not by the yard.
Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hanni. bal,
• A soldier's powder-horn.
An ornamental buckle for fastening hat-hands, ke. 1 Lance-men.
Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she | Forbid the smiling courtesy of love, is goue; she is two months on her way.
Arm. What meanest thou?
Cost. Faith, unless you play the bonest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours. Arm. Dost thou iufamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.
Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey that is dead by him.
Dum. Most rare Pompey! Boyet. Renowned Pompey !
The holy suit which fain it would convince;
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.
Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty,ladies, Pompey, Pompey the huge!
Dum. Hector trembles.
Hath much deforin'd us, fashioning our humours
Biron. Pompey is mov'd :-More Ates, more And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,--
Dum. Hector will challenge him. Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea.
As love is full of unbefitting strains:
Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a thern man; + I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I pray 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 button-bole lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose 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 may and will. Biron. What reason bave you for't? Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.
Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour.
Mer. God save you, madam !
Prin. Welcome, Mercade;
But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Prin. We have receiv'd your letters foll o love ;
Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
Long. So did our looks.
Ros. We did not quote them so.
King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour
Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I Grant us your loves. bring,
Prin. A time methinks, too short
Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father-To make a world-without-end bargain in ;
Mer. Even so; my tale is told.
Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins cloud.
Arm. For mine 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 Worthies.
King. How fares your majesty ?
For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
King. The extreme parts of time extremely form
All causes to the purpose of his speed;
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of our love,
King. If this, or more than this, I would deny To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden band 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?
Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again.
Long. What says Maria?
Mar. At the twelvemonth's end,
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is Jong.
Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me, Behold the window of my heart, mine eye. What humble suit attends thy answer there; Impose some service on me for thy love.
Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, 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
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Of him that bears it, never in the tongue
Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,Prin. Was not that Hector ? Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vow'd to Jaque. netta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But most esteemed greatness, will you bear the dialogue that the two learned mea have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo ? it should have follow'd in the end of our show. King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so. Arm. Holla! approach.
Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, MOTH,
This side is hyems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
Then nightly sings the staring owl, To-who;
To-whit, to-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. IV.
When all aloud the wind doth blow. And coughing drowns the parson's
And birds sits brooding in the snow,
To-whit, to-who, a merry note.
↑ Wild apples.