Cof. Not fo, Sir, under correction, Sir; I hope, it is not fo.

You cannot beg us, Sir; I can affure you, Sir, we know what we know: I hope, three times thrice, Sir

Biron. Is not nine.

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

Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine, Coft. O Lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir."

Biron. How much is it?

Coft. O Lord, Sir, the parties themselves, the actors,

Sir, will fhew where until it doth amount; for my

own

part, I am, as they fay, but to perfect one man in one 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 ftand for him.

Biron. Go bid them prepare.

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

King. Biron, they will fhame us; let them not approach. [Ext Coit. Biron. We are fhame-proof, my Lord; and 'tis fome

policy

To have one showworfe than the King's and his company, King. I fay, they fhall not come.

Prin. Nay, my good Lord, let me o'er-rule you now; That fport beft pleases, that doth least know how. Where zeal ftrives to content, a and the contents Dies in the zeal of that which it prefents; Their form, confounded, makes moft form in mirth When great things, labouring, perish in their birth. Biron. A right defcription of our fport, my Lord.

Enter Armado.

E

Arm. Anointed, I implore fo much expence of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.; Prin. Doth this man ferve God?

A

Biren. Why afk you?

Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making.

Arm. That's all one, my fair sweet honey monarch; for, I proteft, the schoolmafter 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 cupplement.

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

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive,
Thefe four will change habits, and prefent the other five.
Biron. There are five in the first show.

King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not fo.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-prieft, the fool, and the boy.

A bare throw at Novum, and the whole world again Cannot prick out five fuch, take each one in's vein. King. The fhip is under fail, and here she comes amain ̧ Enter Coftard for Pompey.

You Îye, you are not he.

Coft. I Pompey am

Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee. (49)

Biron. Well faid, old mocker: I muft needs be friends with thee.

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

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

Did make my foe to fweat:

And travelling along this coaft, I here am come by chance; And lay my arms before the legs of this fweet lafs of France. If your Lady fhip would fay, "thanks Pompey," I had done.

(49) with Linhard's bead on knee.] This alludes to those oldfashion'd garments, upon the knees and elbows of which it was frequent to have, by way of ornament, a Leopard's, or Lion's head. This accoutrement the Fremb call'd une masquine,

Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Coft. 'Tis not fo 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 eaft, weft, north and fouth, I spread my conquering might: My fcutcheon plain declares that I am Álifander.

Boyet. Your nofe fays, no, you are not; for it stands too right.

Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender smelling Knight.

Prin. The conqueror is difmay'd: proceed, good Alexander.

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

Boyet. Moft true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander. 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 scraped out of the painted cloth for this; your lion, that holds the poll-ax fitting on a clofe-ftool (50), will be given to A-jax; he will be then the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afraid to

(50) Your lion that holds the poll-ax fitting on a closestool,] Alexander the Great, as one of the nine worthies, bears gules; a lion, or, feiant in a chair, holding a battle-ax argent. Vid. Ger. Leigh's Acci dence of Armouries. But why, because Nathaniel had behaved ill as Alexander, was that worthy's lion and poll-ax to be given to Ajax? Coftard, the clown, has a conceit in this very much of a piece with his character. The name of Ajax is equivocally us'd by him; and he means, the infignia of fuch a conqueror, as the curate exhibited in his wretched reprefentation ought to be given to a Jakes ; — fit werbo reverential the fame fort of conundrum is ufed by B. Jonfon at the clofe of his poem, call'd, The famous Voyage.

And I could with, for their eterniz'd fakes,
My mufe had plow'd with his that fung A-jax.

2

speak ♪

speak? run away for fhame, Alifander. There, an't fhall pleafe you; a foolish mild man ; an honeft man, look you, and foon dafh'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, infooth, and a very good bowler; but for Alifander, alas, you fee, how 'tis a little o'er-parted: 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 Hercules is prefented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus; And when he was a babe, a child, a fhrimp, Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus :

Quoniam, he feemeth in minority;

Erge, I come with this apology.

Keep fome state in thy Exit, and vanish.

Hol. Judas I am.

Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Ifcariot, Sir;

Judas I am, ycleped Machabeus.

[Exit Moth.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron. A kiffing 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 himfelf.

Hol Begin, Sir, you are my

elder.

Biron. Well follow'd; Judas was hang'd on an elder.

Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.

Biron. Because thou haft 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 feen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cefar'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 brocch 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.
Biron. Falfe; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.

Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do fo.
Boyet. Therefore as he is an ass, let him go.
And fo adieu, fweet Jude; nay, why doft thou ftay?
Dum. For the latter end of his name.

Biron. For the Afs to the Jude; give it him. 7ud-as,away.
Hol. This is not generous, nor gentle, nor humble.
Boyet. A light for monfieur Judas; it grows dark, he
may ftumble.

Prin. Alas! poor Machabeus, how he hath been baited! Enter Armado.

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

arms.

Dum. Tho' my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojan in refpect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector?

King. I think Hector was not fo clean timber'd.

Long. His leg is too big for Hedor.

Dum. More calf, certain.

Boyet. No; he is best indu'd in the small.

Biron. This can't be Hector.

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, cloven.

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

A man fo breathed, that certain he would fight ye
From morn 'till night, out of his pavilion.

I am that flower.

Dum. That mint.

Long.