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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.

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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 SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I lived, 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 too right.

Biron. Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I lived, I was the
world's commander,-

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 Alisander.

Cost. [To Sir Nath.] O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror ! You will be

568, 569 Alexander's head was traditionally said to be obliquely placed on his shoul

570

ders, and his body to have a sweet smell.

scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-axe sitting on a close- 580 stool, will be given to Ajax: 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 ; an honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbour, faith, 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, for Judas; and MOTH,
for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed
canis ;

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.
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.

Judas I am,Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.

Judas I am, ycliped Maccabæus. Dum. Judas Maccabæus

579. the painted cloth, the wall-hangings on which Alexander and the other Worthies were frequently painted. Alexander's arms are described in the book of the Nine Worthies as

[Moth retires.

clipt is plain Judas.

590

600

·

containing a lion or seyant in a chair, holding a battle-axe argent. Costard gives a coarser turn to the expression, carried on in the quibble upon Ajax.

602. ycliped, yclept, called.

Biron. A kissing traitor.
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 followed: Judas was hanged 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.

How art thou proved

Biron. A Death's face in a ring.

Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce

seen.

Boyet. The pommel of Cæsar's falchion.

Dum. The carved-bone face on a flask.

Biron. Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch. 620 Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a toothdrawer.

And now forward; for we have put thee in coun

tenance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Biron. False; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-faced 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.

614. cittern - head, from the grotesque head commonly carved at the end of the neck of the

cittern, or guitar.

619. flask, powder-horn.
620. half-cheek, profile.

610

630

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.
[Hol. retires.
Prin. Alas, poor Maccabæus, how hath he
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 Troyan in respect of

this.

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Boyet. But is this Hector?

King. I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.

Long. His leg is too big for Hector's.

Dum. More calf, certain.

Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small.

Biron. This cannot 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.

Dum. No, cloven.

Arm. Peace!

650

The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,

640. Troyan, a rogue or vaga- 642. clean-timbered, well-built.

bond.

650. lances, lancers.

Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;

A man so breathed, that certain he would fight;

yea

From morn till night, out of his pavilion. I am that flower,—

Dum.

Long.

That columbine. Arm. Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.

That mint.

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 breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my device. [To the Princess] 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. [Aside to Dum.] Loves her by the

foot.

Dum. [Aside to Boyet] He may not by the yard.

Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?

Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already: 'tis yours.

Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him.

659. breathed, in full vigour.

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670

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