169 vaffal. The magnanimous and most illuftrate King Cophetua fet eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly fay, Veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, (0 bafe and obfcure vulgar!), videlicet, He came, faw, and overcame: he came, one; faw, two; overcame, three. Who came? the King. Why did he come? to fee. Why did he fee! to overcome. To whom came he? to the beggar. What farw he? the beggar. Who overcame he? the beggar. The conclufion is victory; on whofe fide? the King's; the captive is inrich'd: on whofe fide? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whofe fide? the King's: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the King, (for fo ftands the comparison); thou the beggar, for fo witneffeth thy lowlinefs. Shall I com

and thy love? I may. Shall I inforce thy love? I could. Shall I intreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags ? robes; for tittles? titles: for thyfelf? me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.

Thine in the deareft defign of industry,

Don Adriano de Armado.

Thus doft thou hear the Nemean lion roar

'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standeft as his prey; Submiffive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play.

But if thou strive, (poor foul), what art thou then? Food for his rage, repafture for his den.

Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this

letter?

What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?

Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the ftyle. Prin. Elfe your memory is bad, going o'er it ere while.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in

court,

A phantafm, a monarcho, and one that makes sport To the Prince, and his book-mates.

Prin. Thou, fellow, a word:

VOL. II.

P

Who gave thee this letter?

Coft. I told you; my Lord.

Prin. To whom should'st thou give it ?
Coft. From my Lord to my Lady.

Prin. From which Lord to which Lady?

Coft. From my Lord Berown, a good mafter of mine, To a Lady of France, that he call'd Rofaline.

Prin. Thou haft mistaken his letter. Come, Lords,

away.

Here, fweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day*. [Exit Princess attended.

- another day.

Boyet. Who is the fhooter? who is the fhooter?
Rof. Shall I teach you to know?

Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty,

Rof. Why, the that bears the bow. Finely put off. Boyet. My Lady goes to kill horns: but if thou marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year mifcarry.

Finely put on.

Rof. Well then, I am the shooter.

Boyet. And who is your deer?

Rof. If we chufe by horns, yourself; come not near.

Finely put on, indeed.

Mar. You ftill wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the

brow.

Boyet But the herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now?

Rof. Shall I come upon thee with an old faying, that was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it? Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Rof. Thou can't not hit it, hit it, hit it;

Thou can't not bit it, my good man.

Boyet. An' I cannot, cannot, cannot;

An' I cannot, another can.

[Singing,

[Exit. Rof.

Coft. By my troth, most pleasant; how both did fit it. Mar. A mark marvellous well fhot; for they both did hit it. Boyet. A mark? O, mark but that mark! a mark, fays my Lady; Let the mark have a prick in't; to meet at, if it be. may Mar. Wide o' th' bow-hand; i'faith, your hand is out. Coft. Indeed, a'must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout. Boyet. An' if my hand be out, then, belike, your hand is in. Coft. Then will the get the upfhot by cleaving the pin. Mar. Come, come, you talk greafily; your lips grow foul. Coft. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir, challenge her to bowl. Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night, my good owl. Exeunt all but Costard.

Enter Dull, Holofernes, and Sir Nathaniel.

Nath. Very reverend fport, truly; and done in the teftimony of a good confcience.

Hol. The deer was (as you know) fanguis, in blood; ripe as a pomwater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cælo, the sky, the welkin, the heav'n; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra, the foil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, Mafter Holofernes, the epithets are fweetly varied, like a scholar at the leaft. But, Sir, I affure ye, it was a buck of the first head.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Moft barbarous intimation; yet a kind of infinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication; facere, as it were, replication; or rather, oftentare, to fhow, as it were, his inclination; after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or ra ther unlettered, or rathereft unconfirmed fashion, to infert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I faid, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice fod fimplicity, bis cotus; O thou monfter Ignorance, how deformed doft thou look?

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in a book. He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an animal, only fenfible in the duller parts; and fuch barren plants are fet before us, that we thank

Coft. By my foul, a swain; a mest simple clown!

Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!
O'my troth, moft fweet jefts, most in-cony vulgar wit,
When it comes fo smoothly off, fo obfcenely; as it were, so fit.
Armado o' th' one fide,- -O, a molt dainty man;

To fee him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan.
To fee him kifs his hand, and how moft fweetly he will fwear;
And his page o' t' other fide, that handful of wit:
Ah, heav'ns! it is a moft pathetical nit.

[Exit. Coftard.

[Shooting within

ful fhould be for thofe parts (which we tafte and feel, ingradare) that do fructify in us, more than he.

For as it would ill become me to be vain, indifcreet, or a fool;

So were there a patch fet on learning, to see him in a fchool.

But omne bene, fay I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind.. Dull. You two are book-men; can you tell by your wit,

What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol. Dictynna, good-man Dull; Dictynna, good man Dull.

Dull. What is Dictynna?

Nath. A title to Phœbe, to Luna, to the Moon.

Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam was

no more:

And rought not to five weeks, when he came to fivefcore.

Th' allufion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true, indeed; the collufion holds in the exchange.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I fay, the allufion holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I fay, the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old; and I fay befide, that 'twas a pricket that the Princefs kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the Princefs kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge; so it fhall please you to abrogate fcurrility..

Hol. I will fomething affect the letter; for it argues facility.

The praifeful Princefs pierc'd and pričkt
A pretty pleafing pricket;

Some fay, a fore; but not a fore,
Till now made fore with Jhooting.
The dogs did yell; put L to fore,
Then forel jumpt from thicket:

Or pricket fore, or else forel,
The people fall a hooting..
If fore be fore, then L to fore
Makes fifty fores of forel.
Of one fore I an hundred make,
By adding but one more L.

Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, fimple, fimple; a foolish extravagant fpirit, full of forms, figures, fhapes, objects, ideas, apprehenfions, motions, revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occafion; but the gift is good in thofe in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and fo may my parishioners; for their fons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you; you are a good member of the commonwealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their fons be ingenuous, they fhall want no inftruction: if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But vir fapit, qui pauca loquitur; a foul feminine faluteth us.

SCENE III. Enter Jaquenetta, and Coftard.

Faq. God give you good morrow, Mafter Parfon * Good Mafter Parfon, be fo good as read me this letter;. it was given me by Coftard, and fent me from Don Ar-matho; I beseech you, read it. [Nath. reads to himself. Hol. Faufte, precor, gelida quando pecus. omne fub

umbra

-Mafter Parfon.

Hol. Mafter Parfon, quafi Perfon. And if one fhould be pierc'd which is the one?

Coft.. Marry, Mafter Schoolmaster, he that is likeft to a hogf

head.

Hol. Of piercing a Hogfhead, a good luftre of conceit in a tur£ of earth, fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a fwine: 'Tis pretty, it is well.

Jag. Good Master, &a