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For the lord's tokens on you both I see.
Ros. It is not so; for how can this be true,
greffion Some fair excuse.
Prin. The faireít is confession.
King. Madam, I was.
Prin. When you then were here,
her. Prin. When she shall challenge this, you will re
King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin. Peace, peace, forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.
Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Rosaline, Whạt did the Russian whisper in your ear?
Rof. Madam, he fwore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-sight; and did value me Above this world, adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die
my lover. Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Molt honourably doth uphold his word. king. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my
troth, I never swore this lady such an oath.
Rof. By heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this : but take it, Sir, again.
King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess I did give;
Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
Biron. Neither of either: I remit both twain.
Holding a trencher, jefting merrily?
Boyet. Full merrily
--Smiles his cheek in years, --] Mr. Theobald says, he cannot, for his Heart, comprehend the Sense of this Phrase. It was not his Heart but his Head that stood in his Way. In Ycars, signifies, into Wrinkles. So in The Merchant of Venice,
Witń mnirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
Cost. O lord, Sir, they would know
Biron. What, are there but three ?
Cost. No, Sir, but it is vara fine;
Biron. And three times three is nine ?
Cost. Not so, Sir, under correction, Sir; I hope, it is not fo. You cannot beg us, Sir; I can assure 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.
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 shew whereuntil it doth amount; for my own part, I am, as they say, 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 Ponpion 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.
Coft. We will turn it finely off, Sir, we will take fome care.
King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not approach.
[Exit Coit. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis
some policy To have one Show worse than the King's and his 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 Dies in the zeal of that which it presents ; Their form, confounded, makes most form in mirth; When great things, labouring, perish in their birth.
Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord.
S CE N E
Enter Armado. Arm. NOINTED, I implore so much expence
of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words,
Prin. Doth this man serve God ?
Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I proteft, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantaltical; too, too vain; too, too vain : but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal coupplement.
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 Machabeus. And if these four Worthies in their first Show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other
the fool, and the boy. A bare throw at Novum, and the whole world again Cannot prick out five such, take each one in's vein. King. The ship is under fail, and here the comes amain. Q:
Enter Coltard for Pompey.
* With Libbard's head on knee, Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee.
Cost. I Pompey am, Pompeysurnam'd the Big.
Coft. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, surnam`d the Great; That oft in field, with targe and shield,
Did make my foe to sweat : 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.
Coft. 'Tis not so 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 east, west, north and fouth, I spread my conquering
might: My 'Scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alifander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it
stands too right. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, moft tender
smelling Knight. Prin. The Conqueror is dismaid: proceed, good
Alexander. * With Libbard's head on knee.] This alludes to the old heroic Habits, which on the Knees and Shoulders had usually, by Way of Ornament, the Resemblance of a Leopard's or Lion's Head.