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Enter Coftard.
Welcome, pure wit, thou partest a fair fray,

Cost, o lord, Sir, they would know
Whether the three Worthies shall come in, or no.

Biron. What, are there but three ?

Cost. No, Sir, but it is vara fine;
For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times three is nine ?

Cost. Not so, Sir, under corredion, 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 corre&ion, Sir, we know where until it doth amount.

Biron. By Jove, I always took three.threes for nine.

Cor. 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 Pontpion 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.

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


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Enter Armado.

I expence of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

Prin. Doth this man serve God ?
Biron. Why ask you ?
Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making.

Arni. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I protest, 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 ihe peace of mind, most royal coupplement.

King. Here is like to be a good presence of Wor-
thies: he presents He&or 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

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 Nouum, 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


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Enter Costard for Pompey.
Coft. I Pompey am-
Boyet. You lie, you are not he.
Cost.. I Pompey am
Boyet. * With Libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee.

Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big.
Dum. The Great,

Cost. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, Jurnani d the Great;
That oft in field, with targe and shield,

Did make my foe to sweat :
And travelling along this coaft, 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

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 would's

By east, west, north and south, I spread my conquering

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, most tender

smelling Knight.
Prin. The Conqueror is dismaid: proceed, good

* 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.


man, look

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

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alifander.
Biron. Pompey the Great,
Cost. Your servant, and Cofiard.

Biron. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alifander.

Cost. 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 pollax fitting on a close-stool, will be given to A-jax; he will be then the ninth Worthy. A Conqueror, and afraid to fpcak? run away for shame, Alisander. There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest


and foon dash'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, infooth, and a very good bowler; but for Alifander, alas, you see, how 'tis a little o'erparted: but there are Worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other fort.

Biron, 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

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 vanilh. [Exit Moth.

Hol. Judas I am.
Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir;
Judas I am, ycleped Machabeus.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
Biron. A kissing traitor. How art thou prov'd

Hol. Judas I am.


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Dum. The more shame for you, Judas.
Hol. What mean you, Sir?
Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.
Hól. Begin, Sir, you are my elder.
Biron. Well follow'd ; Judas was hang'd on an

Mol. 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.
Biron. A death's face in a ring.
Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv’d-bone face on a flask.
· Biron. St. George's half check in a brooch.
Inni. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer;
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-fac'd 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.
Biron. For the Ass to the Jude: give it him. Jud-as

Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas; it grows dark,

he may stumble. 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


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