Enter ARMADO.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.

[ARMADO converses with the KING, and delivers him a paper.]

Prie. Doth this man serve God?

Biron. Why ask you?

Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet honey mo narch: for, I protest, the school-master is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain: But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, royal couplement !

most

[Exit ARMADO. 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 Macchabaeus.

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive,

These four will change habits, and present the other five.

Biron, There is five in the first show.
King You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedgepriest, the fool, and the boy:

Abate a throw at novum; and the whole world

Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his

vein.

King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.

[Seats brought for the KING, PRINCESS, etc.

Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Enter CoSTARD arm'd, for Pompey.

Cost. I Pompey am,

Boyet. You lie, you are not he.

Cost. I Pompey am,

Boyet. With libbard's head or knee.

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

Dost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam❜d the

That oft in field,

great;

with targe and shield, did
make my foe to sweat:
I here ar

And, travelling along this coast,

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.

Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, 'I was perfect: 1 made a little fault in, great.

Biron. My hat to a half penny, Pompey proves the best worthy.

Enter NATHANIEL arm'd, for Alexander.

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

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

My scutcheon plain declares, that I am Ali

sander.

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 liv'd, I was the world's commander; → Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so,

Alisander.

Biron. Pompey the great,

Cost. Your servant, and Costárd.

Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away

Alisander.

Cost. O, Sir, [To NATH] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his poll-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to A-jax: he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afeard to speak run away-for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires.] There, au't shall please 'you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth, and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how is; a little o'er parted: But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey...

Enter HOLOFERNES arm'd, for Judas, and Morя arm'd, for Hercules.

1

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

headed canus;

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.

[Exit MOTH,

Hol. Judas I am,

Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir.

Dum. A Judas!

Judas I am, ycleped Machabaeus.

Dum. Judas Machabaeus clipt, is plain Judas. Biron. A kissing traitor:

Hol. Judas I am,

How art thou

prov'd Judas ?

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 follow'd: Judas was hang'd 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,

Biron. A death's face in a ring.

Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce

Boyet. The pummel of Caesar's faulchion,
Dum The carv'd bone face on a flask.

Biron. St. George's half check in a brooch, A
Dum. Ay, 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 countenance..

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, away.

Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not

humble.

Boyet. A light for Monsieur Judas:

it grows

dark, he may stumble.

Prin. Alas, poor Machabaeus, how hath he been baited!

Enter ARMADO arm'd for Hector.

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

Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, will now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of

this.

Boyet. But is this Hector?

Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd. "

Long. His leg is too big for Hector.

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.