Biron. Art thou one of the Worthies?

Coft. It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion 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 fhame us; let them not approach. [Exit Coft. Biron. We are fhame-proof, my lord; and 'tis fome

policy

To have one Show worse than the King's and his Company.

King. I fay, they fhall not come.

Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you

now;

That fport beft pleafes, that doth leaft know how.
Where zeal ftrives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it prefents;

Their form, confounded, makes moft form in mirth;
When great things, labouring, perish in their birth.
Biron. A right defcription of our fport, my lord.

SCENE IX.

Enter Armado.

Arm. Anointed, I implore fo much expence of thy royal fweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. Prin. Doth this man ferve God?.

Biron. Why afk you?

1

Prin. He fpeaks not like a man of God's making. Arm. That's all one, my fair, fweet, honey monarch; for, I proteft, the fchool mafter is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain: but we will put it, as they fay, to fortuna de la guerra. I with you the peace of mind, most royal coupple

ment.

King. Here is like to be a good prefence of Worthies: he prefents Hector of Troy; the fwain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Machabeus.

And if thefe four Worthies in their firft Show thrive,
Thefe four will change habits, and prefent the other five.
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 Novum, and the whole world again, Cannot prick out five fuch, take each one in's vein. King. The fhip is under fail, and here fhe comes

Boyet. You lye, you are not he.

Coft. I Pompey am

Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee'.

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

Coft. I Pompey am, Pompey furnam'd the Big.
Dum. The Great.

Coft. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, furnam'd the Great ; That oft in field, with targe and fhield,

Did make my foe to fweat:

And travelling along this coaft, I here am come by chance; And lay my arms before the legs of this fweet Lafs of

If

France.

your ladyship would fay," thanks-Pompey," I had

done.

Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Coft. 'Tis not fo 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 Nathanael for Alexander.

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

By east, weft, north and fouth, I spread my conquering might;

My 'Scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alifander. Boyet. Your nofe fays, no, you are not; for it stands too right.

Biron. Your nofe fmells, no, in this, most tender fmelling Knight.

1 With Libbard's head on knee.] This alludes to the old heroic habits, which on the knees and

fhoulders had ufually, by way of ornament, the refemblance of a Leopard's or Lion's head.

WARBURTON.

Prin. The Conqueror is difmaid: proceed, good Alexander.

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

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were fo, Alifander. Biron. Pompey the Great,

Coft. Your fervant, and Coftard.

Biron. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alifander.

2

Coft. O Sir, you have overthrown Alifander the Conqueror. [to Nath.] You will be fcraped out of the painted cloth for this; your lion that holds the pollax fitting on a clofe-ftool, will be given to Ajax *; he will be then the ninth Worthy. A Conqueror, and afraid to fpeak? run away for fhame, Alifander. [Exit Nath.] There, an't fhall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and foon dafh'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, infooth, and a very good bowler; but for Alifander, alas, you fee, how 'tis-a little o'erparted--but there are Worthies a coming will speak their mind in fome other fort. Biron. Stand afide, good Pompey.

Enter Holofernes for Judas, and Moth for Hercules. Hol. Great Hercules is prefented by this imp,

Whofe club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, [canus ; Thus did he strangle ferpents in his manus:

Quoniam, he feemeth in minority;

Ergo, I come with this apology

[To Moth.] Keep fome ftate in thy Exit, and vanish.

Hol. Judas I am.

Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Ifcariot, Sir;

2 Alluding to the arms given

to the nine Worthies in the old and Ajakes.

Hiftory.

HANMER.

P 2

[Exit Moth.

*There is a conceit of Ajax

Judas

Judas I am, ycleped Machabeus.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas. Biron. A kiffing traitor. How art thou prev'd 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 follow'd; Judas was hang'd on an Elder.
Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.

Biron. Because thou haft 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, fcarce feen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cafar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flafk.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.
Dum. 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 counte

nance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.

Biron. Falfe; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.

Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do fo.
Boyet. Therefore, as he is an afs, let him go.
And so adieu, sweet Jude; nay, why doft thou stay?
Dum. For the latter end of his name.

Biron. For the Afs to the Jude; give it him. Jud-as,

away.

Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Boyet. A light for monfieur Judas; it grows dark, he may ftumble.

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

Enter