Enter Costard.

Welcome, pure wit, thou partest a fair fray,
Coft. 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 thrice is nine?

Coft. 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, SirBiron. Is not nine.

Coft. Under correction, Sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.

Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Coft. O lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir.

Biron. How much is it?

Coft. 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 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 some care.

King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not approach. [Exit Cost. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis some policy

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

pany.

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.

८

Where

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.
Enter Armado.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much 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. Arm. That's all one, my fair sweet honey monarch; for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; 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 cupplement.

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

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest,

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 she comes amain.

Enter Costard for Pompey.

Coft. I Pompey am-
Boyet. You lye, you are not he.
Coft. I Pompey am -

Boyet. With Libbard's head on knee. (49)

(49) with Libbard's head on knee.] This alludes to those oldfashion'd Garments, upon the Knees and Elbows of which it was frequent to have, by way of Ornament, a Leopard's, or Lion's head. This Accoutrement the French call'd Une Masquine.

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

friends with thee.

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

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.

Σ

;

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 South, I spread my conquering might:

My 'Scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander.

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 Alexander.

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

Boyet. Moft true, 'tis right; you were so, Alifander. Biron. Pompey the Great,

Coft. Your servant and Coftard.

Biron. Take away the Conqueror, take away AliSander.

Coft. O Sir, you have overthrown Alifander the Conqueror. [to Nath.] You will be scraped out of the paint

ed

:

1

ed cloth for this; your lion, that holds the poll-ax fitting on a close-stool (ro), will be given to A-jax; he will be then the ninth Worthy. A Conqueror, and afraid to speak? run away for shame, Alifander. There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and foon dash'd. He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth, 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 canus,
And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Thus did he strangle ferpents 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.

Dum. A Judas !

Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir;

Judas I am, ycleped Machabeus.

Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.

Biron. A kifsing traitor. How art thou prov'd Judas?
Hol. Judas I am..

Dum. The more shame for you, Judas.

(50) Your Lion that holds the poll-ax fitting on a Closestool,] Alexander the Great, as one of the Nine Worthies, bears Gules; a Lion, Or, seiant in a Chair, holding a Battle-axe argent. Vid. Ger. Leigh's Accidence of Armouries..-------- But why, because Nathaniel had behav'd ill as Alexander, was that Worthy's Lion and Poll-axe to be given to Ajax ? Coftard, the Clown, has a Conceit in This very much of Piece with his Character. The Name of Ajax is equivocally us'd by him; and he means, the Infignia of such a Conqueror, as the Curate exhibited in his wretched Representation, ought to be given to a Jakes; --- fit Verbo Reverentia! The fame fort of Conundrum is used by B. Jonfon at the Close of his Poem, call'd, The famous Voyage.

And I could wish, for their eterniz'd fakes,
My Muse had plow'd with his that fung A-jax.

a

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 seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Casar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flask.

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

Biron. And thou wert a lion, we would do fo.
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 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 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.

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector?

King. I think, Hector was not so clean timber'd.

Long.