Biron. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have

done.

Enter Costard.

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 thrice is nine.
Cost. Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope,
it is not so:

You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know:

I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,— Biron. Is not nine. Cost. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount. [nine. Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for 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 show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man, in one poor man; Pompion the great, sir. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?

Cost. 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.

Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take [Exit Costard.

some care.

proach.

King. Biron, they will shame us, let them not ap[some policy Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 't is To have one show worse than the king's and his King. I say, they shall not come. [company. 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
Die 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 expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.

[Armado converses with the King, and delivers him a paper. 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 exceedingly 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, most royal couplement ! [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 Machabæus.

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other Biron. There is five in the first show. [five. King. You are deceiv'd, t is not so.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and the boy :Abate a throw at novum ; and the whole world again Cannot pick 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, &c.

Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Enter Costard, armed, for Pompey.

Cost. "I Pompey am,”-
Boyet.

Cost. "I Pompey am,"-.
Boyet.

You lie, you are not he.

With libbard's head on knee.

Biron. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee. [big," [great;

Cost. "I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Dum. The great.

Cost. It is great, sir;-" Pompey surnam'd the That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat : [chance; And travelling along this coast, I here am come by And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France." [had done. If your ladyship would say, "Thanks, Pompey,” I Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Cost. 'T is not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in “great.”

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

Enter Nathaniel, armed, for Alexander. Nath. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;

By cast, 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 tendersmelling knight. [Alexander. Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, good Nath. "When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander ;"

Boyet. Most true, 't is right; you were so, Ali-
Biron. Pompey the great,-
[sander.

Cost.
Your servant, and Costard.
Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Ali-
sander.

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, an 't shall please you; a foolish mild man ; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, in sooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see how 't is ;-a little o'erparted :-But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort,

Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter Holofernes for Judas, and Moth for Hercules. Hol." Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cereberus, 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;

Jud-as, away.

Hol. This is not generous; not gentle; not humble. Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark, he my stumble. [baited!

Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been

Enter Armado, armed, for Hector. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms.

Dum. Though 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?

Dum. I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.

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 alGave Hector a gift,"

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.

[mighty,

Biron. A lemon.

Long. Stuck with cloves. Dum. No, cloven. Arm. Peace!

"The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion:

A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea, From morn till night, out of his pavilion.

I am that flower,"—

sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the Princess] bestow on me the sense of hearing.

[Biron whispers Cost. Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.

Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.

Dum. He may not by the yard.

Arm. "This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,”— Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?

Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she 's quick; the child brags in her belly already; 't is yours.

Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipped, for Jaquenetta that is quick by him; and hanged, for Pompey that is dead by him.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!

Boyet. Renowned Pompey !

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey, the huge!

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is moved :-More Ates, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on!

Dum. Hector will challenge him.

Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in 's belly than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword :-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.

Dum. Most resolute Pompey!

[lower.

Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation.

Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.

Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the challenge.

Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Biron. What reason have you for 't?

Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a dishclout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour.

Enter Mercade.

Mer. God save you, madam!
Prin. Welcome, Mercade;

But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.

Mer. I am sorry, madain; for the news I bring Is heavy in my tongue. The king, your fatherPrin. Dead, for my life.

Mer. Even so; my tale is told.

Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to

cloud.

Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies.

King. How fares your majesty?
Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.

M

[lords,

King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say.-I thank you, gracious For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide, The liberal opposition of our spirits: If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath, your gentleness Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue : Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain'd.

King. The extreme part of time extremely form
All causes to the purpose of his speed;
And often, at his very loose, decides

That which long process could not arbitrate:
And though the morning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,

The holy suit which fain it would convince;
Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it

From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost,
Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;

And by these badges understand the king.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time;
Play'd foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-
As love is full of unbefitting strains;
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of stray shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance:
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true

To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.

Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
Your favours, the embassadors of love;
And, in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time:
But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.

Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.

Long. So did our looks.

Ros. We did not quote them so. King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves.

Prin. A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in : No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much, Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore this,If for my love (as there is no such cause} You will do aught, this shall you do for me : Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed

To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Remote from all the pleasures of the world; There stay, until the twelve celestial signs Have brought about their annual reckoning : If this austere insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation

For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

King. If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!

Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me? Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Kath. A wife!-A beard, fair health, and honesty ; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.

Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Kath. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and a day I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say: Come when the king doth to my lady come, Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. Long. What says Maria?

Mar. At the twelvemonth's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long. Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me, Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there; Impose some service on me for thy love.

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Biron, Before I saw you and the world's large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks ; Full of comparisons and wounding flouts; Which you on all estates will execute, That lie within the mercy of your wit: To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, (Without the which I am not to be won,) You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavour of your wit, To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of It cannot be; it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

[death?

Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,

Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue them,
And I will have you, and that fault withal;
But, if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation,

Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will befal, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.

Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave. [To the King.

King. No, madam, we will bring you on your way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy.

King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a And then 't will end. [day,

Biron.

That's too long for a play.

Enter Armado.

Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,-
Prin. Was not that Hector?

Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.

Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? it should have followed in the end of our show.

King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Arm. Holla! approach.

Enter Holofernes, Nathaniel, Moth, Costard, and others.

This side is Hiems, winter; This Ver, the spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.

SONG.

I.

Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white,

And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ;