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Coft. I Pompey am-
Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends with thee.
Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big.
Coft. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, surnam'd the Great;
Did make my foe to sweat:
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.
stands too right. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender
3 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.
Boyet. Most true, 'tis right ; you were so, Alifander.
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 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 Alisander, 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 serpents in his manus :
Hol. Judas I am.
Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir;
Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
Hol. What mean you, Sir ?
Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer ; And now, forward; for we have put thee in counte
Boyet. Therefore as he is an ass, let him go.
Dum. For the latter end of his name.
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 Machabeus, how he hath been baited!
Enter Armado. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Heator
Dun. Tho' my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Arm. The armipotent Mars, of launces the Almighty, Gave Hector a gift,
Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
From morn 'till night, out of his pavilion.
Dum. That mint.
Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector. Dum. Ay, and He&or's a grey-hound.
Arm. The sweet War-man is dead and rotten;
: ; Siweet Royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.
Prin. Speak, brave Heator ; we are much delighted,
she is two months on her way.
Arm. What mean’ft thou?
Coft. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is caft away; she's quick, the child brags in her belly already. 'Tis
Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among Potentates? Thou shalt die.
Coft. Then shall Hestor be whipt for Jaquenetta, that is quick by him; and hang'd for Pompey, that is dead by him.
Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Biron, Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!
Dum. HeEtor trembles.
Biron. Pompey is mov'd; more Ates, more Ates; ftir them on, stir them on.
Dum. Heator 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.
Coft. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man : I'll slash; I'll do't by the Sword: I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.
Dum. Room for the incensed Worthies.
Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower. Do ye 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
shirt. Dum. You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge.
Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.