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For the lord's tokens on you both I see.
Prin. No, they are free, that gave these tokens

to us.
Biron. Our states are forfeit, seek not to undo us.

Rof. It is not so; for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that fue?
Biron, Peace, for I will not have to do with

Rof. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
Biron Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end.
King. Teach us, sweet Madam, for our rude trans-

gression Some fair excuse.

Prin. The faireft is confeffion.
Were you not here, but even now, disguis'd ?

King. Madam, I was.
Prin. And were you well advis'd ?
King. I was, fair Madam,

Prin. When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
King. That more than all the world I did respect

her. Prin. When the shall challenge this, you will re

ject her.

King. Upon mine honour, no.
Prin. Peace, peace,

forbear: Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.

King. Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.

Prin. I will, and therefore keep it. Rosaline, What did the Ruffian whisper in your ear?

Rof. Madam, he swore, that he did hold me dear As precious eye-fight; and did value me Above this world ; adding thereto, moreover, That he would wed me, or else die


lover, Prin. God give thee joy of him! the noble lord Most honourably doth uphold his word. King. What mean you, Madam? by my life, my

troth, I never swore this lady such an oath.


Ros. By heav'n, you did; and to confirm it plain, You gave me this : but take it, Sir, again. King. My faith, and this, to th' Princess

. I did give; I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Prin. Pardon me, Sir, this jewel did she wear:
And lord Biron, I thank him, is my Dear.
What? will you have me; or your pearl again?

Biron. Neither of either : I remit both twain.
I see the trick on't; here was a consent,
(Knowing aforehand of our merriment)
To dash it, like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher knight, some

That * smiles his cheek in years, and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,
Told our intents before; which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change Favours, and then we,
Following the signs, wood but the sign of she:
Now to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn: in will, and error.
Much upon this it is.-Andmight not You (To Boyet.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue ?
Do not you know my lady's foot by th' squier,

And laugh upon the apple of her eye,
And stand between her back, Sir, and the fire,

Holding a trencher, jefting merrily?
You put our Page out: go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shrowd.
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

Boyet. Full merrily
Hath this brave Manage, this career, been run.
Biron. Lo, he is tilting strait. Peace, I have done.

-- fmiles his cheek in years, --] Mr. Theobald says, he cannot, for his Heart, comprehend the Sense of this Phrase. It was not his Heart but his Head that stood in his Way. In Years, fignifies, into Wriokles. So in The Merchant of Venice,

Witń mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
Vol. II.



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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 ?

Coft. No, Sir, but it is vara fine; For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times three 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, three times thrice, SirBiron. Is not nine.

Coft. Under corredion, Sir, we know where until it doth amount.

Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.

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 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 !

Cost. It pleased them to think me worthy of Ponipion 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 some care.

King. Biron, they will shame us; let them not approach.

Exit Coit. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis

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

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.
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.

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Enter Armado.

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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 i fantaltical; too, too vain; too, too vain : but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you ihe peace of mind, most royal coupplement.

King. Here is like to be a good presence of Wor-
thies : 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

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 sail, and here she comes


Enter Costard for Pompey.
Cost. I Pompey am-
Boyet. You lie, you are not he.
Cost. I Pompey am-
Boyet. * With Libbard's head on knee.

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

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

Cost. It is Great, Sir; Pompey, surnam'd the Great ; That oft in field, with targe and field,

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. 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, weft, north and south, I spread my conquering

might: My 'Scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alifander. Boyet. Your nofe says, no, you are not; for it

stands too right. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, moft tender

smelling Knight. Prin. The Conqueror is dismaid: proceed, good

Alexander. * 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.


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