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Biron. What, are there but three?
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
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. Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for
nine. Cost. O Lord, sir, it were pity you
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 my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the
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 some care.
[Exit CoSTARD. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not
approach. Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis
some policy To have one show worse than the king's and his
King. I say, they shall not come.
Enter ARMADO. Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence 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 school-master is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain : But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish
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. The pedant, the braggart, the hedgepriest, the fool, and the boy: Abate a throw at novum 9; and the whole world
five. Biron. There is five in the first show. King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.
again, Cannot prick 1 out five such, take each one in his
vein. King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes
Pageant of the Nine Worthies.
Enter COSTARD arm'd, for Pompey.
You lie, you are not he.
With libbard's head on knee. Biron. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be
friends with thee. Cost. 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 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. Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.
Cost. 'Tis not so much worth ; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in, great.
9 A game with dice.
1 Piek out,
Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy.
Enter NATHANIEL arm’d, 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 con
quering might: My 'scutheon 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 dismay'd: Proceed, good
Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's
commander; Boyet. Móst true, 'tis right; you were so, Ali
sander. Biron. Pompey the great, Cost.
Your servant, and Costard. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
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 pole-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to A-jax: he will be the ninth 'worthy. A conqueror, and afеard 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, 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 sort.
Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. Enter HOLOFERNES arm’d, for Judas, and Moth
arm’d, 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: Quoniam, he seemeth in minority ; Ergo, I come with this apology. Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.
Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas.
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 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
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion.