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vasal. The magnanimous and most illuflrate King Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelo phen; and he it was that might rightly fay, Veni, vidi, vici; which to anatomize in the vulgar, no base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, He came, faw, and overcame; he came, one; faw, tevo; overcame, three. Who came the King. Why did be come? to fee. Why did he see! to o

To whom came e? to the beggar. What saw he? the beggar. Who overcame he? the beggar. The conclufion is vilory; on whose side? the King's; the captive is enrich'd: on whose fide? the beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose fide? the King's: no, on toth in one, or one in both. I am the King, (for so stands the comparison;) thou the beggar, for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I inforce thy love? I could. Shall I intreat thy love? I will. What fhalt thou exchange for rags? robes ; for tittles? titles: for thyself? me. Thus expedling thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy pi&ure, and my heart on thy every part. Thine in the dearest design of industry,

Don Adriano de Ar made.

Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar

'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standeft as his prey; Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play. But if thou strive, (poor soul,) what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den. Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this

letter? What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear

better? Boyet. I am much deceived, but I remember the style. Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it ere

while. Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in

court, A phantasm, a monarcho, and one that makes sport To the Prince, and his book-mates.

Prin. Thou, fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter?

Coft. I told you; my Lord.

.
Prin. To whom should'st thou give it?
Coft. From my Lord to my Lady.
Prin. From which Lord to which Lady?

Coft. From my Lord Biron, a good master of mine,
To a Lady of France, that he cali'd Rosaline.
Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, Lords,

away. Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another day *

.

[Exit Princess attended. VOL. II.

P

SCENE

another day:
Boyet. Who is the shooter? who is the shooter?
Rof. Shall I teach you to know?
Boyet Ay, my continent of beauty.
Rof. Why, she that bears the bow. Finely put off.

Boyet. My Lady goes to kill horns: but if thou marry,
Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on.

Ros. Well then, I am the shooter. · Boyet. And who is your deer?

Roj. If we chuse by horns, yourseif; come not near. Finely put on, indeed. Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the

brow, Boyet. But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now?

Rof. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pippen of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Rof. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it ; Thou canst not hit it, my good man.

(Singing. Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot ; An I cannot, anot ber can.

[Exit ROS Cost By my troth, most pleasant; how both did fit it. Mar. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it.

Boyet. A mark? O, mark but that mark! a mark, says my Lady; Let the mark have a prick in't; to mete at, if it may be.

Mar. Wide o' th' bow-hand; i' fáith, your hand is out.
Cost. Indeed, a'must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.
Boyet. An if my hand be out, then, belike, your hand is in.
Coft. Then will she get the upshot by cleaving the pin.
Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.
Cost. She's too hard for you at pricks, Sir, challenge her to bowl
Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; good night, my good owl.

[Exeunt all but Costard.

[Co foto

SCENE II.

Enter Dull, Holofernes, and Sir Nathaniel. Nath. Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was (as you know) sanguis, in blood, ripe as a pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cælo, the sky, the welkin, the heav'n; and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, Master Holofernes, the epíthets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least. But, Sir, I assure

ye, it was a buck of the first head.
Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.
Dull. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Most barbarous intimation; yet a kind of infinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication; facere, as it were, replication: or rather, oftentare, show, as it were, his inclination; after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or rathereft unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull. I said, the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.

Hol. Twice fod simplicity, bis coclus; O thou monster Ignorance, 'how deformed doft thou look?

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in a book. He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts; and such barren plants are set before us, that we thank

ful Cost. By my soul, a swain; a rost simple clown! Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O' my troth, most sweet jefts, most in-cony vulgar wit, When it comes so smoothly off, fo obscenely; as it were, so fit, Armado o' th' one side, -0, a most dainty man; To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan. To see him kiss his hand, and how moft sweetly he will swear; And his page o't'other side, that handful of wit: Ah, heav'ns! it is a most pathctical nic.

[Exit Costard. [Shooting within.

ful should be for those parts (which we taste and feel ingradare) that do fructify in us, more than he. For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or

a fool; So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a

school. But omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind, Many can brook the weather, that love not the wind. . Dull. You two are book-men; can you tell by your

wit, What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five

weeks old as yet? Hol. Dictyana, good-man Dull; Di&tynna, good man Dull.

Dull. What is Dietynna?"
Nath. A title to Phæbe, to Luna, to the Moon.
Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam was

no more:

And raught not to five weeks, when he came to five

score. Th'allufion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collufion holds in the ex. change.

Hol. God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. And I say, the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside, that 'twas a pricket that the Princess kill'd.

Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? and to humour the ignorant, I have call'd the deer the Princess kill'd, a pricket.

Nath. Perge, good Mafter Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility:

Hol. I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility.

The praiseful Princess piered and prickt

A pretty pleasing prickets
Some fay, a fore; but not a fore,
Till now made fore with

booting,
The dogs did yell; put L to fore,
Then forel jumpt from thicket ;

Or pricket

fore, or else forel,
The people fall a hooting.
If fore be fore, then L to fore

Makes fifty fores of forel.
Of one fore I an hundred make,

By adding but one more L.
Nath. A rare talent!

Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hal. This is a gift that I have, fimple, fimple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehenfions, motions, revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occafion; but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Nath. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners; for their fons are well tutor’d by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you; you are a good member of the commonwealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their fons be ingenions, they shall want no instruction : if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them. But vir fapit, qui pauca loquitur ; a foul feminine faluteth us.

SCENE III. Enter Jaquenetta, and Coftard. . Jaq. God give you good morrow, Master Parfon *. Good Master Parson, be so good as read me this letter; it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho; I beseech you, read it. [Nath. reads to himself. Hol. Faufte, precor, gelida quando pecus omne fub umbra

Ruminat,

Master Parfon. Hol. Master Parfon, quafi Person. And if one should be pierc'd, which is the one?

Coft. Marry, Mafter Schoolmafter, he that is likelt to a hogfhead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead, a good luftre of conceit in a turf of earth, fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swire: "Tis pretty, it is well.

Jaq. Good Master, &c.

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