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Coft. Olord, Sir, they would know
Biron. What, are there but three?
Coft. No, Sir, but it is vara fine;
Biron. And three times thrice is nine?
Coft. 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, Sir
Biron. Is not nine.
Coft. Under correction, Sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
Biron. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
Coft. O lord, Sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, Sir.
Biron. How much is it?
Coft. 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, Şir.
Biron. Art thou one of the Worthies ?
Coft. 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.
Coft. 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 To have one Show worse than the King's and his Com
Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you now;
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Enter Armado. Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words.
Prin. Doth this man serve God?
Arm. That's all one, my fair sweet honey monarch; for, I proteft, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain: but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal cupplement.
King. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies : he presents Heator 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 five.
Biron. There are five in the first Show.
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 fail, and here the comes amain.
Enter Coftard for Pompey.
(49) with Libbard's head on knee.] This alludes to those oldfashion d Garments, upon the Knees and Elbows of which it was frequent to have, by way of Ornament, a Leopard's, or Lion's head. 'This Accoutrement che French calld Une Masquine.
Biron. Well said, old mocker: I must needs be. friends with thee.
Coft. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big.
Did make my fue 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 beft Worthy.
Enter Nathaniel for Alexander.
too right. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender (mel
Biron. Take away the Conqueror, take away Alifander.
Coft. O Sir, you have overthrown Alisander the Conqueror. [to Nath.] You will be scraped out of the paint
ed cloth-for this; your lion, that holds the poll-ax sito
Biron. Stand aside, good Pompey.
Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus ;
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus :
Hol. Judas I am.
Hol. Not Iscariot, Sir;
Dum. Judas Machabeus clipt, is plain Judas.
prov'd Judas ?
(50) Your Lion that holds the poll-ax fitting on a Clofestool,] Alexander the Great, as one of the Nine Worthies, bears Gules; a Lion, Or, feiant in a Chair, holding a Battle-axe argent. Vid. Ger. Leigh's Acci. dence of Armouries.. But why, becaufe Nathaniel had behav'd ill as Alexander, was that Worthy's Lion and Poll-axe to be given to Ajax? Coftard, the Clown, has a Conceit in This very much of a Piece with his Character. The Name of Ajax is equivocally us’d by him; and he means, the Infignia of such a Conqueror, as the Curate exhibited in his wretched Representation, ought to be given to a Jakes ; --- fit Verbo Reverentia! The same fort of Conundrum is used by B. Jonson at the Close of his Poem, callid, The famous Voyage.
And I could wish, for their eterniz'd fakes,
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
Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
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,
stumble. Prin. Alas! poor Machabeus, how he hath been baited!
Enter Armado. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector in arms.
Dum. Tho' my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.