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Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline · Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come,

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

[Erit Princess and Train. Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor? Ros.

Shall I teach you to know! Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty. Ros.

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? Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself: come

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? Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when king Pepin 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 Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it. Ros. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it. [Singing.

Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
Boyet. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can.

[Exeunt Ros. and Kath. 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! 0, 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' the bow hand! l’faith 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. Cost. 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; chal

lenge her to bowl, Boyet. I fear too much rubbing; Good night, my good owl.

[Ereunt Boyet and Maria. Cost. By my soul a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, lord! how the ladies and I have put him down! O’my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar

wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it

were, so fit. Armatho o' the 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 most sweetly a'

will swear! And his page o' t'other side, that handful of wit! Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit ! Sola, Sola!

[Shouting within. [Erit Costard, running.

'

SCENE II.

The same.

Enter Holofernes, Sir Nathaniel, and Dull.

Nath. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testiinony of a good conscience.

Hol. The deer was, as you know, in sanguis, blood; ripe as a pomewater*, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of cælo,--the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anou falleth like a crab, on the face of terra,--the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath. Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets 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 insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were, replication, or, rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, bis inclination, after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirnied 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 sod simplicity, bis coctus !--O thon monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look !

Nath. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not cat paper as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenish. ed; he is only an animal, only sensible in the doller parts;

• A species of apple.

And such barreri plants are set before us, that we

thankful should be (Which we of taste and feeling are) for those parts

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. Dictyona, good man Dull; Dictyuna, good

man Dull. • Dull. What is Dictyona? Nath. A title to Phæbe, to Luna, to the moon. Hol. The moon was a month old, when Adam

was no more; And raughtt not to five weeks, when he came to

fivescore. The allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull. 'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.

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

Dull. And I say the pollution holds in the ex. change; for the moon is never but a month old : and I say beside, that 'twas a prieket that the princess killd.

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 master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

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

• A low fellow. + Reached.

SC.

The praiseful princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty

pleasing pricket; Some say, a sure; but not a sore, till now made

sore with shooting, The dogs did yell; put l to sore, then sorel jumps

from thicket; Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a

hooting. If sore be sore, then I to sore makes fifty sores ; 0

sore L; of one sore I an hundred make, by udding but

one more L. Nath. A rare talent! · Dull. If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hol. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, re. volutions : these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia water; and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion : 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 sons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly un. der you: you are a good member of the commonwealth.

Hol. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction : if their daughters be ca. pable, I will put it to them: But, vir sapit, qui pauca loquitur: a soul feminine saluteth us.

Enter Jaquenetta and Costard.

Jaq. God give you good morrow, master person.

Hol. Master parson,-quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one ?

Cost. Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.

Hol. Of piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of

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