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Biron. A death's face in a ring.
Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer: And now, forward; for we have put thee in counte.
Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go.
Dum. For the latter end of his name.
dark, he may stumble. Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been
Enter Armado arm'd, for Hector. ·'Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles : here comes Hector in arms.
Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will Row be merry,
King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this,
• A soldier's powder-horn. + An ornamental-buckle for fastening bat-bands,
Biron. This cannot be Heetor.
mighty, Gade Hector a gift.
Dum. A gilt nutmeg.
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
Long, I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector
Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried : when he breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the Priucess.) bestow on me the sense of hearing
[Biron whispers Costard. Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much de
Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two mnopths on her way.
Arm. What meanest thou ?
the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brays in her belly already; 'tis yours. Arm. Dost thou infamonise me ainong poten
tates ? thou shalt die. Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaque. netta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey that is dead by him.
Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!
Dum. Hector trembles.
Biron. Pompey is mov'di-More Ates*, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on !
Dum. Hector will challenge him.
Biron. Ay, if lie have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea,
Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern mant; l'll slash; I'll do it by the sword :-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.
Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Moth. Master, let me take you a button hole lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? you will lose your reputation.
Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me: I will not combat in my shirt.
Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the challenge.
Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will..
Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward t for penance.
Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome
+ A clown.
* Até was the goddess of discord..
I Clothed in wool, without linen. VOL. II.
for want of linen : since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a Uish clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart; fór a favour.
Mer. God save you, madam!
Prin. Wecome, Mercade;
Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring, Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father
Prin. Dead, for my life.
Mer. Even so; my tale is told. * Piron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud.
Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.
(Eseunt Worthies, King. How fares your majesty ? Prin. Boyet, prepare; I'will away to-night. King. Madam; not so; I do beseech you, stay.
Prin. Prepare, 'I say.- I thank you, gracious lords, For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide, The liberal* opposition of our spirits : If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath, your gentleness Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not an hunible tongue : Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtaip'd.
King: The extreme parts of time extremely form All causes to the purpose of his speed; And often, at his very loose, decides That which long process could not arbitrate: And though the mourning brow of progeny
• Free to excess.
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,
Prin. I understand you not: my griefs are double.
Prin. We have receiv'd your letters full of love; Your favours the embassadors of love; And, in our maiden council, rated them At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy, As bombast, and as lining to the time: ,