Nath. Laus deo, bone intelligo.

Hol. Quare Chirra, not sirrah?

Arm. Men of peace, well encounter'd. Hol. Most military sir, salutation. Moth. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. [To Costard aside. Cost. O, they have lived long in the alms-basket of words! I marvel, thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

Moth. Peace; the peal begins.

Arm. Monsieur, [To Hol.] are you not letter'd? Moth. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook What is a, b, spelt backward, with a horn on his head?

Hol. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.

Moth. Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn :-You

hear his learning.

Hol. Quis, quis, thou consonant?

Arm. Pardon, sir, error: he is not quantity enough for that worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.

Hol. Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in minority; his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.

Moth. An excellent device! so, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry well done, Hercules! now thou crushest the snake! that is the way to make an offence gracious; though few have the grace to do it, Arm. For the rest of the worthies? Hol. I will play three myself. Moth. Thrice-worthy gentleman! Arm. Shall I tell you a thing? Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I

Hol. I will repeat them, a, e, i.

Moth. The sheep: the other two concludes it; o, u, Arm. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch, a quick venew of wit: snip, snap, quick and home; it rejoiceth my intellect: true wit. Moth. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.

Hol. What is the figure? what is the figure?
Moth. Horns.

Hol. Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.

Dull, Nor understood none neither, sir.
Hol. Allons! we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a dance, or so : or I will play on the tabor to the worthies, and let them dance the hay.

Hol. Most dull, honest Dull, to our sport away.

[Exeunt.

gig.

Moth. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy circum, circa; A gig of a cuckold's horn!

Cost. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased, that thou wert but my bastard! what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.

Hol. O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem. Arm. Arts-man, præambula; we will be singled from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain? Hol. Or, mons, the hill,"

Arm. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
Hol. I do, sans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

Hol, The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the afternoon : the word is well cull'd, chose; sweet and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

Arm. Sir, the king is a noble gentleman; and my familiar, I do assure you, very good friend :-For what is inward between us, let it pass :-I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ;-I beseech thee, apparel thy head; and among other importunate and most serious designs,-and of great import, indeed, too;but let that pass :-for I must tell thee, it will please his grace (by the world) sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder; and with his royal finger, thus, dally with my excrement, with my mustachio: but sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable; some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world: but let that pass.-The very all of all is,-but, sweet heart, I do implore secrecy, that the king would have me present the princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self, are good at such eruptions, and sudden breaking out of mirth,

Princess's Pavilion.

Enter the Princess, Katharine, Rosaline, and Maria. Prin. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in: A lady wall'd about with diamonds!Look you, what I have from the loving king. Ros. Madam, came nothing else along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much love in rhyme As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper, Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all; That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name. Ros. That was the way to make his godhead wax; For he hath been five thousand years a boy. Kath. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. Ros. You'll ne'er be friends with him; he kill'a your sister.

Kath. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died: had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might have been a grandam ere she died: And so may you; for a light heart lives long.

Ros. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light Kath. A light condition in a beauty dark. [word! Ros. We need more light to find your meaning out. Kath. You'll mar the fight, by taking it in snuff; Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i'the dark. Kath. So do not you; for you are a light wench. Ros. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not,-O, that's you care not

for me.

Ros. Great reason; for, Past cure is still past care. Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd. But Rosaline, you have a favour too : Who sent it? and what is it?

Ros.

I would, you knew: An if my face were but as fair as yours, My favour were as great; be witness this. Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron: The numbers true; and, were the numb'ring too, I were the fairest goddess on the ground; I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter! Prin. Any thing like?

Ros. Much, in the letters; nothing in the praise. Prin. Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.

Kath. Fair as a text Bin a copy-book. Ros. 'Ware pencils! How let me not die your My red dominical, my golden letter. [debtor. O, that your face were not so full of O's! Kath. A pox o'that jest! and beshrew all shrows! Prin. But what was sent to you from fair Dumain? Kath. Madam, this glove, Prin.

Did he not send you twain?
Kath. Yes, madam; and moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover:
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
Mar. This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville;
The letter is too long by half a mile.
Prin. I think no less: Dost thou not wish in heart,
The chain were longer, and the letter short?
Mar. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
Prin. We are wise girls, to mock our lovers so.
Ros. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Biron I'll torture ere I go.

O, that I knew he were but in by the week!
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek;
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes;
And shape his service wholly to my behests;
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So portent-like would I o'ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate. [catch'd,
Prin. None are so surely caught, when they are
As wit turn'd fool folly, in wisdom hatch d,
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school;
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
Ros. The blood of youth burns not with such excess,
As gravity's revolt to wantonness.

Mar. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note,
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
Since all the power thereof it doth apply,
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
Boyet. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her
Prin. Thy news, Boyet?
[grace?
Boyet.
Prepare, madam, prepare !--
Arm, wenches, arm; encounters mounted are
Against your peace: Love doth approach disguis'd,
Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd:
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
Prin. Saint Dennis to saint Cupid! What are they,
That charge their breath against us? say, scont, say.
Boyet. Under the cool shade of a sycamore,

I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour:
When, lo! to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addrest
The king and his companions: warily

I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear;
That, by and by, disguis'd, they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
Action, and accent, did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy body bear:
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Presence majestical would put him out:
For, quoth the king, an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.
The boy replied, An angel is not evil;

I should have fear'd her, had she been a devil.
With that all laugh'd,and clapp'd him on the shoulder;
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubb'd his elbow, thus; and fleer'd, and swore,
A better speech was never spoke before:
Another, with his finger and his thumb,
Cry'd, Via! we will do't, come what will come :
The third he caper'd, and cry'd, All goes well:
The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
Boyet. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus,
Like Muscovites, or Russians: as I guess,
Their purpose is, to parle, to court, and dance:
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
By favours several, which they did bestow.
Prin. And will they so? the gallants shall
task'd:-
For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;

And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.-
Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear;
And then the king will court thee for his dear;
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine;
So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.-
And change you favours too; so shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.

Ros. Come on then; wear the favours most in sight.
Kath. But, in this changing, what is your intent?
Prin. The effect of my intent is, to cross theirs :
They do it but in mocking merriment:
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook; and so be mock'd withal,
Upon the next occasion that we meet,
With visages display'd, to talk, and greet.

Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? Prin. No; to the death, we will not move a foot: Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; But while 'tis spoke, each turn away her face. Boyet. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,

And quite divorce his memory from his part.

Prin. Therefore I do it; and, I make no doubt, The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out. There's no such sport, as sport by sport o'erthrown; To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own: So shall we stay, mocking intended game; And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. [Trumpets sound within. Boyet. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd, the maskers [The Ladies mask.

come.

Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in Russian Habits, and masked; Moth, Musicians, and Attendants.

Moth. All hail! the richest beauties on the earth!
Boyet. Beauties no richer than rich taffata.
Moth. A holy parcel of the fairest dames,

[The Ladies turn their Backs to him.
That ever turn'd their-backs-to mortal views!
Biron. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
Moth. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
Out-

Boyet. True; out, indeed.

Moth. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchNot to behold

Biron. Once to behold, rogue.
Moth. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,

with your sun-beamed eyes-

[safe

Boyet. They will not answer to that epithet; You were best call it, daughter-beamed eyes. Moth. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. Biron. Is this your perfectness! be gone, you rogue. Ros. What would these strangers? know their minds, If they do speak our language, 'tis our will [Boyet: That some plain man recount their purposes: Know what they would.

Boyet. What would you with the princess? Biron. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. What would they, say they?

Boyet. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation. Ros. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. Boyet. She says, you have it, and you may be gone. King. Say to her, we have measur'd many miles, To tread a measure with you on this grass. Boyet. They say, that they have measur'd many a To tread a measure with you on this grass. Ros. It is not so: ask them how many inches. Is in one mile if they have measur'd many, The measure then of one is easily told.

[mile,

Boyet. If, to come hither, you have measur'd miles, And many miles; the princess bids you tell, How many inches do fill up one mile.

Biron Tell her, we measure them by weary steps. Boyet. She hears herself.

Ros.

King. Then, in our measure do bat vouchsafe one change :

Thou bid'st me beg: this begging is not strange. Ros. Play, music, then: nay, you must do it soon. [Music plays. Not yet;-no dance :-thus change I like the moon. King. Will you not dance? How come you thus [chang'd. estrang'd? Ros. You took the moon at full; but now she's King. Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. Ros. Our ears vouchsafe it. King. But your legs should do it. Ros. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,

We'll not be nice: take hands ;-we will not dance. King. Why take we hands then?

Ros.

Only to part friends: Court'sy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. King. More measure of this measure; be not nice. Ros. We can afford no more at such a price. King. Prize you yourselves; What buys your company?

Ros. Your absence only.

King.

That can never be.

Ros. Then cannot we be bought and so adieu; Twice to your visor, and half once to you!

King. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. Ros. In private then. King. I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart. Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. Biron. Nay then, two treys, (an if you grow so nice), Metheglin, wort, and malmsey ;-Well run, dice! There's half a dozen sweets. Seventh sweet, adieu ! Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. Biron. One word in secret.

Prin.

Prin.

Biron. Thou griev'st my gall. Prin.

Biron.

Dum. Will you Mar. Name it. Dum.

Mar.

Let it not be sweet. Gall? bitter. Therefore meet. [They converse apart. vouchsafe with me to change a [word? Fair lady,Say you so? Fair lord,Take that for your fair lady. Please it you, Dum. As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. [They converse apart. Kath. What, was your visor made without a tongue? Long. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. Kath. O, for your reason! quickly, sir: I long. Long. You have a double tongue within your mask, And would afford my speechless visor half. [calf! Kath. Veal, quoth the Dutchman !-Is not veal a Long. A calf, fair lady? Kath. No, a fair lord calf.

Long. Let's part the word. Kath. No, I'll not be your half: Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox. Long. Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so. [mocks! Kath. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. Long. One word in private with you, ere I die. Kath. Bleat softly then, the butcher hears you cry. [They converse apart. Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen; Above the sense of sense: so sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings, Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. [break off.

Ros. Not one word more, my maids; break off, Biron. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! King. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. [Exeunt King, Lords, Moth, Music, and Attendants.

Prin. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovites.Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at? Boyet. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out. [fat.

Ros. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, Prin. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night? Or ever, but in visors, show their faces? This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.

Kath. Yes, in good faith.

Qualm, perhaps.

Prin.
Go, sickness as thou art!
Ros. Well,better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear! the king is my love sworn.
Prin. And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
Kath. And Longaville was for my service born.
Mar. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
Boyet. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
Immediately they will again be here

In their own shapes; for it can never be,
They will digest this harsh indignity.
Prin. Will they return?
Boyet.
They will, they will, God knows ;
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:
Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in the summer air.

[stood.

Prin. How blow? how blow? speak to be underBoyet. Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

Prin. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do, If they return in their own shapes to woo?

Kos. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, Let's mock them still, as well known, as disgnis'd: Let us complain to them what fools were here, Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; And wonder what they were; and to what end Their shallow shows, and prologue vilely penn'd, And their rough carriage so ridiculous, Should be presented at our tent to us. Boyet. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand. Prin. Whip to our tents, as roes run over land. [Exeunt Princess, Ros. Kath, and Maria. Enter the King, Biron, Longaville, and Dumain, in their proper Habits.

King. Fair sir, God save you! Where is the princess? Boyet. Gone to her tent: Please it your majesty, Command me any service to her thither?

King. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. Boyet. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.

[Exit. Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when God doth please: He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares At wakes and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve: He can carve too, and lisp: Why, this is he, That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy; This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice, In honourable terms; nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and, in ushering, Mend him who can: the ladies call him, sweet: The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet: This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whale's bone: And consciences, that will not die in debt, Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet. King. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, That put Armado's page out of his part! Enter the Princess, ushered by Boyet; Rosaline, Maria, Katharine, and Attendants. Biron. See where it comes !-Behaviour, what wert thon, Till this man show'd thee? and what art thou now? King. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! Prin. Fair, in all hail, is foul, as I conceive. King. Construe my speeches better, if you may. Prin. Then wish me better, I will give you leave. King. We came to visit you; and purpose now To lead you to our court: vouchsafe it then. Prin. This field shall hold me; and so hold your Nor God, nor I, delight in perjur❜d men. [vow: King. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke; The virtue of your eye must break my oath. Prin. You nick-name virtue: vice you should

have spoke;

For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.

Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Die in the zeal of them which it presents,
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth;
When great things labouring perish in their birth.
Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord.
Enter Armado.

Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense 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 you the peace of mind, most royal couplement! [Exit.

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 babits, and present the other Biron. There is five in the first show. [five. King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so. Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest,

the fool, and the boy :

Abate a throw at novum; and the whole world again, Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein, King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes

amain.

[Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies. Enter Costard armed, for Pompey.

Cost. I Pompey am,

Boyet.

You lie, you are not he.

Cost. I Pompey am,
Boyet.
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 large and shield, did make my foe to sweat :

[chance; And, travelling along this coast, I here am come by And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France.

If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, I had Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. [done.

Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect I made a little fault in, great.

Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy.

Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on an
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 seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flask.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.
Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

And now, forward; for we have put thee in counte
Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer;
Hol. You have put me out of countenance. [nance.
Biron. False; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
And so adieu, sweet Jade! nay, why dost thou stay?
Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go.
Dum. For the latter end of his name. [as, away.
Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him.-Jud-
Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark,
[baited!
he may stumble.
Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been

Enter Armado armed, for Hector. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms.

Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector?

Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector.
Dum. More calf, certain.

Boyet, No, he is best indued in the small.
Biron. This cannot be Hector,

Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the alGave Hector a gift.

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.

Biron. A lemon.

Long. Stuck with cloves.

Dum. No, cloven.

Arm. Peace.

[mighty,

The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;

Your servant, and Costard.

man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea From morn till night, out of his pavilion. am that flower,

Dum.

Long

That mint.

That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs

sander.

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 poll-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax; he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afeard 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 armed, for Judas, and Moth
armed, for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, [canus; Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus

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 Princess.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [Biron whispers Costard. Prin. Speak, brave Hector, we are much delighted. Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Boyet. Loves her by the foot. Dum. He may not by the yard.

Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?

Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours.

Arm. Dost thou infamonise me among potentates !

thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta