Enter HOLOFERNES arm'd, for Judas, and MOTH arm'd, for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus, And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus : Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;

Ergo, I come with this apology.—

Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.

Hol. Judas I am,

[Exit MOTH.

Dum. A Judas!

Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.

Judas I am, ycleped Machabæus.

Dum. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas. Biron. A kissing traitor:-How art thou prov'd Judas?

Hol. Judas I am,

Dum. The more shame for

Hol. What mean you, sir?

Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.

Hol. Begin, sir; you are my elder.

Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on an elder. Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.

Biron. Because thou hast no face.

Hol. What is this?

Boyet. A cittern head 51.

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 52.

51 The cittern, a musical instrument like a guitar, had usually a head grotesquely carved at the extremity of. the neck and finger-board: hence these jests.

2 i. e. a soldier's powder-horn.

Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch 53.
Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer: And now, forward; for we have put thee in coun

tenance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
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. Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go. And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay? Dum. For the latter end of his name.

Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him :— Jud-as, away.

Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark, he may stumble.

Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been baited!

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 now be merry.

King. Hector was but a Trojan 54 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.

53 A brooch was an ornamental clasp for fastening hat-bands, girdles, mantles, &c. a brooch of lead, because of his pale and wan complexion, his leaden hue.

54 Trojan is supposed to have been a cant term for a thief. It was, however, a familiar name for any equal or inferior.

Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances 55 the al

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

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

I 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 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 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?

55 i. e. lance-men.

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 infamonize me among potentates?

thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey that is dead by him.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!
Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is moved:-More Ates 56, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on!

Dum. Hector will challenge him.

Biron. Ay, if he 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 man 57; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword:-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.

Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.

Dum. Most resolute Pompey!

Moth. Master, let me take you a buttonhole 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.

56 i. e. more instigation. Até was the goddess of discord. 57 Vir Borealis, a clown. See 'An Optick Glasse of Humours, by T. W. 1663.' The reference may be, however to the particular use of the quarter staff in the northern counties.

Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Biron. What reasons have you for't?

Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward 58 for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart for a favour.

Enter a Messenger MONSIEUR MERCADE. Mer. God save you, madam.

Prin. Welcome, Mercade;

But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.

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.

Biron. 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 59, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt 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

58 That is clothed in wool, and not in linen. A penance often enjoined in times of superstition. In Lodge's Incarnate Devils of this Age, 1596, we have the character of a swash-buckler : 'His common course is to go always untrust, except when his shirt is a washing, and then he goes woolward.'

59 Armado probably means to say in his affected style that ' he had discovered he was wronged.' 'One may see day at a little hole' is a proverb.