My futcheon plain declares, that I am Alifander.
Boyet. Your nofe fays, no, you are not; for it stands

too right.

Biron. Your nofe fmells, no, in this, most tender
fmelling knight.

Prin. The conqueror is difmay'd: proceed, good
Alexander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's
commander.

Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were fo, Alifander.
Biron. Pompey the Great,

Coft. Your fervant, and Coftard.

Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away Alifan

der.

Coft. O, fir, you have overthrown Alifander the conqueror. [To Nath.] You will be fcraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his pollax fitting on a clofe-ftool, will be given to A-jax; " he will then be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afraid to speak! run away for fhame, Alifander. [Exit Nath.] There, an't fhall please you! a foolish mild man; an honeft man, look you, and foon dafh'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, infooth, and a very good bowler: but, for Alifander, alas, you fee, how 'tis ;-a little o'erparted-But there are worthies a coming will fpeak their mind in fome other fort. Biron. Stand afide, good Pompey.

2

lion, that holds his poll-ax, fitting on a clofe-flool,] Alluding to the arms given to the nine worthies in the old history. HANMER. Ajax ;] There is a conceit of Ajax and a jakes. JOHNSON. This conceit, paltry as it is, was ufed by Ben Jonson, and Camden the antiquary. Ben. among his Epigrams, has these two lines, "And I could with, for their eterniz'd fakes,

"My mufe had plough'd with his that fung Ajax." So Camden, in his Remains, having mentioned the French word pet, fays, "Enquire, if you understand it not, of Cloacina's chapFF lains, or fuch as are well read in A-jax." STEEVENS.

Enter

Enter Holofernes for Judas, and Moth for Hercules. Hol. Great Hercules is prefented by this imp, Whofe club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed ·

canus;

And, when he was a babe, a child, a fhrimp,
Thus did he ftrangle ferpents in his manus:
Quoniam, he feemeth in minority;

Ergo, I come with this apology

[To Moth.] Keep fome ftate in thy exit, and vanish.

Hol. Judas I am.

Dum. A Judas!

Hel. Not Ifcariot, fir.

Fudas I am, ycleped Macchabæus.

[Exit Moth.

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

Hol. Judas I am.

Dum. The more fhame for you, Judas.

Hol. What mean you, fir?

Boyet. To make Judas hang himself,

Hol. Begin, fir; 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 haft 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 Cæfar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flafk.*

Biron. St. George's half cheek in a brooch.

Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer:

-on a flafk.] i. e. a foldier's powder-horn. So elsewhere, like powder in a skillefs foldier's flafk,

Is fet on fire." STEEVENS.

And

And now, forward; for we have put thee in countenance,
Hol. You have put me out of countenance,
Biron. Falfe; we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.

Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do fo.
Boyet. Therefore, as he is an afs, let him go.
And fo adieu, fweet Jude! nay, why doft thou ftay?
Dum. For the latter end of his name.

Biron. For the afs to the Jude; give it him. Jud-as,

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

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

Enter Armado.

Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector in arms.

Dum. Tho' thy 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?

King. I think, Hector was not fo clean timber'd. Long. His leg is too big for Hector,

Dum. More calf, certain.

Boyet. No; he is best indu'd in the fmall.

Biron. This can't be Hector.

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

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.

Biron. A lemon

Long. Stuck with cloves."

3 Stuck with cloves.] An orange fuck with cloves appears to have been a common new-year's gift. So Ben Jonfon, in his Christmas Mafque," he has an orange and rofemary but not a clove to stick "in it." Agilt nutmeg is mentioned in the fame piece, and on the fame occafion. STEEVENS.

Dum.

Dum. No, cloven.

Arm. Peace! The armipotent Mars, of lances the Almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;

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

I am that flower.

Dum. That mint.

Long. 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 fweet war man is dead and rotten; Sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: But I will forward with my device;

To the Princefs.] Sweet royalty, beftow on me the fenfe of hearing.

Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted, Am. I do adore thy fweet grace's flipper.

Boyet. Loves her by the foot.

Dum. He may not by the yard.

Arm. This Hector far furmounted Hannibal.

Coft. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; fhe is two months on her way.

Arm. What mean'ft thou ?.

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

Arm. Doft thou infamonize me among potentates?

Thou fhalt die.

Coft. Then fhall Hector be whipt for Jaquenetta, that is quick by him; and hang'd, for Pompey, that is dead by him.

Dum. Moft rare Pompey!

Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pom

pey! Pompey the huge!

Dum.

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is mov'd; more Ates, more Ates ;* ftir them on, ftir them on!

Dum. Hector will challenge him.

Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly than will fup a flea.

Arm. By the north-pole, I do challenge thee.

Coft. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man: I'll flash; I'll do't by the fword: I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incenfed worthies.

Coft I'll do it in my fhirt.

Dum. Moft refolute Pompey!

Moth. Mafter, let me take you a button-hole lower. Do you not fee, Pompey is uncafing for the combat? what mean you? you will lofe your reputation.

Arm. Gentlemen, and foldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my fhirt.

Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the challenge.

Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will..

Biron. What reafon have you for't?

Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no fhirt; I

go woolward for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: fince when, I'll be fworn, he wore

6

none

-more Ates ;] That is, more infligation. Ate was the mifchievous goddefs that incited blood fhed. JOHNSON.

5

-my arms -]The weapons and armour which he wore in the character of Pompey. JOHNSON.

it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen, &c] This may poffibly allude to a ftory well known in our author's time, to this effect. A Spaniard at Rome falling in a duel, as he lay expiring, an intimate friend, by chance, came by, and offered him his beit fervices. The dying man told him he had but one request to make him, but conjured him, by the memory of their past friendfhip, punctually to comply with it, which was not to fuffer him to be itript, but to bury him as he lay, in the habit he then had on.

When