The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 115
You cannot beg us, sir. I can assure you, sir, we
know what we know.
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir—
BIRON
Is not nine?
COSTARD Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
BIRON By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
COSTARD O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reck’ning, sir. BIRON How much is it?
COSTARD O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount. For mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir.
BIRON Art thou one of the Worthies?
COSTARD It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey the Great. For mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.
BIRON Go, bid them prepare.
COSTARD
We will turn it finely off, sir. We will take some care.
Exit
KING
Biron, they will shame us. Let them not approach.
BIRON
We are shame-proof, my lord, and ‘tis some policy
To have one show worse than the King’s and his
company.
KING I say they shall not come.
PRINCESS
Nay, my good lord, let me o’errule you now.
That sport best pleases that doth least know how.
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it presents,
There 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 the braggart
ARMADO (to the King) Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.
⌈Armado and the King speak apart⌉
PRINCESS Doth this man serve God?
BIRON Why ask you?
PRINCESS
A speaks not like a man of God his making.
ARMADO That is all one, my fair sweet honey monarch, for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical, too-too vain, too-too vain. But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la 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 Maccabeus, And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits and present the other five.
BIRON
There is five in the first show.
KING
You are deceived, ’tis not so.
BIRON
The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool,
and the boy,
Abate throw at novum and the whole world again
Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
KING
The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
Enter Costard the clown as Pompey
COSTARD (as Pompey)
I Pompey am—
BIRON You lie, you are not he.
COSTARD (as Pompey)
I Pompey am—
BOYET With leopard’s head on knee.
BIRON
Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with thee.
COSTARD (as Pompey)
I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big.
DUMAINE ‘The Great’.
COSTARD It is ‘Great’, sir—
(As Pompey) Pompey surnamed the Great,
That oft in field with targe and shield did make my
foe to sweat,
And travelling along this coast I here am come by
chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of
France.—
If your ladyship would say ‘Thanks, Pompey’, I had
done.
⌈PRTNCESS⌉ Great thanks, great Pompey.
COSTARD ‘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.
Costard stands aside.
Enter Nathaniel the curate as Alexander
NATHANIEL (as Alexander)
When in the world I lived I was the world’s commander.
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might.
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander.
BOYET
Your nose says no, you are not, for it stands too right.
BIRON (to Boyet)
Your nose smells ‘no’ in this, most tender-smelling knight.
PRINCESS
The conqueror is dismayed. Proceed, good Alexander.
NATHANIEL (as Alexander)
When in the world I lived I was the world’s commander.
BOYET
Most true, ’tis right, you were so, Alisander.
BIRON (to Costard) Pompey the Great.
COSTARD Your servant, and Costard.
BIRON Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
COSTARD (to Nathaniel) O, sir, you have overthrown Alisander the Conqueror. You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this. Your lion that holds his poleaxe 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.
⌈Exit Nathaniel the curate⌉
There, an’t shall please you, a foolish mild man, an honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a marvellous good neighbour, faith, 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.
PRINCESS Stand aside, good Pompey.
Enter Holofernes the pedant as Judas, and the boy Mote as Hercules
HOLOFERNES
Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club killed 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.
(To Mote) Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Exit Mote
HOLOFERNES (as Judas)
Judas I am—
DUMAINE A Judas?
HOLOFERNES Not Iscariot, sir.
(As Judas) Judas I am, yclept Maccabeus.
DUMAINE Judas Maccabeus clipped is plain Judas.
BIRON A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas ?
HOLOFERNES (as Judas)
Judas I am—
DUMAINE The more shame for you, Judas.
HOLOFERNES What mean you, sir?
BOYET To make Judas hang himself.
HOLOFERNES Begin, sir. You are my elder.
BIRON Well followed—Judas was hanged on an elder.
HOLOFERNES I will not be put out of countenance. 601
BIRON Because thou hast no face.
HOLOFERNES What is this?
BOYET A cittern-head.
DUMAINE The head of a bodkin.
BIRON A death’s face in a ring.
LONGUEVILLE The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
BOYET The pommel of Caesar’s falchion.
DUMAINE The carved-bone face on a flask.
BIRON Saint George’s half-cheek in a brooch.
DUMAINE 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 countenance.
HOLOFERNES You have put me out of countenance.
BIRON False, we have given thee faces.
HOLOFERNES But you have outfaced them all.
BIRON
&
nbsp; 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?
DUMAINE For the latter end of his name.
BIRON
For the ass to the Jude. Give it him. Jud-as, away.
HOLOFERNES
This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
BOYET
A light for Monsieur Judas. It grows dark, he may stumble.
Exit Holofernes
PRINCESS Alas, poor Maccabeus, how hath he been baited !
Enter Armado the braggart as Hector
BIRON Hide thy head, Achilles, here comes Hector in arms.
DUMAINE 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?
KING I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.
LONGUEVILLE His leg is too big for Hector’s.
DUMAINE More calf, certain.
BOYET No, he is best endowed in the small.
BIRON This cannot be Hector.
DUMAINE He’s a god, or a painter, for he makes faces.
ARMADO (as Hector)
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift—
DUMAINE A gilt nutmeg.
BIRON A lemon.
LONGUEVILLE Stuck with cloves.
DUMAINE NO, cloven.
ARMADO Peace I
(As Hector) The armipotent Mars, of lances the
almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion,
A man so breathed that certain he would fight, yea,
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower—
DUMAINE
That mint.
LONGUEVILLE
That colombine.
ARMADO Sweet Lord Longueville, rein thy tongue.
LONGUEVILLE I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.
DUMAINE Ay, and Hector’s a greyhound.
ARMADO The sweet war-man is dead and rotten. Sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried. When he breathed he was a man. But I will forward with my device. (To the Princess) Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.
Biron steps forth
PRINCESS
Speak, brave Hector, we are much delighted.
ARMADO I do adore thy sweet grace’s slipper.
BOYET Loves her by the foot.
DUMAINE He may not by the yard.
ARMADO (as Hector)
This Hector far surmounted Hannibal.
⌈ ⌉
ARMADO The party is gone.
COSTARD Fellow Hector, she is gone, she is two months on her way.
ARMADO What meanest thou?
COSTARD 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.
ARMADO Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? Thou shalt die.
COSTARD Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him. 675
DUMAINE Most rare Pompey!
BOYET Renowned Pompey!
BIRON Greater than great—great, great, great Pompey, Pompey the Huge.
DUMAINE Hector trembles.
BIRON Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates—stir them on, stir them on!
DUMAINE Hector will challenge him.
BIRON Ay, if a have no more man’s blood in his belly than will sup a flea.
ARMADO By the North Pole, I do challenge thee.
COSTARD I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man. I’ll slash, I’ll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.
DUMAINE Room for the incensed Worthies.
COSTARD I’ll do it in my shirt.
DUMAINE Most resolute Pompey.
MOTE (aside to Armado) 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.
ARMADO Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me. I will not combat in my shirt.
DUMAINE You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge.
ARMADO Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BIRON What reason have you for’t?
ARMADO The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. I go woolward for penance.
⌈MOTE⌉ True, and it was enjoined 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 Mercadé
MERCADÉ
God save you, madam.
PRINCESS Welcome, Mercadé,
But that thou interrupt’st our merriment.
MERCADÉ
I am sorry, madam, for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father—
PRINCESS
Dead, for my life.
MERCADÉ Even so. My tale is told.
BIRON
Worthies, away. The scene begins to cloud.
ARMADO 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.
Exeunt the Worthies
KING How fares your majesty ?
QUEEN
Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight.
KING
Madam, not so, I do beseech you stay.
QUEEN
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 overboldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath, your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord.
A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
Excuse me so coming too short of thanks,
For my great suit so easily obtained.
KING
The extreme parts of time extremely forms
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
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet since love’s argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow jostle it
From what it purposed, since to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
QUEEN
I understand you not. My griefs are double.
BIRON
Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief,
And by these badges understand the King.
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents,
And what in us hath seemed ridiculous—
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
Formed by the eye and therefore like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance;
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes that look into these faults
Suggested us to make them. Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likew
ise yours. We to ourselves prove false
By being once false for ever to be true
To those that make us both—fair ladies, you.
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
QUEEN
We have received your letters full of love,
Your favours the ambassadors of love,
And in our maiden council rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast and as lining to the time.
But more devout than this in our respects
Have we not been, and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
DUMAINE
Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest.
LONGUEVILLE
So did our looks.
ROSALINE
We did not quote them so.
KING
Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
QUEEN A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
Full of dear guiltiness, and therefore this:
If for my love—as there is no such cause—
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust, but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage
Remote from all the pleasures of the world.
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere, insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial and last love,
Then at the expiration of the year
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine, and till that instance shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation
For the remembrance of my father’s death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
Neither entitled in the other’s heart.
KING
If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye.
Hence, hermit, then. My heart is in thy breast.
They talk apart