BOYET. Renowned Pompey! BIRON. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge! 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. COST. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man ; I'll flash; I'll do it by the fword:-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again. DUM. Room for the incensed worthies. COST. I'll do it in my fhirt. DUM. Most 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 shirt. 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. Borer. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: fince when, I'll be fworn, he wore none, but a difh-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a wears next his heart, for a favour. PRIN. Welcome, Mercade; But that thou interrupt'ft our merriment, MER. I am forry, madam; for the news I bring, Is heavy in my tongue. The king your fatherPRIN. Dead, for my life. MER. Even fo; my tale is told. BIRON. Worthies, away; the fcene begins to cloud. ARM. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have feen the day of wrong through the little hole of difcretion, and I will right myself like a foldier. KING. How fares your majefty? [Exeunt Worthies PRIN. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. Out of a new-fad foul, that you vouchsafe KING. The extreme parts of time extremely form And often, at his very loose, decides That which long process could not arbitrate: The holy fuit which fain it would convince; Let not the cloud of sorrow juftle it From what it purpos'd; fince, to wail friends loft, As to rejoice at friends but newly found. PŘÍN. I understand you not; my griefs are double. BIRON. Honeft plain words best pierce the ear of grief;And by these badges understand the king. For your fair fakes have we neglected time, Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies, To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you : Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace. PRIN. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love; Your favours, the embaffadors of love; And, in our maiden council, rated them At courtship, pleasant jeft, and courtesy, As bombaft, and as lining to the time: But more devout than this, in our refpects, DUM. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jeft Ros. We did not quote them fo. KING. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. PRIN. A time, methinks, too fhort To make a world-without-end bargain in : Change not your offer made in heat of blood; Neither intitled in the other's heart. KING. If this, or more than this, I would deny, To flatter up thefe powers of mine with rest, The fudden hand of death close up mine eye! Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. BIRON. And what to me, my love? and what to me? Ros. You must be purged too, your fins are rank; A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, DUM. But what to me, my love? but what to me? MAR. At the twelvemonth's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, |