Love's Labour's Lost

[HOLOFERNES retires]
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been
baited!

Enter ARMADO, for HECTOR

BEROWNE. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms.
DUMAIN. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
KING. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
BOYET. But is this Hector?
DUMAIN. I think Hector was not so clean-timber'd.
LONGAVILLE. His leg is too big for Hector's.
DUMAIN. More calf, certain.
BOYET. No; he is best indued in the small.
BEROWNE. This cannot be Hector.
DUMAIN. He's a god or a painter, for he makes faces.
ARMADO. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift-
DUMAIN. A gilt nutmeg.
BEROWNE. A lemon.
LONGAVILLE. Stuck with cloves.
DUMAIN. No, cloven.
ARMADO. Peace!
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A man so breathed that certain he would fight ye,
From morn till night out of his pavilion.
I am that flower-
DUMAIN. That mint.
LONGAVILLE. That columbine.
ARMADO. Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
LONGAVILLE. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against
Hector.
DUMAIN. 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.

[BEROWNE steps forth, and speaks to COSTARD]

PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
ARMADO. I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper.
BOYET. [Aside to DUMAIN] Loves her by the foot.
DUMAIN. [Aside to BOYET] He may not by the yard.
ARMADO. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal-
COSTARD. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is
two
months on her way.
ARMADO. What meanest thou?
COSTARD. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, 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 whipt for Jaquenetta that is
quick by
him, and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him.
DUMAIN. Most rare Pompey!
BOYET. Renowned Pompey!
BEROWNE. Greater than Great! Great, great, great Pompey! Pompey
the
Huge!
DUMAIN. Hector trembles.
BEROWNE. Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir them on!
stir
them on!
DUMAIN. Hector will challenge him.
BEROWNE. 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.
DUMAIN. Room for the incensed Worthies!
COSTARD. I'll do it in my shirt.
DUMAIN. 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.
ARMADO. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in
my
shirt.
DUMAIN. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
ARMADO. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BEROWNE. What reason have you for 't?
ARMADO. The naked truth of it is: I have no shirt; I go
woolward
for penance.
BOYET. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen;