WIT.
Thou monstrous wretch, thou mortal foe to me and mine,
Which evermore at my good luck and fortune did'st repine,
Take here thy just desert and payment for thy hire.
Thy head this day shall me prefer unto my heart's desire.
INSTRUCTION.
O noble Wit, the praise, the game is thine.
STUDY.
Hove up his head upon your spear, lo, here a joyful sign!
DILIGENCE.
O valiant knight, O conquest full of praise!
WILL.
O bliss[441] of God to see these happy days!
WIT.
You, you, my faithful squires, deserve no less,
Whose tried trust, well-known to me in my distress.
And certain hope of your fix'd faith and fast good-will,
Made me attempt this famous fact, most needful to fulfil:
To you I yield great thanks, to me redounds the gain,
Now home apace, and ring it out, that Tediousness is slain.
Say all at once, Tediousness is slain.
ACT V., SCAENA 6.
SCIENCE, WIT.
SCIENCE.
I hear and see the joyful news, wherein I take delight,
That Tediousness, our mortal foe, is overcome in fight:
I see the sign of victory, the sign of manliness:
The heap of happy haps: the joy that tongue cannot express.
Our[442] welcome fame from day to day for ever shall arise.