NATHANIEL.
When in the world I lived, I was the world’s commander—
BOYET.
Most true; ’tis right. You were so, Alisander.
BEROWNE.
Pompey the Great—
COSTARD.
Your servant, and Costard.
BEROWNE.
Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
COSTARD.
[To Sir 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 pole-axe 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. [Nathaniel retires.] 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 Moth, the Boy, 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.
Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
[Moth retires.]