DULL.
I sthe deer was not a haud credo; ‘twas a pricket.
HOLOFERNES.
Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus!
O! thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!
NATHANIEL.
Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred of a book;
he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his
intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible
in the duller parts:
And such barren plants are set before us that we thankful should
be,
Which we of taste and feeling are, for those parts that do
fructify in us more than he;
For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool,
So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school.
But, omne bene, say I; being of an old Father’s mind:
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
DULL.
You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit,
What was a month old at Cain’s birth, that’s not five weeks old
as yet?
HOLOFERNES.
Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull.
DULL.
What is Dictynna?
NATHANIEL.
A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
HOLOFERNES.
The moon was a month old when Adam was no more,
And raught not to five weeks when he came to five-score.
The allusion holds in the exchange.
DULL.
‘Tis true, indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.
HOLOFERNES.
God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds in the exchange.
DULL.
And I say the pollusion holds in the exchange, for the moon is never but a month old; and I say beside that ‘twas a pricket that the Princess killed.
HOLOFERNES.
Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on the death of the deer? And, to humour the ignorant, I have call’d the deer the Princess killed, a pricket.
NATHANIEL.
Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.
HOLOFERNES.
I will something affect the letter; for it argues facility.
The preyful Princess pierc’d and prick’d a pretty pleasing
pricket;
Some say a sore; but not a sore till now made sore with
shooting.
The dogs did yell; put L to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket-
Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting.
If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores one sorel!
Of one sore I an hundred make, by adding but one more L.
NATHANIEL.
A rare talent!
DULL.
[Aside] If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.
HOLOFERNES.
This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.
NATHANIEL.
Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you: you are a good member of the commonwealth.
HOLOFERNES.
Mehercle! if their sons be ingenious, they shall want no instruction; if their daughters be capable, I will put it to them; but, vir sapit qui pauca loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth us.
[Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD.]
JAQUENETTA.
God give you good morrow, Master parson.
HOLOFERNES.
Master parson, quasi pers-on. And if one should be pierced, which is the one?
COSTARD.
Marry, Master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.
HOLOFERNES.
Piercing a hogshead! A good lustre or conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine; ‘tis pretty; it is well.
JAQUENETTA.
Good Master parson [Giving a letter to NATHANIEL.], be so good as
read me this letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me from
Don Armado: I beseech you read it.
HOLOFERNES.
‘Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra Ruminat,’ and so forth. Ah! good old Mantuan. I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice: —Venetia, Venetia, Chi non ti vede, non ti pretia. Old Mantuan! old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not. Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather as Horace says in his— What, my soul, verses?
NATHANIEL.
Ay, sir, and very learned.
HOLOFERNES.
Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; lege, domine.
NATHANIEL.
If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
Ah! never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow’d;
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll faithful prove;
Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.
Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
Where all those pleasures live that art would comprehend:
If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice.
Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;
All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire.
Thy eye Jove’s lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.
Celestial as thou art, O! pardon love this wrong,
That sings heaven’s praise with such an earthly tongue.
HOLOFERNES.
You find not the apostrophas, and so miss the accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret. Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso but