HOLOFERNES. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by our assistance, the King’s command, and this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the Princess, I say, none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies. NATHANIEL. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them? HOLOFERNES. Joshua, yourself; myself; and this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus. This swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules. ARMADO. Pardon, sir; error. He is not quantity enough for that Worthy’s thumb; he is not so big as the end of his club. HOLOFERNES. Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in minority. His enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose. MOTH. An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry “Well done, Hercules, now thou crushest the snake!” That is the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it. ARMADO. For the rest of the Worthies? HOLOFERNES. I will play three myself. MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman! ARMADO. Shall I tell you a thing? HOLOFERNES. We attend. ARMADO. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you, follow. HOLOFERNES. _Via_, goodman Dull! Thou has spoken no word all this while. DULL. Nor understood none neither, sir. HOLOFERNES. _Allons!_ we will employ thee. DULL. I’ll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay. HOLOFERNES. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. The same. Before the Princess’s pavilion Enter the Princess, Rosaline, Katharine and Maria. PRINCESS. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, If fairings come thus plentifully in. A lady walled about with diamonds! Look you what I have from the loving King. ROSALINE. Madam, came nothing else along with that? PRINCESS. Nothing but this? Yes, as much love in rhyme As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent and all, That he was fain to seal on Cupid’s name. ROSALINE. That was the way to make his godhead wax, For he hath been five thousand years a boy. KATHARINE. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. ROSALINE. You’ll ne’er be friends with him. He killed your sister. KATHARINE. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy; And so she died. Had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might ha’ been a grandam ere she died. And so may you, for a light heart lives long. ROSALINE. What’s your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? KATHARINE. A light condition in a beauty dark. ROSALINE. We need more light to find your meaning out. KATHARINE. You’ll mar the light by taking it in snuff; Therefore I’ll darkly end the argument. ROSALINE. Look what you do, you do it still i’ th’ dark.