No More Learning

Pompey surnam'd the Great,
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to
sweat;
And travelling along this coast, I bere am come by chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France.

If your ladyship would say 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Great thanks, great Pompey.
COSTARD. 'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect.
I made a little fault in Great.
BEROWNE. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.

Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for ALEXANDER

NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might.
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander-
BOYET. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands to right.
BEROWNE. Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling
knight.
PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good
Alexander.
NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, 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 scrap'd out of the painted cloth for
this. Your lion, that holds his poleaxe sitting on a close-stool,
will be given to Ajax.