It pleased them to thinke me worthie of Pompey
the great: for mine owne part, I know not the degree of
the Worthie, but I am to stand for him
Ber. Go, bid them prepare.
Enter.
Clo. We will turne it finely off sir, we wil take some
care
King. Berowne, they will shame vs:
Let them not approach
Ber. We are shame-proofe my Lord: and 'tis some
policie, to haue one shew worse then the Kings and his
companie
Kin. I say they shall not come
Qu. Nay my good Lord, let me ore-rule you now;
That sport best pleases, that doth least know how.
Where Zeale striues to content, and the contents
Dies in the Zeale of that which it presents:
Their forme confounded, makes most forme in mirth,
When great things labouring perish in their birth
Ber. A right description of our sport my Lord.
Enter Braggart.
Brag. Annointed, I implore so much expence of thy
royall sweet breath, as will vtter a brace of words
Qu. Doth this man serue God?
Ber. Why aske you?
Qu. He speak's not like a man of God's making
Brag. That's all one my faire sweet honie Monarch:
For I protest, the Schoolmaster is exceeding fantasticall:
Too too vaine, too too vaine.
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