Nath.

Very reverent sport truly, and done in the testimony of a good conscience.

Hol.

The deer was (as you know) sanguis in blood, ripe as a pomwater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of Cœlo the sky, the welkin, the heav'n, and anon falleth like a crab on the face of Terra, the soil, the land, the earth.

Nath.

Truly master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied like a scholar at the least: but, Sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head.

Hol.

Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.

Dull.

'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket.

Hol.

Most barbarous intimation; yet a kind of insinuation, as it were in via, in way of explication facere, as it were replication, or rather ostentare, to show as it were his inclination after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or ratherest unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer.

Dull.

I said the deer was not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket.

Hol.

Twice sod simplicity, bis coctus; O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou look?

Nath.

Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in 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 taste, and feeling, are for those parts that do fructifie in us more than he.

Dull.
You two are book-men; can you tell by your wit,
What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet?

Hol.
Dictinna good-man Dull, Dictinna good-man Dull.

Dull.
What is Dictinna?

Nath.
A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moon.

Hol.
The moon was a month old when Adam was no more.
And rought not to five weeks when he came to fivescore.
Th'allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull.

'Tis true indeed, the collusion holds in the exchange.

Hol.

God comfort thy capacity, I say the allusion holds in the exchange.

Dull.

And I say the pollution holds in the exchange; for the moon is never but a month old; and I say beside that 'twas a pricket that the Princess kill'd.

Hol.

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 kill'd, a pricket.

Nath.

Perge good master Holofernes, perge, so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility.

Hol.

I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility.

The praiseful Princess pierc'd and prickt
  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 jumpt from thicket;
Or pricket-sore, or else sorel,
  The people fall a hooting.
If sore be sore, then L to sore,
  Makes fifty sores, O sorel!
Of one sore I an hundred make,
  By adding but one more L.

Nath.

A rare talent!

Dull.

If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent.

Hol.

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, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and deliver'd upon the mellowing of occasion; but the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.

Nath.

Sir, I praise the lord for you, and so may my parishioners, for their sons are well tutor'd by you, and their daughters profit very greatly under you; you are a good member of the common-wealth.

Hol.

Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, 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.

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