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Cost.

“I Pompey am”—

Ber.

You lie, you are not he.

Cost.

“I Pompey am”—

Boyet.

With libbard’s head on knee.

Ber.

Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with thee.

Cost.

“I Pompey am, Pompey surnam’d the Big”—

Dum.

“The Great.”

Cost.

It is “Great,” sir.

“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 here 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.

[Prin.] Great thanks, great Pompey.

Cost. ’Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect. I made a little fault in ‘Great.’

Ber. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.

Enter Curate [Sir Nathaniel] for Alexander.

Nath.

“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 too right.