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Love's Labour's Lost, V. ii

Arm. 'The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift,—' 648

Dum. A gilt nutmeg.

Ber. A lemon.

Long. Stuck with cloves.

Dum. No, cloven. 652

Arm. Peace!
'The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight ye 656
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower,—'

Dum. That mint.

Long. That columbine.

Arm. Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

Long. I must rather give it the rein, for it 660
runs against Hector.

Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten;
sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried; 664
when he breathed, he was a man. But I will for-
ward with my device. [To the Princess.] Sweet
royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.

Berowne steps forth.

Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much de- 668
lighted.

Arm. I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper.

Boyet. [Aside to Dumaine.] Loves her by the foot. 672

Dum. [Aside to Boyet.] He may not by the
yard.

Arm. 'This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,—'

[Berowne returns with Costard.]


656 breath'd: endowed with breath, vigorous