Love's Labour's Lost

  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Now, what admittance, lord?  BOYET. Navarre had notice of your fair approach,    And he and his competitors in oath    Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady,    Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt:    He rather means to lodge you in the field,    Like one that comes here to besiege his court,    Than seek a dispensation for his oath,    To let you enter his unpeopled house.                                    [The LADIES-IN-WAITING mask]Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BEROWNE, and ATTENDANTS    Here comes Navarre.  KING. Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'Fair' I give you back again; and 'welcome'I    have not yet. The roof of this court is too high to be yours,and    welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine.  KING. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither.  KING. Hear me, dear lady: I have sworn an oath-  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Our Lady help my lord! He'll be forsworn.  KING. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing    else.  KING. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,    Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.    I hear your Grace hath sworn out house-keeping.    'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,    And sin to break it.    But pardon me, I am too sudden bold;    To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.    Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,    And suddenly resolve me in my suit. [Giving a paper]  KING. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. YOU Will the sooner that I were away,    For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me stay.  BEROWNE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?  KATHARINE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?  BEROWNE. I know you did.  KATHARINE. How needless was it then to ask the question!  BEROWNE. You must not be so quick.  KATHARINE. 'Tis long of you, that spur me with such questions.  BEROWNE. Your wit 's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.  KATHARINE. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.  BEROWNE. What time o' day?  KATHARINE. The hour that fools should ask.  BEROWNE. Now fair befall your mask!  KATHARINE. Fair fall the face it covers!  BEROWNE. And send you many lovers!  KATHARINE. Amen, so you be none.  BEROWNE. Nay, then will I be gone.  KING. Madam, your father here doth intimate    The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;    Being but the one half of an entire sum    Disbursed by my father in his wars.    But say that he or we, as neither have,    Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid    A hundred thousand more, in surety of the which,    One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,    Although not valued to the money's worth.    If then the King your father will restore    But that one half which is unsatisfied,    We will give up our right in Aquitaine,    And hold fair friendship with his Majesty.    But that, it seems, he little purposeth,    For here he doth demand to have repaid    A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,    On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,    To have his title live in Aquitaine;    Which we much rather had depart withal,    And have the money by our father lent,    Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is.    Dear Princess, were not his requests so far    From reason's yielding, your fair self should make    A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast,    And go well satisfied to France again.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. You do the King my father too much wrong,    And wrong the reputation of your name,    In so unseeming to confess receipt    Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.  KING. I do protest I never heard of it;    And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back    Or yield up Aquitaine.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We arrest your word.    Boyet, you can produce acquittances    For such a sum from special officers    Of Charles his father.  KING. Satisfy me so.  BOYET. So please your Grace, the packet is not come,    Where that and other specialties are bound;    To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.  KING. It shall suffice me; at which interview    All liberal reason I will yield unto.    Meantime receive such welcome at my hand    As honour, without breach of honour, may    Make tender of to thy true worthiness.    You may not come, fair Princess, within my gates;    But here without you shall be so receiv'd    As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,    Though so denied fair harbour in my house.    Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell.    To-morrow shall we visit you again.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet health and fair desires consort your    Grace!  KING. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place.                                            Exit with attendants  BEROWNE. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.  ROSALINE. Pray you, do my commendations;    I would be glad to see it.  BEROWNE. I would you heard it groan.  ROSALINE. Is the fool sick?  BEROWNE. Sick at the heart.  ROSALINE. Alack, let it blood.  BEROWNE. Would that do it good?  ROSALINE. My physic says 'ay.'  BEROWNE. Will YOU prick't with your eye?  ROSALINE. No point, with my knife.  BEROWNE. Now, God save thy life!  ROSALINE. And yours from long living!  BEROWNE. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring]  DUMAIN. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?  BOYET. The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.  DUMAIN. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. Exit  LONGAVILLE. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?  BOYET. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.  LONGAVILLE. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.  BOYET. She hath but one for herself; to desire that were ashame.  LONGAVILLE. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?  BOYET. Her mother's, I have heard.  LONGAVILLE. God's blessing on your beard!  BOYET. Good sir, be not offended;    She is an heir of Falconbridge.  LONGAVILLE. Nay, my choler is ended.    She is a most sweet lady.  BOYET. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Exit LONGAVILLE  BEROWNE. What's her name in the cap?  BOYET. Rosaline, by good hap.  BEROWNE. Is she wedded or no?  BOYET. To her will, sir, or so.  BEROWNE. You are welcome, sir; adieu!  BOYET. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.                                     Exit BEROWNE. LADIES Unmask  MARIA. That last is Berowne, the merry mad-cap lord;    Not a word with him but a jest.  BOYET. And every jest but a word.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. It was well done of you to take him at his    word.  BOYET. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.  KATHARINE. Two hot sheeps, marry!  BOYET. And wherefore not ships?    No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.  KATHARINE. You sheep and I pasture- shall that finish the jest?  BOYET. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her]  KATHARINE. Not so, gentle beast;    My lips are no common, though several they be.  BOYET. Belonging to whom?  KATHARINE. To my fortunes and me.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,      agree;    This civil war of wits were much better used    On Navarre and his book-men, for here 'tis abused.  BOYET. If my observation, which very seldom lies,    By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes,    Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. With what?  BOYET. With that which we lovers entitle 'affected.'  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Your reason?  BOYET. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire    To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.    His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,    Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed;    His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,    Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;    All senses to that sense did make their repair,    To feel only looking on fairest of fair.    Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,    As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;    Who, tend'ring their own worth from where they were glass'd,    Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.    His face's own margent did quote such amazes    That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.    I'll give you Aquitaine and all that is his,    An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is dispos'd.  BOYET. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclos'd;    I only have made a mouth of his eye,    By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.  MARIA. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully.  KATHARINE. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.  ROSALINE. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but    grim.  BOYET. Do you hear, my mad wenches?  MARIA. No.  BOYET. What, then; do you see?  MARIA. Ay, our way to be gone.  BOYET. You are too hard for me. Exeunt

ACT III. SCENE I. The park

Enter ARMADO and MOTH

  ARMADO. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.                                         [MOTH sings Concolinel]  ARMADO. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years, take this key, give    enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; Imust    employ him in a letter to my love.  MOTH. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?  ARMADO. How meanest thou? Brawling in French?  MOTH. No, my complete master; but to jig off a tune at thetongue's    end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning upyour    eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the    throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love, sometime    through the nose, as if you snuff'd up love by smelling love,    with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes, with    your arms cross'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbiton a    spit, or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old    painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip andaway.    These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice    wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make themmen    of note- do you note me? – that most are affected to these.  ARMADO. How hast thou purchased this experience?  MOTH. By my penny of observation.  ARMADO. But O- but O-  MOTH. The hobby-horse is forgot.  ARMADO. Call'st thou my love 'hobby-horse'?  MOTH. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love    perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love?  ARMADO. Almost I had.  MOTH. Negligent student! learn her by heart.  ARMADO. By heart and in heart, boy.  MOTH. And out of heart, master; all those three I will prove.  ARMADO. What wilt thou prove?  MOTH. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the    instant. By heart you love her, because your heart cannotcome by    her; in heart you love her, because your heart is in lovewith    her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart thatyou    cannot enjoy her.  ARMADO. I am all these three.  MOTH. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.  ARMADO. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter.  MOTH. A message well sympathiz'd- a horse to be ambassador foran    ass.  ARMADO. Ha, ha, what sayest thou?  MOTH. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for heis    very slow-gaited. But I go.  ARMADO. The way is but short; away.  MOTH. As swift as lead, sir.  ARMADO. The meaning, pretty ingenious?    Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?  MOTH. Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.  ARMADO. I say lead is slow.  MOTH. You are too swift, sir, to say so:    Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun?  ARMADO. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!    He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he;    I shoot thee at the swain.  MOTH. Thump, then, and I flee. Exit  ARMADO. A most acute juvenal; volable and free of grace!    By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face;    Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.    My herald is return'd.

Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD

  MOTH. A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin.  ARMADO. Some enigma, some riddle; come, thy l'envoy; begin.  COSTARD. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail,sir.    O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy;no    salve, sir, but a plantain!  ARMADO. By virtue thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought,my    spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous    smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take    salve for l'envoy, and the word 'l'envoy' for a salve?  MOTH. Do the wise think them other? Is not l'envoy a salve?  ARMADO. No, page; it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain    Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.    I will example it:           The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,           Were still at odds, being but three.    There's the moral. Now the l'envoy.  MOTH. I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.  ARMADO. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,           Were still at odds, being but three.  MOTH. Until the goose came out of door,           And stay'd the odds by adding four.    Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with myl'envoy.           The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,           Were still at odds, being but three.  ARMADO. Until the goose came out of door,           Staying the odds by adding four.  MOTH. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; would you desiremore?  COSTARD. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat.    Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.    To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose;    Let me see: a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.  ARMADO. Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?  MOTH. By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.    Then call'd you for the l'envoy.  COSTARD. True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your argumentin;    Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;    And he ended the market.  ARMADO. But tell me: how was there a costard broken in a shin?  MOTH. I will tell you sensibly.  COSTARD. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that      l'envoy.    I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,    Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.  ARMADO. We will talk no more of this matter.  COSTARD. Till there be more matter in the shin.  ARMADO. Sirrah Costard. I will enfranchise thee.  COSTARD. O, Marry me to one Frances! I smell some l'envoy, some    goose, in this.  ARMADO. By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty,    enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained,    captivated, bound.  COSTARD. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and letme    loose.  ARMADO. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in    lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this    significant [giving a letter] to the country maid Jaquenetta;    there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honour is    rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. Exit  MOTH. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.  COSTARD. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my incony Jew!                                                       Exit MOTH    Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that'sthe    Latin word for three farthings. Three farthings-remuneration.    'What's the price of this inkle?'– 'One penny.'– 'No, I'llgive    you a remuneration.' Why, it carries it. Remuneration! Why,it is    a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sellout of    this word.

Enter BEROWNE

  BEROWNE. My good knave Costard, exceedingly well met!  COSTARD. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buyfor    a remuneration?  BEROWNE. What is a remuneration?  COSTARD. Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.  BEROWNE. Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk.  COSTARD. I thank your worship. God be wi' you!  BEROWNE. Stay, slave; I must employ thee.    As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,    Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.  COSTARD. When would you have it done, sir?  BEROWNE. This afternoon.  COSTARD. Well, I will do it, sir; fare you well.  BEROWNE. Thou knowest not what it is.  COSTARD. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.  BEROWNE. Why, villain, thou must know first.  COSTARD. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.  BEROWNE. It must be done this afternoon.    Hark, slave, it is but this:    The Princess comes to hunt here in the park,    And in her train there is a gentle lady;    When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,    And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her,    And to her white hand see thou do commend    This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.                                         [Giving him a shilling]  COSTARD. Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration; a    'leven-pence farthing better; most sweet gardon! I will doit,    sir, in print. Gardon- remuneration! Exit  BEROWNE. And I, forsooth, in love; I, that have been love'swhip;    A very beadle to a humorous sigh;    A critic, nay, a night-watch constable;    A domineering pedant o'er the boy,    Than whom no mortal so magnificent!    This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,    This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;    Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,    Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,    Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,    Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,    Sole imperator, and great general    Of trotting paritors. O my little heart!    And I to be a corporal of his field,    And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!    What! I love, I sue, I seek a wife-    A woman, that is like a German clock,    Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,    And never going aright, being a watch,    But being watch'd that it may still go right!    Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;    And, among three, to love the worst of all,    A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,    With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;    Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,    Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard.    And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!    To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague    That Cupid will impose for my neglect    Of his almighty dreadful little might.    Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan:    Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. Exit

ACT IV. SCENE I. The park

Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, LORDS, ATTENDANTS, and a FORESTER

  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Was that the King that spurr'd his horse so      hard    Against the steep uprising of the hill?  BOYET. I know not; but I think it was not he.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Whoe'er 'a was, 'a show'd a mounting mind.    Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch;    On Saturday we will return to France.    Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush    That we must stand and play the murderer in?  FORESTER. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;    A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I thank my beauty I am fair that shoot,    And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot.  FORESTER. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What, what? First praise me, and again sayno?    O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? Alack for woe!  FORESTER. Yes, madam, fair.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nay, never paint me now;    Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.    Here, good my glass, take this for telling true:                                             [ Giving him money]    Fair payment for foul words is more than due.  FORESTER. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.    O heresy in fair, fit for these days!    A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.    But come, the bow. Now mercy goes to kill,    And shooting well is then accounted ill;    Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:    Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;    If wounding, then it was to show my skill,    That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.    And, out of question, so it is sometimes:    Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,    When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,    We bend to that the working of the heart;    As I for praise alone now seek to spill    The poor deer's blood that my heart means no ill.  BOYET. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty    Only for praise sake, when they strive to be    Lords o'er their lords?  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Only for praise; and praise we may afford    To any lady that subdues a lord.

Enter COSTARD

  BOYET. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.  COSTARD. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the restthat    have no heads.  COSTARD. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The thickest and the tallest.  COSTARD. The thickest and the tallest! It is so; truth istruth.    An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,    One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.    Are not you the chief woman? You are the thickest here.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What's your will, sir? What's your will?  COSTARD. I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to one    Lady Rosaline.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. O, thy letter, thy letter! He's a goodfriend      of mine.    Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve.    Break up this capon.  BOYET. I am bound to serve.    This letter is mistook; it importeth none here.    It is writ to Jaquenetta.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We will read it, I swear.    Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.  BOYET. [Reads] 'By heaven, that thou art fair is mostinfallible;    true that thou art beauteous; truth itself that thou artlovely.    More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer thantruth    itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal. The    magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye uponthe    pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it wasthat    might rightly say, 'Veni, vidi, vici'; which to annothanizein    the vulgar, – O base and obscure vulgar! – videlicet, He came,saw,    and overcame. He came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Whocame? -    the king. Why did he come? – to see. Why did he see? – toovercome.    To whom came he? – to the beggar. What saw he? – the beggar.Who    overcame he? – the beggar. The conclusion is victory; on whose    side? – the king's. The captive is enrich'd; on whose side? -the    beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial; on whose side? – the    king's. No, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king,for so    stands the comparison; thou the beggar, for so witnesseth thy    lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I enforcethy    love? I could. Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shaltthou    exchange for rags? – robes, for tittles? – titles, for thyself?    -me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot,my    eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.                  Thine in the dearest design of industry,                                           DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.    'Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar    'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;    Submissive fall his princely feet before,    And he from forage will incline to play.    But if thou strive, poor soul, what are thou then?    Food for his rage, repasture for his den.'  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What plume of feathers is he that inditedthis      letter?    What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear better?  BOYET. I am much deceived but I remember the style.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it    erewhile.  BOYET. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;    A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport    To the Prince and his book-mates.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou fellow, a word.    Who gave thee this letter?  COSTARD. I told you: my lord.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. To whom shouldst thou give it?  COSTARD. From my lord to my lady.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. From which lord to which lady?  COSTARD. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,    To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline.  PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords,      away.    [To ROSALINE] Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thineanother      day. Exeunt PRINCESS and TRAIN  BOYET. Who is the shooter? who is the shooter?  ROSALINE. Shall I teach you to know?  BOYET. Ay, my continent of beauty.  ROSALINE. Why, she that bears the bow.    Finely put off!  BOYET. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,    Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.    Finely put on!  ROSALINE. Well then, I am the shooter.  BOYET. And who is your deer?  ROSALINE. If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.    Finely put on indeed!  MARIA. You Still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes atthe    brow.  BOYET. But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now?  ROSALINE. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was aman    when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching thehit    it?  BOYET. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a womanwhen    Queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching thehit    it.  ROSALINE. [Singing]            Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,            Thou canst not hit it, my good man.  BOYET. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,            An I cannot, another can.                                   Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE  COSTARD. By my troth, most pleasant! How both did fit it!  MARIA. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it.  BOYET. A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!    Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be.  MARIA. Wide o' the bow-hand! I' faith, your hand is out.  COSTARD. Indeed, 'a must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the    clout.  BOYET. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.  COSTARD. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.  MARIA. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.  COSTARD. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge herto    bowl.  BOYET. I fear too much rubbing; good-night, my good owl.                                          Exeunt BOYET and MARIA  COSTARD. By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown!    Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!    O' my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar wit!    When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, sofit.    Armado a th' t'one side- O, a most dainty man!    To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!    To see him kiss his hand, and how most sweetly 'a will swear!    And his page a t' other side, that handful of wit!    Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!    Sola, sola! Exit COSTARD