Ber.
I would you heard it groan.
Ros.
Is the fool sick?
Ber.
Sick at the heart.
Ros.
Alack, let it blood.
Ber.
Would that do it good?
Ros.
My physic says ay.
Ber.
Will you prick’t with your eye?
Ros.
No point, with my knife.
Ber.
Now God save thy life!
Ros.
And yours from long living!
Ber.
I cannot stay thanksgiving.
Exit.
Enter Dumaine.
Dum.
Sir, I pray you a word. What lady is that same?
Boyet.
The heir of Alanson, [Katherine] her name.
Dum.
A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well.
Exit.
[Enter Longaville.]
Long.
I beseech you a word. What is she in the white?
Boyet.
A woman sometimes, and you saw her in the light.
Long.
Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.
Boyet.
She hath but one for herself, to desire that were a shame.
Long.
Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
Boyet.
Her mother’s, I have heard.
Long.
God’s blessing on your beard!
Boyet.
Good sir, be not offended,
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
Long.
Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.
Boyet.
Not unlike, sir, that may be.
Exit Longaville.
Enter Berowne.
Ber.
What’s her name in the cap?
Boyet.
[Rosaline,] by good hap.
Ber.
Is she wedded or no?
Boyet.
To her will, sir, or so.
Ber.
O, you are welcome, sir, adieu.
Boyet.
Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
Exit Berowne.
Mar.
That last is Berowne, the merry madcap lord.
Not a word with him but a jest.
Boyet.
And every jest but a word.
Prin.
It was well done of you to take him at his word.
Boyet.
I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.
Kath.
Two hot sheeps, marry.
Boyet.
And wherefore not ships?
No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
[Kath.]
You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest?
Boyet.
So you grant pasture for me.
[Offering to kiss her.]
[Kath.]
Not so, gentle beast.
My lips are no common, though several they be.
Boyet.
Belonging to whom?
[Kath.]
To my fortunes and me.
