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Of Costard.
I beseech your grace, let this letter be read: Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said.
God bless the king!
Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life!
Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange queen's lords.
Good master Parson, be so good as read me this letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it.
God give you good morrow, master Parson.
Fair weather after you!
So I heard you say.
With that face?
Lord, how wise you are!
That's hereby.
Man?
