I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.

What says Maria?

So did our looks.

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

That columbine.

Stuck with cloves.

His leg is too big for Hector's.

The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.

One word in private with you, ere I die.

Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!
Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.

Let's part the word.

A calf, fair lady!

You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless vizard half.

I know the reason, lady, why you ask.

Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?

O, some authority how to proceed;
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.

Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see.

And since her time are colliers counted bright.

It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it.

Advancing Dumain, thy love is far from charity.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o'erheard and taken napping so.

And I had mine!

By whom shall I send this?--Company! stay.

This same shall go.
Reads
Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee ...

I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move:
O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

Am I the first that have been perjured so?

Ay me, I am forsworn!

Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.

God's blessing on your beard!

Pray you, sir, whose daughter?

Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.

I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?

To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to
forbear both.

A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!

Costard the swain and he shall be our sport;
And so to study, three years is but short.

To fright them hence with that dread penalty.

Marry, that did I.

Four days ago.

He weeds the corn and still lets grow the weeding.

You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest.

I am resolved; 'tis but a three years' fast:
The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits.