ROSALINE Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
BIRON By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
FERDINAND Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
PRINCESS Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
[Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors]
Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?
BOYET Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.
ROSALINE Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
PRINCESS O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?
Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces?
This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.
ROSALINE O, they were all in lamentable cases!
The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.
PRINCESS Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
MARIA Dumain was at my service, and his sword:
No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
KATHARINE Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;
And trow you what he called me?
PRINCESS Qualm, perhaps.
KATHARINE Yes, in good faith.
PRINCESS Go, sickness as thou art!
ROSALINE Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.
PRINCESS And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
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