PRINCESS Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.
[Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA]
[Re-enter FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN,
in their proper habits]
FERDINAND Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess?
BOYET Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty
Command me any service to her thither?
FERDINAND That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
BOYET I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.
[Exit]
BIRON This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please:
He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve;
A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he
That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms: nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly; and in ushering
Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet;
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
This is the flower that smiles on every one,
To show his teeth as white as whale's bone;
And consciences, that will not die in debt,
Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.
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