Will they not (thinke you) hang themselues to night?
Or euer but in vizards shew their faces:
This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite
Rosa. They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping ripe for a good word
Qu. Berowne did sweare himselfe out of all suite
Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword:
No point (quoth I:) my seruant straight was mute
Ka. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
And trow you what he call'd me?
Qu. Qualme perhaps
Kat. Yes in good faith
Qu. Go sicknesse as thou art
Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plain statute caps,
But will you heare; the King is my loue sworne
Qu. And quicke Berowne hath plighted faith to me
Kat. And Longauill was for my seruice borne
Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree
Boyet. Madam, and prettie mistresses giue eare,
Immediately they will againe be heere
In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
They will digest this harsh indignitie
Qu. Will they returne?
Boy. They will they will, God knowes,
And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
Blow like sweet Roses, in this summer aire
Qu.
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