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Ber.

I would you heard it groan.

Ros.

Is the fool sick?

Ber.

Sick at the heart.

Ros.

Alack, let it blood.

Ber.

Would that do it good?

Ros.

My physic says ay.

Ber.

Will you prick’t with your eye?

Ros.

No point, with my knife.

Ber.

Now God save thy life!

Ros.

And yours from long living!

Ber.

I cannot stay thanksgiving.

Exit.

Enter Dumaine.

Dum.

Sir, I pray you a word. What lady is that same?

Boyet.

The heir of Alanson, [Katherine] her name.

Dum.

A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well.

Exit.

[Enter Longaville.]

Long.

I beseech you a word. What is she in the white?

Boyet.

A woman sometimes, and you saw her in the light.

Long.

Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.

Boyet.

She hath but one for herself, to desire that were a shame.

Long.

Pray you, sir, whose daughter?

Boyet.

Her mother’s, I have heard.

Long.

God’s blessing on your beard!

Boyet.

Good sir, be not offended,

She is an heir of Falconbridge.

Long.

Nay, my choler is ended.