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Boyet [Sings.]

And I cannot, cannot, cannot,

And I cannot, another can.

Exeunt [Rosaline and Katherine].

Cost.

By my troth, most pleasant. How both did fit it!

Mar.

A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit [it].

Boyet.

A mark! O, mark but that mark! a mark, says my lady!

Let the mark have a prick in’t, to mete at, if it may be.

Mar.

Wide a’ the bow-hand! I’ faith, your hand is out.

Cost.

Indeed ’a must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the clout.

Boyet.

And if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.

Cost.

Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the [pin].

Mar.

Come, come, you talk greasily, your lips grow foul.

Cost.

She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir, challenge her to bowl.

Boyet.

I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.

[Exeunt Boyet and Maria.]

Cost.

By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown!

Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down!

O’ my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar wit!

When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely as it were, so fit.