COSTARD
From my lord to my lady.
PRINCESS
From which lord to which lady?
COSTARD
From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline.
PRINCESS
Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.
To ROSALINE
Here, sweet, put up this: 'twill be thine another day.
Exeunt PRINCESS and train
BOYET
Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?
ROSALINE
Shall I teach you to know?
BOYET
Ay, my continent of beauty.
ROSALINE
Why, she that bears the bow.
Finely put off!
BOYET
My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,
Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on!
ROSALINE
Well, then, I am the shooter.
BOYET
And who is your deer?
ROSALINE
If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
Finely put on, indeed!
MARIA
You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes
at the brow.