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.