Fer. This Maid will not serue your turne sir
Clo. This Maide will serue my turne sir
Kin. Sir I will pronounce your sentence: You shall
fast a Weeke with Branne and water
Clo. I had rather pray a Moneth with Mutton and
Porridge
Kin. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
My Lord Berowne, see him deliuer'd ore,
And goe we Lords to put in practice that,
Which each to other hath so strongly sworne
Bero. Ile lay my head to any good mans hat,
These oathes and lawes will proue an idle scorne.
Sirra, come on
Clo. I suffer for the truth sir: for true it is, I was taken with Iaquenetta, and Iaquenetta is a true girle, and therefore welcome the sowre cup of prosperitie, affliction may one day smile againe, and vntill then sit downe sorrow. Enter.
Enter Armado and Moth his Page.
Arma. Boy, What signe is it when a man of great
spirit growes melancholy?
Boy. A great signe sir, that he will looke sad
Brag. Why? sadnesse is one and the selfe-same thing
deare impe