ARMADO.
Sing, boy. My spirit grows heavy in love.
MOTH.
And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.
ARMADO.
I say, sing.
MOTH.
Forbear till this company be past.
Enter Costard the Clown, Dull the Constable and Jaquenetta a Wench.
DULL.
Sir, the Duke’s pleasure is that you keep Costard safe; and you must suffer him to take no delight, nor no penance, but he must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park. She is allowed for the dey-woman. Fare you well.
ARMADO.
I do betray myself with blushing.—Maid.
JAQUENETTA.
Man.
ARMADO.
I will visit thee at the lodge.
JAQUENETTA.
That’s hereby.