BOYET.
She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.
LONGAVILLE.
Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
BOYET.
Her mother’s, I have heard.
LONGAVILLE.
God’s blessing on your beard!
BOYET.
Good sir, be not offended.
She is an heir of Falconbridge.
LONGAVILLE.
Nay, my choler is ended.
She is a most sweet lady.
BOYET.
Not unlike, sir; that may be.
[Exit Longaville.]
Enter Berowne.
BEROWNE.
What’s her name in the cap?