COSTARD.
She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir. Challenge her to bowl.
BOYET.
I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.
[Exeunt Boyet and Maria.]
COSTARD.
By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown!
Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down!
O’ my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit.
Armado, o’ the one side, O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!
To see him kiss his hand and how most sweetly he will swear!
And his page o’ t’other side, that handful of wit!
Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit.
[Shout within.]
Sola, sola!
[Exit.]
SCENE II. The same
Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.
NATHANIEL.
Very reverend sport, truly, and done in the testimony of a good conscience.