205 Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
Dum. Now the number is even.
Biron.
[207] True, true; we are four.
Will these turtles be gone?
King.
Hence, sirs; away!
[209] Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. [Exeunt Costard and Jaquenetta.
210 Biron. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace!