[385] Ros. Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
Biron. Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this?
Ros. There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
That hid the worse, and show’d the better face.
King. We are descried; they’ll mock us now downright.
[390] Dum. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.
Prin. Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad?
[392] Ros. Help, hold his brows! he’ll swound! Why look you pale?
Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
Biron. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.