Jaq. Of Costard.
King. Where hadst thou it?
Cost. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
King. How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it? 200
Ber. A toy, my liege, a toy: your Grace needs not fear it.
Long. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it.
Dum. [Picking up the pieces.] It is Berowne's writing, and here is his name.
Ber. [To Costard.] Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were born to do me shame. 204
Guilty, my lord, guilty; I confess, I confess.
King. What?
Ber. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess;
He, he, and you, and you my liege, and I, 208
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.
Ber. True, true; we are four.
Will these turtles be gone?
King. Hence, sirs; away! 212
Cost. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
Ber. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O! let us embrace.
As true we are as flesh and blood can be:
The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; 216
207 mess: four persons at one table
212 turtles: turtle-doves, lovers
sirs; cf. n.
