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Love's Labour's Lost by William Shakespeare
page 11 of 169 (06%)
And so to study three years is but short.

[Enter DULL, with a letter, and COSTARD.]

DULL.
Which is the duke's own person?

BEROWNE.
This, fellow. What wouldst?

DULL.
I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his Grace's
tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.

BEROWNE.
This is he.

DULL.
Signior Arm--Arm--commends you. There's villainy abroad:
this letter will tell you more.

COSTARD.
Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me.

KING.
A letter from the magnificent Armado.

BEROWNE.
How long soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.

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