BEROWNE Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
ROSALINE Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
BEROWNE I know you did.
ROSALINE How needless was it then
To ask the question.
BEROWNE You must not be so quick.
ROSALINE ’Tis long of you that spur me with such questions.
BEROWNE Your wit’s too hot, it speeds too fast; ’twill tire.
ROSALINE Not till it leave the rider in the mire. (2.1.116–24)
This exchange between Berowne and Rosaline offers an amusing glimpse into the way lords and ladies communicate—or, or often, miscommunicate—in this play. Chastened when Rosaline points out the pointlessness of his initial question, Berowne responds that she mustn’t be so “quick,” where quick means sharp and ill-tempered. But Rosaline strategically misunderstands Berowne, as indicated when she responds as if his “quick” simply meant “hasty.” She essentially tells him that he was the one who urged her on, like a rider spurring his horse. Now caught up on the sexual innuendo, Berowne tells her to hold her horses: her wit “speeds too fast; ‘twill tire.” But Rosaline is already prepared with another zinger: “Not till it leave the rider in the mire.” This playful mockery shows how the women’s wits leave the men’s in the dust. However, such mockery also arguably creates an unnecessary wedge that leads to further miscommunication.
ARMADO Some enigma, some riddle. Come, thy l’envoi begin.
COSTARD No egma, no riddle, no l’envoi, no salve in the mail, sir. O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! No l’envoi, no l’envoi, no salve, sir, but a plantain.
ARMADO By virtue, thou enforcest laughter. . . . Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l’envoi, and the word l’envoi for a salve? (3.1.76–84)
When Mote returns to Armado with Costard in custody, the page explains that the fool has injured his shin. Armado then invites Costard to tell what happened by saying, “Come, thy l’envoi begin.” L’envoi (pronounced lawn-vwa) is a term that refers to a poet’s parting words at the end of a poem. But Costard misunderstands, thinking Armado is speaking about some kind of medicine. Hence, Costard insists that there is “no l’envoi,” just as there is no “salve” to apply to the wound. Instead, he calls for “a plain plantain”—that is, a weed used for stanching blood. But Armado misunderstands Costard in turn, mishearing “salve” (i.e., a healing ointment) as “salve” (i.e., a Latin greeting). The Spaniard grows increasingly incensed at the confusion, which goes on at some length. This exchange is typical in the play, demonstrating how easily language slips into nonsense and derails conversation.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh when she’s disposed,
Told our intents before; which once disclosed,
The ladies did change favors; and then we,
Following the signs, wooed but the sign of she. (5.2.507–515)
In these lines, Berowne realizes the trick the Princess and the ladies played when the lords showed up in disguise as Russians. He reasons that someone must have told the ladies the lords were coming and organizes the trick for the Princess’s amusement. This is precisely what happened earlier in the scene, when the French lord Boyet alerted the ladies to the lords’ conceit. Boyet, then, is the villain Berowne calls “some mumble-news [i.e., tattle tale], some trencher-knight [i.e., parasite], some Dick.” Upon hearing Boyet’s announcement, the ladies donned masks and exchanged the gifts the lords had given them. This way, the lords were lured into courting the wrong ladies. By “following the signs” of the gifts, the men were thus “wooed” astray—though not by the women themselves, but by the mere “sign of she.” His phrasing here is striking for the way it employs the language of signs. Essentially, the problem is a linguistic one: the ladies created a mismatch between signifiers and what they signify, causing the lords to misread them and resulting in their humiliation.