Folger Shakespeare Library
http://www.folgerdigitaltexts.org
Contents
Front
Matter
From the Director of the Folger Shakespeare
Library
Textual Introduction
Synopsis
Characters in the Play
ACT 1
Scene 1
Scene 2
ACT 2
Scene 1
ACT 3
Scene 1
ACT 4
Scene 1
Scene 2
Scene 3
ACT 5
Scene 1
Scene 2
From the Director of the Folger Shakespeare Library
It is hard to imagine a world without Shakespeare. Since their
composition four hundred years ago, Shakespeare’s plays and poems
have traveled the globe, inviting those who see and read his works to
make them their own.
Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process
of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in
language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason,
new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile
a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These
expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for
study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts
of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as Folger
Digital Texts, we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who
wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis
for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their
origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the
single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An
unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and
artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been
consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions
also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of
Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theater.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul
Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s
works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a
richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers
who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow
the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger
either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital
resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend
to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
Textual Introduction
By Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine
Until now, with the release of the Folger Digital Texts, readers in
search of a free online text of Shakespeare’s plays had to be content
primarily with using the Moby™ Text, which reproduces a latenineteenth century version of the plays. What is the difference? Many
ordinary readers assume that there is a single text for the plays: what
Shakespeare wrote. But Shakespeare’s plays were not published the
way modern novels or plays are published today: as a single,
authoritative text. In some cases, the plays have come down to us in
multiple published versions, represented by various Quartos (Qq) and
by the great collection put together by his colleagues in 1623, called
the First Folio (F). There are, for example, three very different
versions of Hamlet, two of King Lear, Henry V, Romeo and Juliet,
and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and
then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the
other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more
accurate text.
Other editorial decisions involve choices about whether an unfamiliar
word could be understood in light of other writings of the period or
whether it should be changed; decisions about words that made it into
Shakespeare’s text by accident through four hundred years of
printings and misprinting; and even decisions based on cultural
preference and taste. When the Moby™ Text was created, for
example, it was deemed “improper” and “indecent” for Miranda to
chastise Caliban for having attempted to rape her. (See The Tempest,
1.2: “Abhorred slave,/Which any print of goodness wilt not
take,/Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee…”). All Shakespeare
editors at the time took the speech away from her and gave it to her
father, Prospero.
The editors of the Moby™ Shakespeare produced their text long
before scholars fully understood the proper grounds on which to make
the thousands of decisions that Shakespeare editors face. The Folger
Library Shakespeare Editions, on which the Folger Digital Texts
depend, make this editorial process as nearly transparent as is
possible, in contrast to older texts, like the Moby™, which hide
editorial interventions. The reader of the Folger Shakespeare knows
where the text has been altered because editorial interventions are
signaled by square brackets (for example, from Othello: “ If she in
chains of magic were not bound, ”), half-square brackets (for
example, from Henry V: “With blood and sword and fire to win your
right,”), or angle brackets (for example, from Hamlet: “O farewell,
honest soldier. Who hath relieved/you?”). At any point in the text,
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Because the Folger Digital Texts are edited in accord with twenty-first
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and pleased to be able to make this contribution to the study and
enjoyment of Shakespeare.
Synopsis
In Love’s Labor’s Lost, the comedy centers on four young men who
fall in love against their wills. The men, one of them the king of
Navarre, pledge to study for three years, avoiding all contact with
women. When the Princess of France arrives on a state visit, the king
insists she and her ladies camp outside the court. Even so, each young
man falls in love with one of the ladies.
Meanwhile, Don Armado, a Spanish soldier, falls for a servant girl,
Jacquenetta. Costard, an illiterate local, mixes up two letters he is to
deliver, one from Armado to Jacquenetta and the other from Berowne,
one of the king’s companions, to Rosaline, one of the French ladies.
The men confess they are in love, and devise a pageant for the ladies,
who set a trap for them by exchanging identifying markers. When
word comes that the princess’s father is dead, the ladies reject the
men’s proposals as rash and impose a year’s delay before any further
wooing.
Characters in the Play
KING
of Navarre, also known as Ferdinand
BEROWNE
LONGAVILLE
lords attending the King
DUMAINE
The PRINCESS of France
ROSALINE
ladies attending the Princess
MARIA
KATHERINE
BOYET,
a lord attending the Princess
ARMADO,
the BRAGGART, also known as Don Adriano de Armado
BOY, Armado’s PAGE, also known as MOTE
JAQUENETTA, the WENCH
COSTARD, the CLOWN or SWAIN
DULL, the CONSTABLE
HOLOFERNES, the PEDANT, or schoolmaster
NATHANIEL, the CURATE
FORESTER
MONSIEUR MARCADE,
a messenger from France
Lords, Blackamoors, Musicians
ACT 1
Scene 1
Enter Ferdinand, King of Navarre, Berowne,
Longaville, and Dumaine.
KING
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Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live registered upon our brazen tombs,
And then grace us in the disgrace of death,
When, spite of cormorant devouring time,
Th’ endeavor of this present breath may buy
That honor which shall bate his scythe’s keen edge
And make us heirs of all eternity.
Therefore, brave conquerors, for so you are
That war against your own affections
And the huge army of the world’s desires,
Our late edict shall strongly stand in force.
Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
Our court shall be a little academe,
Still and contemplative in living art.
You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longaville,
Have sworn for three years’ term to live with me,
My fellow scholars, and to keep those statutes
That are recorded in this schedule here.
He holds up a scroll.
Your oaths are passed, and now subscribe your
names,
That his own hand may strike his honor down
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
That violates the smallest branch herein.
If you are armed to do as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.
LONGAVILLE
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I am resolved. ’Tis but a three years’ fast.
The mind shall banquet though the body pine.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs but bankrout quite the wits.
He signs his name.
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DUMAINE
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My loving lord, Dumaine is mortified.
The grosser manner of these world’s delights
He throws upon the gross world’s baser slaves.
To love, to wealth, to pomp I pine and die,
With all these living in philosophy.
He signs his name.
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BEROWNE
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I can but say their protestation over.
So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
That is, to live and study here three years.
But there are other strict observances:
As not to see a woman in that term,
Which I hope well is not enrollèd there;
And one day in a week to touch no food,
And but one meal on every day besides,
The which I hope is not enrollèd there;
And then to sleep but three hours in the night,
And not be seen to wink of all the day—
When I was wont to think no harm all night,
And make a dark night too of half the day—
Which I hope well is not enrollèd there.
O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.
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KING
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Your oath is passed to pass away from these.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
BEROWNE
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Let me say no, my liege, an if you please.
I only swore to study with your Grace
And stay here in your court for three years’ space.
LONGAVILLE
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You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest.
BEROWNE
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By yea and nay, sir. Then I swore in jest.
What is the end of study, let me know?
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KING
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Why, that to know which else we should not know.
BEROWNE
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Things hid and barred, you mean, from common
sense.
KING
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Ay, that is study’s godlike recompense.
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BEROWNE
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Come on, then, I will swear to study so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus—to study where I well may dine,
When I to feast expressly am forbid;
Or study where to meet some mistress fine
When mistresses from common sense are hid;
Or having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath,
Study to break it, and not break my troth.
If study’s gain be thus, and this be so,
Study knows that which yet it doth not know.
Swear me to this, and I will ne’er say no.
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KING
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These be the stops that hinder study quite,
And train our intellects to vain delight.
BEROWNE
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Why, all delights are vain, and that most vain
Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain:
As painfully to pore upon a book
To seek the light of truth, while truth the while
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile.
So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
Study me how to please the eye indeed
By fixing it upon a fairer eye,
Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed
And give him light that it was blinded by.
Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun,
That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks.
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others’ books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights,
That give a name to every fixèd star,
Have no more profit of their shining nights
Than those that walk and wot not what they are.
Too much to know is to know naught but fame,
And every godfather can give a name.
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KING
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How well he’s read to reason against reading.
DUMAINE
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Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding.
LONGAVILLE
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He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.
BEROWNE
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The spring is near when green geese are a-breeding.
DUMAINE
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How follows that?
BEROWNE
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Fit in his place and time.
DUMAINE
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In reason nothing.
BEROWNE
Something then in rhyme.
KING
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Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost
That bites the firstborn infants of the spring.
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ACT 1. SC. 1
BEROWNE
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Well, say I am. Why should proud summer boast
Before the birds have any cause to sing?
Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled shows,
But like of each thing that in season grows.
So you, to study now it is too late,
Climb o’er the house to unlock the little gate.
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KING
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Well, sit you out. Go home, Berowne. Adieu.
BEROWNE
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No, my good lord, I have sworn to stay with you.
And though I have for barbarism spoke more
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet, confident, I’ll keep what I have sworn
And bide the penance of each three years’ day.
Give me the paper. Let me read the same,
And to the strictest decrees I’ll write my name.
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KING
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How well this yielding rescues thee from shame.
BEROWNE reads
Item, That no woman shall come within
a mile of my court. Hath this been proclaimed?
LONGAVILLE Four days ago.
BEROWNE Let’s see the penalty. Reads: On pain of
losing her tongue. Who devised this penalty?
LONGAVILLE Marry, that did I.
BEROWNE Sweet lord, and why?
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LONGAVILLE
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To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
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BEROWNE
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A dangerous law against gentility.
Reads: Item, If any man be seen to talk with a
woman within the term of three years, he shall endure
such public shame as the rest of the court can possible
devise.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
This article, my liege, yourself must break,
For well you know here comes in embassy
The French king’s daughter with yourself to speak—
A maid of grace and complete majesty—
About surrender up of Aquitaine
To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father.
Therefore this article is made in vain,
Or vainly comes th’ admirèd princess hither.
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KING
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What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot.
BEROWNE
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So study evermore is overshot.
While it doth study to have what it would,
It doth forget to do the thing it should.
And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
’Tis won as towns with fire—so won, so lost.
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KING
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We must of force dispense with this decree.
She must lie here on mere necessity.
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Necessity will make us all forsworn
Three thousand times within this three years’
space;
For every man with his affects is born,
Not by might mastered, but by special grace.
If I break faith, this word shall speak for me:
I am forsworn on mere necessity.
So to the laws at large I write my name,
And he that breaks them in the least degree
Stands in attainder of eternal shame.
Suggestions are to other as to me,
But I believe, although I seem so loath,
I am the last that will last keep his oath.
He signs his name.
But is there no quick recreation granted?
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
KING
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Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted
With a refinèd traveler of Spain,
A man in all the world’s new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
One who the music of his own vain tongue
Doth ravish like enchanting harmony,
A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny.
This child of fancy, that Armado hight,
For interim to our studies shall relate
In high-born words the worth of many a knight
From tawny Spain lost in the world’s debate.
How you delight, my lords, I know not, I,
But I protest I love to hear him lie,
And I will use him for my minstrelsy.
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BEROWNE
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Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire-new words, fashion’s own knight.
LONGAVILLE
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Costard the swain and he shall be our sport,
And so to study three years is but short.
Enter Dull, a Constable, with a letter, and Costard.
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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 farborough. But I would see his own
person in flesh and blood.
BEROWNE This is he.
DULL, to King
Signior Arm-, Arm-, commends you.
There’s villainy abroad. This letter will tell you
more.
He gives the letter to the King.
COSTARD Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching
me.
KING A letter from the magnificent Armado.
DULL
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
How low soever the matter, I hope in God
for high words.
LONGAVILLE A high hope for a low heaven. God grant
us patience!
BEROWNE To hear, or forbear hearing?
LONGAVILLE To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately,
or to forbear both.
BEROWNE Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause
to climb in the merriness.
COSTARD The matter is to me, sir, as concerning
Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with
the manner.
BEROWNE In what manner?
COSTARD In manner and form following, sir, all those
three. I was seen with her in the manor house,
sitting with her upon the form, and taken following
her into the park, which, put together, is “in manner
and form following.” Now, sir, for the manner.
It is the manner of a man to speak to a woman. For
the form—in some form.
BEROWNE For the “following,” sir?
COSTARD As it shall follow in my correction, and God
defend the right.
KING Will you hear this letter with attention?
BEROWNE As we would hear an oracle.
COSTARD Such is the sinplicity of man to hearken after
the flesh.
KING reads
Great deputy, the welkin’s vicegerent and
sole dominator of Navarre, my soul’s earth’s god, and
body’s fost’ring patron—
COSTARD Not a word of Costard yet.
KING reads
So it is—
COSTARD It may be so, but if he say it is so, he is, in
telling true, but so.
KING Peace.
COSTARD Be to me, and every man that dares not fight.
BEROWNE
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
No words.
COSTARD Of other men’s secrets, I beseech you.
KING reads
So it is, besieged with sable-colored melancholy,
I did commend the black oppressing humor
to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air;
and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The
time when? About the sixth hour, when beasts most
graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that
nourishment which is called supper. So much for the
time when. Now for the ground which—which, I
mean, I walked upon. It is yclept thy park. Then for the
place where—where, I mean, I did encounter that
obscene and most prepost’rous event that draweth
from my snow-white pen the ebon-colored ink, which
here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest. But to
the place where. It standeth north-north-east and by
east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted
garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain, that
base minnow of thy mirth,—
COSTARD Me?
KING reads
that unlettered, small-knowing soul,—
COSTARD Me?
KING reads
that shallow vassal,—
COSTARD Still me?
KING reads
which, as I remember, hight Costard,—
COSTARD O, me!
KING reads
sorted and consorted, contrary to thy
established proclaimed edict and continent canon,
which with—O with—but with this I passion to say
wherewith—
COSTARD With a wench.
KING reads
with a child of our grandmother Eve, a
female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a
woman: him, I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks
me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of
punishment by thy sweet Grace’s officer, Anthony
KING
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 1
Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and
estimation.
DULL Me, an ’t shall please you. I am Anthony Dull.
KING reads
For Jaquenetta—so is the weaker vessel
called which I apprehended with the aforesaid
swain—I keep her as a vessel of thy law’s fury, and
shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial.
Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heartburning
heat of duty,
Don Adriano de Armado.
BEROWNE This is not so well as I looked for, but the
best that ever I heard.
KING Ay, the best, for the worst. To Costard. But,
sirrah, what say you to this?
COSTARD Sir, I confess the wench.
KING Did you hear the proclamation?
COSTARD I do confess much of the hearing it, but little
of the marking of it.
KING It was proclaimed a year’s imprisonment to be
taken with a wench.
COSTARD I was taken with none, sir. I was taken with a
damsel.
KING Well, it was proclaimed “damsel.”
COSTARD This was no damsel neither, sir. She was a
virgin.
BEROWNE It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed
“virgin.”
COSTARD If it were, I deny her virginity. I was taken
with a maid.
KING This “maid” will not serve your turn, sir.
COSTARD This maid will serve my turn, sir.
KING Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall
fast a week with bran and water.
COSTARD I had rather pray a month with mutton and
porridge.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
My Lord Berowne, see him delivered o’er,
And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
King, Longaville, and Dumaine exit.
KING
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I’ll lay my head to any goodman’s hat,
These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
Sirrah, come on.
COSTARD I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is I was
taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true
girl. And therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity.
Affliction may one day smile again, and till
then, sit thee down, sorrow.
They exit.
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Scene 2
Enter Armado and Mote, his page.
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Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit
grows melancholy?
BOY A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.
ARMADO Why, sadness is one and the selfsame thing,
dear imp.
BOY No, no. O Lord, sir, no!
ARMADO How canst thou part sadness and melancholy,
my tender juvenal?
BOY By a familiar demonstration of the working, my
tough signior.
ARMADO Why “tough signior”? Why “tough signior”?
BOY Why “tender juvenal”? Why “tender juvenal”?
ARMADO I spoke it “tender juvenal” as a congruent
epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which
we may nominate “tender.”
ARMADO
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
And I “tough signior” as an appurtenant title to
your old time, which we may name “tough.”
ARMADO Pretty and apt.
BOY How mean you, sir? I pretty and my saying apt, or
I apt and my saying pretty?
ARMADO Thou pretty because little.
BOY Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
ARMADO And therefore apt, because quick.
BOY Speak you this in my praise, master?
ARMADO In thy condign praise.
BOY I will praise an eel with the same praise.
ARMADO What, that an eel is ingenious?
BOY That an eel is quick.
ARMADO I do say thou art quick in answers. Thou
heat’st my blood.
BOY I am answered, sir.
ARMADO I love not to be crossed.
BOY , aside
He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love
not him.
ARMADO I have promised to study three years with the
Duke.
BOY You may do it in an hour, sir.
ARMADO Impossible.
BOY How many is one thrice told?
ARMADO I am ill at reckoning. It fitteth the spirit of a
tapster.
BOY You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.
ARMADO I confess both. They are both the varnish of a
complete man.
BOY Then I am sure you know how much the gross
sum of deuce-ace amounts to.
ARMADO It doth amount to one more than two.
BOY Which the base vulgar do call “three.”
ARMADO True.
BOY Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is
“three” studied ere you’ll thrice wink. And how
BOY
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
easy it is to put “years” to the word “three” and
study “three years” in two words, the dancing horse
will tell you.
ARMADO A most fine figure.
BOY , aside
To prove you a cipher.
ARMADO I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it
is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a
base wench. If drawing my sword against the
humor of affection would deliver me from the
reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner
and ransom him to any French courtier for a
new-devised curtsy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks
I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What
great men have been in love?
BOY Hercules, master.
ARMADO Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear
boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be
men of good repute and carriage.
BOY Samson, master; he was a man of good carriage,
great carriage, for he carried the town gates on his
back like a porter, and he was in love.
ARMADO O, well-knit Samson, strong-jointed Samson;
I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst
me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was
Samson’s love, my dear Mote?
BOY A woman, master.
ARMADO Of what complexion?
BOY Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of
the four.
ARMADO Tell me precisely of what complexion.
BOY Of the sea-water green, sir.
ARMADO Is that one of the four complexions?
BOY As I have read, sir, and the best of them too.
ARMADO Green indeed is the color of lovers. But to
have a love of that color, methinks Samson had
small reason for it. He surely affected her for her
wit.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
It was so, sir, for she had a green wit.
ARMADO My love is most immaculate white and red.
BOY Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked
under such colors.
ARMADO Define, define, well-educated infant.
BOY My father’s wit and my mother’s tongue, assist
me.
ARMADO Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty and
pathetical.
BOY
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BOY
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If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne’er be known,
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale white shown.
Then if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheeks possess the same
Which native she doth owe.
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of
white and red.
ARMADO Is there not a ballad, boy, of “The King and
the Beggar”?
BOY The world was very guilty of such a ballad some
three ages since, but I think now ’tis not to be found;
or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing
nor the tune.
ARMADO I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I
may example my digression by some mighty precedent.
Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in
the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves
well.
BOY , aside
To be whipped—and yet a better love than
my master.
ARMADO Sing, boy. My spirit grows heavy in love.
BOY , aside
And that’s great marvel, loving a light
wench.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
I say sing.
Forbear till this company be past.
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BOY
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Enter Clown ( Costard, ) Constable ( Dull, ) and Wench
( Jaquenetta. )
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DULL,
to Armado
Sir, the Duke’s pleasure is that you
keep Costard safe, and you must suffer him to take
no delight, nor no penance, but he must fast three
days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the
park. She is allowed for the dey-woman. Fare you
well.
ARMADO, aside
I do betray myself with blushing.—
Maid.
JAQUENETTA Man.
ARMADO I will visit thee at the lodge.
JAQUENETTA That’s hereby.
ARMADO I know where it is situate.
JAQUENETTA Lord, how wise you are.
ARMADO I will tell thee wonders.
JAQUENETTA With that face?
ARMADO I love thee.
JAQUENETTA So I heard you say.
ARMADO And so, farewell.
JAQUENETTA Fair weather after you.
Come, Jaquenetta, away.
DULL
Dull and Jaquenetta exit.
ARMADO, to Costard
Villain, thou shalt fast for thy
offenses ere thou be pardoned.
COSTARD Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on
a full stomach.
ARMADO Thou shalt be heavily punished.
COSTARD I am more bound to you than your fellows,
for they are but lightly rewarded.
ARMADO, to Boy
Take away this villain. Shut him up.
BOY Come, you transgressing slave, away.
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COSTARD,
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 1. SC. 2
to Armado
Let me not be pent up, sir. I will
fast being loose.
BOY No, sir, that were fast and loose. Thou shalt to
prison.
COSTARD Well, if ever I do see the merry days of
desolation that I have seen, some shall see.
BOY What shall some see?
COSTARD Nay, nothing, Master Mote, but what they
look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in
their words, and therefore I will say nothing. I thank
God I have as little patience as another man, and
therefore I can be quiet.
Costard and Boy exit.
ARMADO I do affect the very ground (which is base)
where her shoe (which is baser) guided by her foot
(which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn
(which is a great argument of falsehood) if I love.
And how can that be true love which is falsely
attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil. There is
no evil angel but love, yet was Samson so tempted,
and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon
so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid’s
butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules’ club, and therefore
too much odds for a Spaniard’s rapier. The first
and second cause will not serve my turn; the
passado he respects not, the duello he regards not.
His disgrace is to be called “boy,” but his glory is to
subdue men. Adieu, valor; rust, rapier; be still,
drum, for your manager is in love. Yea, he loveth.
Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am
sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise wit, write pen, for I
am for whole volumes in folio.
He exits.
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ACT 2
Scene 1
Enter the Princess of France, with three attending
Ladies ( Rosaline, Maria, and Katherine), Boyet
and other Lords.
BOYET
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Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits.
Consider who the King your father sends,
To whom he sends, and what’s his embassy.
Yourself, held precious in the world’s esteem,
To parley with the sole inheritor
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.
Be now as prodigal of all dear grace
As nature was in making graces dear
When she did starve the general world besides
And prodigally gave them all to you.
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PRINCESS
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Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise.
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not uttered by base sale of chapmen’s tongues.
I am less proud to hear you tell my worth
Than you much willing to be counted wise
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to task the tasker: good Boyet,
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 2. SC. 1
You are not ignorant all-telling fame
Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a vow,
Till painful study shall outwear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court.
Therefore to ’s seemeth it a needful course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalf,
Bold of your worthiness, we single you
As our best-moving fair solicitor.
Tell him the daughter of the King of France
On serious business craving quick dispatch,
Importunes personal conference with his Grace.
Haste, signify so much, while we attend,
Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will.
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BOYET
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Proud of employment, willingly I go.
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PRINCESS
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All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.
Boyet exits.
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Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
A LORD
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Lord Longaville is one.
PRINCESS
Know you the man?
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MARIA
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I know him, madam. At a marriage feast
Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnizèd
In Normandy, saw I this Longaville.
A man of sovereign parts he is esteemed,
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms.
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The only soil of his fair virtue’s gloss,
If virtue’s gloss will stain with any soil,
Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will,
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
It should none spare that come within his power.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
PRINCESS
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Some merry mocking lord, belike. Is ’t so?
MARIA
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They say so most that most his humors know.
PRINCESS
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Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
55
KATHERINE
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The young Dumaine, a well-accomplished youth,
Of all that virtue love for virtue loved.
Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alanson’s once,
And much too little of that good I saw
Is my report to his great worthiness.
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ROSALINE
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Another of these students at that time
Was there with him, if I have heard a truth.
Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour’s talk withal.
His eye begets occasion for his wit,
For every object that the one doth catch
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
Which his fair tongue, conceit’s expositor,
Delivers in such apt and gracious words
That agèd ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravishèd,
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
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PRINCESS
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God bless my ladies, are they all in love,
That every one her own hath garnishèd
With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
A LORD
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Here comes Boyet.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
Enter Boyet.
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PRINCESS
Now, what admittance, lord?
BOYET
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Navarre had notice of your fair approach,
And he and his competitors in oath
Were all addressed to meet you, gentle lady,
Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learned:
He rather means to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes here to besiege his court,
Than seek a dispensation for his oath
To let you enter his unpeopled house.
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Enter King of Navarre, Longaville, Dumaine, and
Berowne.
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Here comes Navarre.
KING Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.
PRINCESS “Fair” I give you back again, and “welcome”
I have not yet. The roof of this court is too
high to be yours, and welcome to the wide fields too
base to be mine.
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KING
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You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.
PRINCESS
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I will be welcome, then. Conduct me thither.
KING
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Hear me, dear lady. I have sworn an oath.
PRINCESS
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Our Lady help my lord! He’ll be forsworn.
KING
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Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
PRINCESS
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Why, will shall break it, will and nothing else.
KING
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Your Ladyship is ignorant what it is.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
PRINCESS
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Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
I hear your Grace hath sworn out housekeeping.
’Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
And sin to break it.
But pardon me, I am too sudden bold.
To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
And suddenly resolve me in my suit.
She gives him a paper.
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KING
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Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
PRINCESS
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You will the sooner that I were away,
For you’ll prove perjured if you make me stay.
They walk aside while the King reads the paper.
BEROWNE , to Rosaline
Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
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ROSALINE
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Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
BEROWNE
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I know you did.
How needless was it then
To ask the question.
BEROWNE
You must not be so quick.
ROSALINE
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ROSALINE
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’Tis long of you that spur me with such questions.
BEROWNE
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Your wit’s too hot, it speeds too fast; ’twill tire.
ROSALINE
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Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
BEROWNE
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What time o’ day?
ROSALINE
BEROWNE
The hour that fools should ask.
Now fair befall your mask.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
Fair fall the face it covers.
BEROWNE And send you many lovers.
Amen, so you be none.
ROSALINE
BEROWNE Nay, then, will I be gone.
KING , coming forward with the Princess
Madam, your father here doth intimate
The payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
Being but the one half of an entire sum
Disbursèd by my father in his wars.
But say that he or we, as neither have,
Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid
A hundred thousand more, in surety of the which
One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,
Although not valued to the money’s worth.
If then the King your father will restore
But that one half which is unsatisfied,
We will give up our right in Aquitaine,
And hold fair friendship with his Majesty.
But that, it seems, he little purposeth;
For here he doth demand to have repaid
A hundred thousand crowns, and not demands,
On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
To have his title live in Aquitaine—
Which we much rather had depart withal,
And have the money by our father lent,
Than Aquitaine, so gelded as it is.
Dear Princess, were not his requests so far
From reason’s yielding, your fair self should make
A yielding ’gainst some reason in my breast,
And go well satisfied to France again.
ACT 2. SC. 1
ROSALINE
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PRINCESS
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You do the King my father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so unseeming to confess receipt
Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
KING
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I do protest I never heard of it;
And if you prove it, I’ll repay it back
Or yield up Aquitaine.
PRINCESS
We arrest your word.—
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a sum from special officers
Of Charles his father.
KING
Satisfy me so.
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BOYET
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So please your Grace, the packet is not come
Where that and other specialties are bound.
Tomorrow you shall have a sight of them.
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KING
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It shall suffice me; at which interview
All liberal reason I will yield unto.
Meantime receive such welcome at my hand
As honor (without breach of honor) may
Make tender of to thy true worthiness.
You may not come, fair princess, within my gates,
But here without you shall be so received
As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
Though so denied fair harbor in my house.
Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell.
Tomorrow shall we visit you again.
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PRINCESS
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Sweet health and fair desires consort your Grace.
KING
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Thy own wish wish I thee in every place.
He exits with Dumaine,
Longaville, and Attendants.
BEROWNE , to Rosaline
Lady, I will commend you to
my own heart.
ROSALINE Pray you, do my commendations. I would
be glad to see it.
BEROWNE I would you heard it groan.
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BEROWNE
Love’s Labor’s Lost
Is the fool sick?
Sick at the heart.
Alack, let it blood.
Would that do it good?
My physic says “ay.”
Will you prick ’t with your eye?
No point, with my knife.
Now God save thy life.
And yours from long living.
I cannot stay thanksgiving.
ACT 2. SC. 1
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He exits.
Enter Dumaine.
DUMAINE ,
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to Boyet
Sir, I pray you, a word. What lady is that same?
200
BOYET
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The heir of Alanson, Katherine her name.
DUMAINE
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A gallant lady, monsieur. Fare you well.
He exits.
Enter Longaville.
LONGAVILLE ,
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to Boyet
I beseech you, a word. What is she in the white?
BOYET
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A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
LONGAVILLE
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Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.
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BOYET
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She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a
shame.
LONGAVILLE Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
BOYET Her mother’s, I have heard.
LONGAVILLE God’s blessing on your beard!
BOYET Good sir, be not offended. She is an heir of
Falconbridge.
LONGAVILLE Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most
sweet lady.
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BOYET
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 2. SC. 1
Not unlike, sir, that may be.
215
Longaville exits.
Enter Berowne.
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BEROWNE ,
to Boyet
What’s her name in the cap?
BOYET
Rosaline, by good hap.
BEROWNE Is she wedded or no?
BOYET To her will, sir, or so.
BEROWNE You are welcome, sir. Adieu.
BOYET Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
Berowne exits.
220
MARIA
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That last is Berowne, the merry madcap lord.
Not a word with him but a jest.
BOYET
And every jest but
a word.
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PRINCESS
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It was well done of you to take him at his word.
BOYET
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I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.
KATHERINE
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Two hot sheeps, marry.
And wherefore not ships?
No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
BOYET
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KATHERINE
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You sheep and I pasture. Shall that finish the jest?
BOYET
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So you grant pasture for me.
He tries to kiss her.
Not so, gentle beast,
KATHERINE
My lips are no common, though several they be.
BOYET
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Belonging to whom?
KATHERINE
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To my fortunes and me.
PRINCESS
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Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree,
This civil war of wits were much better used
On Navarre and his bookmen, for here ’tis abused.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
BOYET
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If my observation, which very seldom lies,
By the heart’s still rhetoric, disclosèd wi’ th’ eyes,
Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
PRINCESS With what?
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BOYET
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With that which we lovers entitle “affected.”
PRINCESS Your reason?
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BOYET
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Why, all his behaviors did make their retire
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
His heart like an agate with your print impressed,
Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed.
His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
All senses to that sense did make their repair,
To feel only looking on fairest of fair.
Methought all his senses were locked in his eye,
As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy,
Who, tend’ring their own worth from where they
were glassed,
Did point you to buy them along as you passed.
His face’s own margent did quote such amazes
That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
I’ll give you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
PRINCESS, to her Ladies
Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is disposed.
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BOYET
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But to speak that in words which his eye hath
disclosed.
I only have made a mouth of his eye
By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
MARIA
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Thou art an old lovemonger and speakest skillfully.
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ACT 2. SC. 1
KATHERINE
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He is Cupid’s grandfather, and learns news of him.
ROSALINE
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Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is
but grim.
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BOYET
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Do you hear, my mad wenches?
MARIA
BOYET
No.
What then, do
you see?
275
MARIA
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Ay, our way to be gone.
BOYET
You are too hard for me.
They all exit.
ACT 3
Scene 1
Enter Braggart Armado and his Boy.
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Warble, child, make passionate my sense of
hearing.
BOY sings
Concolinel.
ARMADO Sweet air. Go, tenderness of years. He hands
over a key. Take this key, give enlargement to the
swain, bring him festinately hither. I must employ
him in a letter to my love.
BOY Master, will you win your love with a French
brawl?
ARMADO How meanest thou? Brawling in French?
BOY No, my complete master, but to jig off a tune at the
tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humor it
with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a
note, sometimes through the throat as if you
swallowed love with singing love, sometimes
through the nose as if you snuffed up love by
smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the
shop of your eyes, with your arms crossed on your
thin-belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your
hands in your pocket like a man after the old
painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a
snip and away. These are compliments, these are
humors; these betray nice wenches that would be
betrayed without these, and make them men of
65
ARMADO
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
note—do you note me? —that most are affected
to these.
ARMADO How hast thou purchased this experience?
BOY By my penny of observation.
ARMADO But O— but O—.
BOY “The hobby-horse is forgot.”
ARMADO Call’st thou my love “hobby-horse”?
BOY No, master. The hobby-horse is but a colt, aside
and your love perhaps a hackney.—But have you
forgot your love?
ARMADO Almost I had.
BOY Negligent student, learn her by heart.
ARMADO By heart and in heart, boy.
BOY And out of heart, master. All those three I will
prove.
ARMADO What wilt thou prove?
BOY A man, if I live; and this “by, in, and without,”
upon the instant: “by” heart you love her, because
your heart cannot come by her; “in” heart you love
her, because your heart is in love with her; and
“out” of heart you love her, being out of heart that
you cannot enjoy her.
ARMADO I am all these three.
BOY And three times as much more, aside and yet
nothing at all.
ARMADO Fetch hither the swain. He must carry me a
letter.
BOY A message well sympathized—a horse to be ambassador
for an ass.
ARMADO Ha? Ha? What sayest thou?
BOY Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse,
for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
ARMADO The way is but short. Away!
BOY As swift as lead, sir.
ARMADO
Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
BOY
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Minime, honest master, or rather, master, no.
ARMADO
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I say lead is slow.
You are too swift, sir, to say so.
Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
ARMADO Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
He reputes me a cannon, and the bullet, that’s
he.—
I shoot thee at the swain.
BOY
Thump, then, and I flee.
He exits.
BOY
65
ARMADO
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A most acute juvenal, voluble and free of grace.
By thy favor, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
Most rude melancholy, valor gives thee place.
My herald is returned.
70
Enter Boy and Clown Costard.
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A wonder, master!
Here’s a costard broken in a shin.
BOY
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ARMADO
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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; thy silly
thought, my spleen. The heaving of my lungs
provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O pardon me,
my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for
l’envoi, and the word l’envoi for a salve?
80
BOY
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Do the wise think them other? Is not l’envoi a salve?
ARMADO
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No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
I will example it:
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
Were still at odds, being but three.
There’s the moral. Now the l’envoi.
BOY I will add the l’envoi. Say the moral again.
90
ARMADO
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
Were still at odds, being but three.
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BOY
Until the goose came out of door
And stayed the odds by adding four.
Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with
my l’envoi.
The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
Were still at odds, being but three.
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ARMADO
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BOY
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Until the goose came out of door,
Staying the odds by adding four.
A good l’envoi, ending in the goose. Would you
desire more?
COSTARD
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The boy hath sold him a bargain—a goose, that’s
flat.—
Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and
loose.
Let me see: a fat l’envoi—ay, that’s a fat goose.
ARMADO
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Come hither, come hither. How did this argument
begin?
BOY
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By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
Then called you for the l’envoi.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your
argument in. Then the boy’s fat l’envoi, the goose
that you bought; and he ended the market.
ARMADO But tell me, how was there a costard broken
in a shin?
BOY I will tell you sensibly.
COSTARD Thou hast no feeling of it, Mote. I will speak
that l’envoi.
I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.
ARMADO We will talk no more of this matter.
COSTARD Till there be more matter in the shin.
ARMADO Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
COSTARD O, marry me to one Frances! I smell some
l’envoi, some goose, in this.
ARMADO By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at
liberty, enfreedoming thy person. Thou wert immured,
restrained, captivated, bound.
COSTARD True, true; and now you will be my purgation,
and let me loose.
ARMADO I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance,
and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but
this: bear this significant to the country maid
Jaquenetta. ( He gives him a paper. ) There is remuneration
( giving him a coin, ) for the best ward of
mine honor is rewarding my dependents.—Mote,
follow.
He exits.
BOY Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
He exits.
COSTARD
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COSTARD
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My sweet ounce of man’s flesh, my incony Jew!
Now will I look to his remuneration. He looks at the
coin. “Remuneration”! O, that’s the Latin word for
three farthings. Three farthings—remuneration.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
“What’s the price of this inkle?” “One penny.” “No,
I’ll give you a remuneration.” Why, it carries it!
Remuneration. Why, it is a fairer name than “French
crown.” I will never buy and sell out of this word.
150
Enter Berowne.
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BEROWNE
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met.
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My good knave Costard, exceedingly well
Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon
may a man buy for a remuneration?
BEROWNE What is a remuneration?
COSTARD Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
BEROWNE Why then, three farthing worth of silk.
COSTARD I thank your Worship. God be wi’ you.
He begins to exit.
BEROWNE Stay, slave, I must employ thee.
As thou wilt win my favor, good my knave,
Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
COSTARD When would you have it done, sir?
BEROWNE This afternoon.
COSTARD Well, I will do it, sir. Fare you well.
BEROWNE Thou knowest not what it is.
COSTARD I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
BEROWNE Why, villain, thou must know first.
COSTARD I will come to your Worship tomorrow
morning.
BEROWNE It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave,
it is but this:
The Princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady.
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her
name,
And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her,
And to her white hand see thou do commend
COSTARD
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ACT 3. SC. 1
This sealed-up counsel. There’s thy guerdon. He
gives him money. Go.
COSTARD Gardon. He looks at the money. O sweet
gardon! Better than remuneration, a ’levenpence
farthing better! Most sweet gardon. I will do it, sir,
in print. Gardon! Remuneration!
He exits.
180
BEROWNE
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And I forsooth in love! I that have been love’s whip,
A very beadle to a humorous sigh,
A critic, nay, a nightwatch constable,
A domineering pedant o’er the boy,
Than whom no mortal so magnificent.
This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
This Signior Junior, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid,
Regent of love rhymes, lord of folded arms,
Th’ anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
Sole imperator and great general
Of trotting paritors—O my little heart!
And I to be a corporal of his field
And wear his colors like a tumbler’s hoop!
What? I love, I sue, I seek a wife?
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watched that it may still go right.
Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all.
And, among three, to love the worst of all,
A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes.
Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard.
And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
To pray for her! Go to. It is a plague
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, groan.
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.
215
He exits.
ACT 4
Scene 1
Enter the Princess, a Forester, her Ladies, Boyet and
her other Lords.
PRINCESS
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Was that the King that spurred his horse so hard
Against the steep uprising of the hill?
FORESTER
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I know not, but I think it was not he.
PRINCESS
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Whoe’er he was, he showed a mounting mind.—
Well, lords, today we shall have our dispatch.
Or Saturday we will return to France.—
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
That we must stand and play the murderer in?
5
FORESTER
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Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice,
A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.
10
PRINCESS
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I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speakst “the fairest shoot.”
FORESTER
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Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
PRINCESS
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What, what? First praise me, and again say no?
O short-lived pride. Not fair? Alack, for woe!
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ACT 4. SC. 1
FORESTER
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Yes, madam, fair.
Nay, never paint me now.
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true.
She gives him money.
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
PRINCESS
20
FORESTER
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Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
PRINCESS
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See, see, my beauty will be saved by merit.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
But come, the bow. He hands her a bow. Now
mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do ’t;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
And out of question so it is sometimes:
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
When for fame’s sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart;
As I for praise alone now seek to spill
The poor deer’s blood, that my heart means no ill.
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BOYET
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Do not curst wives hold that self sovereignty
Only for praise’ sake when they strive to be
Lords o’er their lords?
PRINCESS
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Only for praise; and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord.
Enter Clown Costard.
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ACT 4. SC. 1
BOYET
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Here comes a member of the commonwealth.
COSTARD God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the
head lady?
PRINCESS Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that
have no heads.
COSTARD Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
PRINCESS The thickest and the tallest.
45
COSTARD
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The thickest and the tallest: it is so, truth is
truth.
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One o’ these maids’ girdles for your waist should be
fit.
Are not you the chief woman? You are the thickest
here.
PRINCESS What’s your will, sir? What’s your will?
COSTARD I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to
one Lady Rosaline.
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PRINCESS
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O, thy letter, thy letter! He’s a good friend of mine.
Stand aside, good bearer.—Boyet, you can carve.
Break up this capon.
BOYET , taking the letter
I am bound to serve.
This letter is mistook; it importeth none here.
It is writ to Jaquenetta.
PRINCESS
We will read it, I swear.
Break the neck of the wax, and everyone give ear.
BOYET reads. By heaven, that thou art fair is most
infallible, true that thou art beauteous, truth itself
that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful
than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration
on thy heroical vassal. The magnanimous and
most illustrate King Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious
and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it
was that might rightly say “Veni, vidi, vici,” which to
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 1
annothanize in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar!)
videlicet, “He came, see, and overcame”: He
came, one; see, two; overcame, three. Who came? The
King. Why did he come? To see. Why did he see? To
overcome. To whom came he? To the beggar. What
saw he? The beggar. Who overcame he? The beggar.
The conclusion is victory. On whose side? The
King’s. The captive is enriched. On whose side? The
beggar’s. The catastrophe is a nuptial. On whose side?
The King’s—no, on both in one, or one in both. I am
the King, for so stands the comparison; thou the
beggar, for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command
thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could.
Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou
exchange for rags? Robes. For tittles? Titles. For thyself?
Me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy
foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every
part.
Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
Don Adriano de Armado.
Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
’Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey.
Submissive fall his princely feet before,
And he from forage will incline to play.
But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
Food for his rage, repasture for his den.
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PRINCESS
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What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter?
What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear
better?
BOYET
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I am much deceived but I remember the style.
PRINCESS
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Else your memory is bad, going o’er it erewhile.
BOYET
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This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court,
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 1
A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes
sport
To the Prince and his bookmates.
PRINCESS, to Costard
Thou, fellow, a word.
Who gave thee this letter?
COSTARD
I told you: my lord.
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PRINCESS
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To whom shouldst thou give it?
From my lord to my
COSTARD
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lady.
PRINCESS
From which lord to which lady?
COSTARD
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From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
To a lady of France that he called Rosaline.
PRINCESS
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Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.
To Rosaline. Here, sweet, put up this; ’twill be
thine another day.
The Princess, Katherine, Lords, and
Forester exit. Boyet, Rosaline, Maria,
and Costard remain.
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BOYET
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Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter?
ROSALINE
Shall I
teach you to know?
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BOYET
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Ay, my continent of beauty.
ROSALINE
Why, she that bears the bow.
Finely put off.
BOYET
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My lady goes to kill horns, but if thou marry,
Hang me by the neck if horns that year miscarry.
Finely put on.
ROSALINE
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Well, then, I am the shooter.
BOYET
And who is your deer?
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ACT 4. SC. 1
ROSALINE
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If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
Finely put on, indeed.
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MARIA
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You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at
the brow.
BOYET
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But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now?
ROSALINE Shall I come upon thee with an old saying,
that was a man when King Pippen of France was a
little boy, as touching the hit it?
BOYET So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a
woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little
wench, as touching the hit it.
ROSALINE sings
Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
BOYET sings
An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
An I cannot, another can.
Rosaline exits.
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COSTARD
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By my troth, most pleasant. How both did fit it!
MARIA
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A mark marvelous well shot, for they both did hit
it.
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BOYET
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A mark! O, mark but that mark. “A mark,” says my
lady.
Let the mark have a prick in ’t to mete at, if it may
be.
MARIA
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Wide o’ the bow hand! I’ faith, your hand is out.
COSTARD
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Indeed, he must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the
clout.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
BOYET ,
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to Maria
An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.
COSTARD
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Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.
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MARIA
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Come, come, you talk greasily. Your lips grow foul.
COSTARD, to Boyet
She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir. Challenge her
to bowl.
BOYET
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I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.
Boyet and Maria exit.
COSTARD
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By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown.
Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him
down.
O’ my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar
wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it
were, so fit.
Armado o’ th’ one side, O, a most dainty man!
To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan.
To see him kiss his hand, and how most sweetly he
will swear.
And his page o’ t’ other side, that handful of wit!
Ah heavens, it is a most pathetical nit.
Shout within.
Sola, sola!
He exits.
Scene 2
Enter Dull the Constable, Holofernes the Pedant, and
Nathaniel the Curate.
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Very reverend sport, truly, and done in the
testimony of a good conscience.
NATHANIEL
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in
blood, ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth
like a jewel in the ear of caelo, the sky, the welkin,
the heaven, and anon falleth like a crab on the face
of terra, the soil, the land, the earth.
NATHANIEL Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are
sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least. But, sir, I
assure you, it was a buck of the first head.
HOLOFERNES Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.
DULL ’Twas not a haud credo, ’twas a pricket.
HOLOFERNES Most barbarous intimation! Yet a kind of
insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication;
facere, as it were, replication, or rather, ostentare, to
show, as it were, his inclination, after his undressed,
unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or
rather unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion,
to insert again my haud credo for a deer.
DULL I said the deer was not a haud credo, ’twas a
pricket.
HOLOFERNES Twice-sod simplicity, bis coctus!
O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou
look!
HOLOFERNES
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NATHANIEL
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Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred
in a book.
He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk
ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an
animal, only sensible in the duller parts.
And such barren plants are set before us that we
thankful should be—
Which we of taste and feeling are—for those parts
that do fructify in us more than he.
For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet,
or a fool,
So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in
a school.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
But omne bene, say I, being of an old father’s mind:
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
DULL
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You two are bookmen. Can you tell me by your wit
What was a month old at Cain’s birth that’s not
five weeks old as yet?
HOLOFERNES Dictynna, goodman Dull, Dictynna,
goodman Dull.
DULL What is “dictima”?
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NATHANIEL
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A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
HOLOFERNES
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The moon was a month old when Adam was no
more.
And raught not to five weeks when he came to
fivescore.
Th’ allusion holds in the exchange.
DULL ’Tis true indeed. The collusion holds in the
exchange.
HOLOFERNES God comfort thy capacity! I say, th’ allusion
holds in the exchange.
DULL And I say the pollution holds in the exchange, for
the moon is never but a month old. And I say besides
that, ’twas a pricket that the Princess killed.
HOLOFERNES Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal
epitaph on the death of the deer? And, to humor
the ignorant, call I the deer the Princess killed a
pricket.
NATHANIEL Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge, so it
shall please you to abrogate scurrility.
HOLOFERNES I will something affect the letter, for it
argues facility.
The preyful princess pierced and pricked
a pretty pleasing pricket,
Some say a sore, but not a sore till now made
sore with shooting.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
The dogs did yell. Put “l” to “sore,” then sorel
jumps from thicket,
Or pricket sore, or else sorel. The people fall
a-hooting.
If sore be sore, then “L” to “sore” makes fifty
sores o’ sorel.
Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one
more “L.”
NATHANIEL A rare talent.
DULL, aside
If a talent be a claw, look how he claws
him with a talent.
This is a gift that I have, simple, simple—
HOLOFERNES
a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms,
figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions,
revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle
of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater,
and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But
the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I
am thankful for it.
Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may
NATHANIEL
my parishioners, for their sons are well tutored by
you, and their daughters profit very greatly under
you. You are a good member of the
commonwealth.
HOLOFERNES
Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious,
they shall want no instruction; if their daughters be
capable, I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca
loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth us.
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95
Enter Jaquenetta and the Clown Costard.
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JAQUENETTA,
to Nathaniel
God give you good morrow,
Master Person.
HOLOFERNES
Master Person, quasi pierce one. And
if one should be pierced, which is the one?
COSTARD Marry, Master Schoolmaster, he that is likeliest
to a hogshead.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
Of piercing a hogshead! A good luster
of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint,
pearl enough for a swine. ’Tis pretty, it is well.
JAQUENETTA, to Nathaniel
Good Master Parson, be so
good as read me this letter. It was given me by
Costard, and sent me from Don Armado. I beseech
you, read it.
She hands Nathaniel a paper, which he looks at.
HOLOFERNES
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HOLOFERNES
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Facile precor gelida quando peccas omnia sub umbra.
Ruminat—
and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of
thee as the traveler doth of Venice:
Venetia, Venetia,
Chi non ti vede, non ti pretia.
Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth
thee not, loves thee not. ( He sings. ) Ut, re, sol, la,
mi, fa. ( To Nathaniel. ) Under pardon, sir, what are
the contents? Or rather, as Horace says in his—
( Looking at the letter. ) What, my soul, verses?
Ay, sir, and very learned.
NATHANIEL
Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse,
HOLOFERNES
Lege, domine.
NATHANIEL, reads
If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed!
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll faithful prove.
Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers
bowed.
Study his bias leaves and makes his book thine eyes,
Where all those pleasures live that art would
comprehend.
If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice.
Well-learnèd is that tongue that well can thee
commend.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 2
All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire.
Thy eye Jove’s lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful
thunder,
Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.
Celestial as thou art, O, pardon love this wrong,
That sings heaven’s praise with such an earthly tongue.
HOLOFERNES You find not the apostrophus, and so
miss the accent. Let me supervise the canzonet.
He takes the paper. Here are only numbers ratified,
but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of
poesy—caret. Ovidius Naso was the man. And why
indeed “Naso,” but for smelling out the odoriferous
flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is
nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his
keeper, the tired horse his rider.—But damosella
virgin, was this directed to you?
JAQUENETTA Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Berowne, one
of the strange queen’s lords.
I will overglance the superscript: “To
HOLOFERNES
the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady
Rosaline.” I will look again on the intellect of the
letter for the nomination of the party writing to
the person written unto: “Your Ladyship’s in all
desired employment, Berowne.” Sir Nathaniel, this
Berowne is one of the votaries with the King, and
here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the
stranger queen’s: which accidentally, or by the way
of progression, hath miscarried. To Jaquenetta.
Trip and go, my sweet. Deliver this paper into the
royal hand of the King. It may concern much. Stay
not thy compliment. I forgive thy duty. Adieu.
JAQUENETTA Good Costard, go with me.—Sir, God
save your life.
COSTARD Have with thee, my girl.
Costard and Jaquenetta exit.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 3
Sir, you have done this in the fear of God
very religiously; and, as a certain Father saith—
HOLOFERNES Sir, tell not me of the Father. I do fear
colorable colors. But to return to the verses: did
they please you, Sir Nathaniel?
NATHANIEL Marvelous well for the pen.
HOLOFERNES I do dine today at the father’s of a certain
pupil of mine, where if, before repast, it shall
please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will,
on my privilege I have with the parents of the
foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto;
where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned,
neither savoring of poetry, wit, nor invention.
I beseech your society.
NATHANIEL And thank you too; for society, saith the
text, is the happiness of life.
HOLOFERNES And certes the text most infallibly concludes
it. To Dull. Sir, I do invite you too. You shall
not say me nay. Pauca verba. Away! The gentles are
at their game, and we will to our recreation.
They exit.
NATHANIEL
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Scene 3
Enter Berowne with a paper in his hand, alone.
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The King, he is hunting the deer; I am
coursing myself. They have pitched a toil; I am
toiling in a pitch—pitch that defiles. Defile! A foul
word. Well, “set thee down, sorrow”; for so they
say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well
proved, wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax.
It kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved
again, o’ my side. I will not love. If I do, hang me. I’
faith, I will not. O, but her eye! By this light, but for
her eye I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes.
BEROWNE
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 3
Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my
throat. By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to
rhyme, and to be melancholy. And here is part of my
rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one
o’ my sonnets already. The clown bore it, the fool
sent it, and the lady hath it. Sweet clown, sweeter
fool, sweetest lady. By the world, I would not care a
pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with
a paper. God give him grace to groan.
He stands aside.
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The King entereth with a paper.
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Ay me!
BEROWNE , aside
Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet
Cupid. Thou hast thumped him with thy birdbolt
under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
KING reads
So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose
As thy eyebeams, when their fresh rays have smote
The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows.
Nor shines the silver moon one-half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep
As doth thy face, through tears of mine, give light.
Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep.
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my grief will show.
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.
KING
How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper.
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
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ACT 4. SC. 3
Enter Longaville, with papers. The King steps aside.
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What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, ear.
BEROWNE , aside
Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
LONGAVILLE Ay me! I am forsworn.
BEROWNE , aside
Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers!
KING , aside
In love, I hope! Sweet fellowship in shame.
BEROWNE , aside
One drunkard loves another of the name.
45
LONGAVILLE
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Am I the first that have been perjured so?
BEROWNE , aside
I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know.
Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of
society,
The shape of love’s Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity.
50
LONGAVILLE
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I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move.
Reads. O sweet Maria, empress of my love—
These numbers will I tear and write in prose.
He tears the paper.
BEROWNE , aside
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose.
Disfigure not his shop!
LONGAVILLE , taking another paper
This same shall go.
(He reads the sonnet.)
Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
’Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore, but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee.
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 3
Thy grace being gained cures all disgrace in me.
Vows are but breath, and breath a vapor is.
Then thou, fair sun, which on my Earth dost
shine,
Exhal’st this vapor-vow; in thee it is.
If broken, then, it is no fault of mine.
If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To lose an oath to win a paradise?
BEROWNE , aside
This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity,
A green goose a goddess. Pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend. We are much out o’ th’
way.
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LONGAVILLE
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By whom shall I send this?—Company? Stay.
He steps aside.
Enter Dumaine, with a paper.
BEROWNE ,
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aside
All hid, all hid—an old infant play.
Like a demigod here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’ereye.
More sacks to the mill. O heavens, I have my wish.
Dumaine transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish.
DUMAINE O most divine Kate!
BEROWNE , aside
O most profane coxcomb!
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DUMAINE
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By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
BEROWNE , aside
By Earth, she is not, corporal. There you lie.
DUMAINE
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Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted.
BEROWNE , aside
An amber-colored raven was well noted.
DUMAINE
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As upright as the cedar.
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ACT 4. SC. 3
BEROWNE ,
aside
Stoop, I say.
Her shoulder is with child.
DUMAINE
As fair as day.
BEROWNE , aside
Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine.
DUMAINE
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O, that I had my wish!
LONGAVILLE , aside
And I had mine!
KING , aside
And mine too, good Lord!
BEROWNE , aside
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
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DUMAINE
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I would forget her, but a fever she
Reigns in my blood, and will remembered be.
BEROWNE , aside
A fever in your blood? Why, then incision
Would let her out in saucers! Sweet misprision.
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DUMAINE
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Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
BEROWNE , aside
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
DUMAINE reads his sonnet.
On a day—alack the day!—
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air.
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, can passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wished himself the heaven’s breath.
“Air,” quoth he, “thy cheeks may blow.
Air, would I might triumph so!”
But, alack, my hand is sworn
Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn.
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ACT 4. SC. 3
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me
That I am forsworn for thee—
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were,
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.
This will I send, and something else more plain
That shall express my true love’s fasting pain.
O, would the King, Berowne, and Longaville
Were lovers too! Ill to example ill
Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note,
For none offend where all alike do dote.
LONGAVILLE , coming forward
Dumaine, thy love is far from charity,
That in love’s grief desir’st society.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’er-heard and taken napping so.
KING , coming forward
To Longaville. Come, sir, you blush! As his, your
case is such.
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You do not love Maria? Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
Nor never lay his wreathèd arms athwart
His loving bosom to keep down his heart?
I have been closely shrouded in this bush
And marked you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion,
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion.
“Ay, me!” says one. “O Jove!” the other cries.
One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other’s eyes.
To Longaville. You would for paradise break faith
and troth,
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 3
To Dumaine. And Jove, for your love, would
infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall hear
Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear?
How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit!
How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it!
For all the wealth that ever I did see,
I would not have him know so much by me.
BEROWNE , coming forward
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me.
Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
There is no certain princess that appears.
You’ll not be perjured, ’tis a hateful thing!
Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!
But are you not ashamed? Nay, are you not,
All three of you, to be thus much o’ershot?
To Longaville. You found his mote, the King your
mote did see,
But I a beam do find in each of three.
O, what a scene of fool’ry have I seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformèd to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
And Nestor play at pushpin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys.
Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumaine?
And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege’s? All about the breast!
A caudle, ho!
KING
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betrayed thus to thy overview?
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ACT 4. SC. 3
BEROWNE
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Not you to me, but I betrayed by you.
I, that am honest, I, that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engagèd in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men like you, men of inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute’s time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb—
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Enter Jaquenetta, with a paper, and Clown Costard.
Berowne begins to exit.
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Soft, whither away so fast?
A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
KING
BEROWNE
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I post from love. Good lover, let me go.
JAQUENETTA
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God bless the King.
KING
What present hast thou there?
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COSTARD
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Some certain treason.
KING
What makes treason here?
COSTARD
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Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
If it mar nothing neither,
The treason and you go in peace away together.
KING
JAQUENETTA
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I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read.
Our person misdoubts it. ’Twas treason, he said.
KING
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Berowne, read it over.
To Jaquenetta.
Berowne reads the letter.
Where hadst thou it?
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ACT 4. SC. 3
Of Costard.
KING , to Costard
Where hadst thou it?
COSTARD Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
Berowne tears the paper.
KING , to Berowne
How now, what is in you? Why dost thou tear it?
JAQUENETTA
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BEROWNE
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A toy, my liege, a toy. Your Grace needs not fear it.
LONGAVILLE
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It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear
it.
DUMAINE , picking up the papers
It is Berowne’s writing, and here is his name.
BEROWNE , to Costard
Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were born to do
me shame.—
Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess.
KING What?
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BEROWNE
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That you three fools lacked me fool to make up
the mess.
He, he, and you—and you, my liege—and I
Are pickpurses in love, and we deserve to die.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
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DUMAINE
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Now the number is even.
True, true, we are four.
Pointing to Jaquenetta and Costard. Will these
turtles be gone?
KING
Hence, sirs. Away.
BEROWNE
COSTARD
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Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
Jaquenetta and Costard exit.
BEROWNE
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Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace.
As true we are as flesh and blood can be.
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ACT 4. SC. 3
The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face;
Young blood doth not obey an old decree.
We cannot cross the cause why we were born;
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
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KING
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What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
BEROWNE
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Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly
Rosaline
That, like a rude and savage man of Ind
At the first op’ning of the gorgeous East,
Bows not his vassal head and, strucken blind,
Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
What peremptory eagle-sighted eye
Dares look upon the heaven of her brow
That is not blinded by her majesty?
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What zeal, what fury, hath inspired thee now?
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon,
She an attending star scarce seen a light.
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BEROWNE
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My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
Of all complexions the culled sovereignty
Do meet as at a fair in her fair cheek.
Where several worthies make one dignity,
Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues—
Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not!
To things of sale a seller’s praise belongs.
She passes praise. Then praise too short doth blot.
A withered hermit, fivescore winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
Beauty doth varnish age, as if newborn,
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And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy.
O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine!
ACT 4. SC. 3
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KING
By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
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BEROWNE
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Is ebony like her? O word divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? Where is a book,
That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack
If that she learn not of her eye to look?
No face is fair that is not full so black.
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KING
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O, paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons and the school of night,
And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
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BEROWNE
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Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked,
It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect:
And therefore is she born to make black fair.
Her favor turns the fashion of the days,
For native blood is counted painting now.
And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
Paints itself black to imitate her brow.
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DUMAINE
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To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
LONGAVILLE
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
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KING
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And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
DUMAINE
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Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
BEROWNE
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Your mistresses dare never come in rain,
For fear their colors should be washed away.
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ACT 4. SC. 3
KING
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’Twere good yours did, for, sir, to tell you plain,
I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
BEROWNE
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I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.
KING
No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
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DUMAINE
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I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
LONGAVILLE , showing his shoe
Look, here’s thy love; my foot and her face see.
BEROWNE
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O, if the streets were pavèd with thine eyes.
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread.
DUMAINE
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O vile! Then as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walked overhead.
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KING
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But what of this? Are we not all in love?
BEROWNE
Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn.
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KING
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Then leave this chat, and, good Berowne, now prove
Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
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DUMAINE
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Ay, marry, there, some flattery for this evil.
LONGAVILLE
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O, some authority how to proceed,
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
DUMAINE
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Some salve for perjury.
O, ’tis more than need.
Have at you, then, affection’s men-at-arms!
O, we have made a vow to study, lords,
And in that vow we have forsworn our books.
BEROWNE
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 4. SC. 3
For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
In leaden contemplation have found out
Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
Of beauty’s tutors have enriched you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain
And therefore, finding barren practicers,
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil.
But love, first learnèd in a lady’s eyes,
Lives not alone immurèd in the brain,
But with the motion of all elements
Courses as swift as thought in every power,
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye.
A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind.
A lover’s ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopped.
Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails.
Love’s tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste.
For valor, is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
Subtle as Sphinx, as sweet and musical
As bright Apollo’s lute strung with his hair.
And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were tempered with love’s sighs.
O, then his lines would ravish savage ears
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive.
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire.
They are the books, the arts, the academes
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.
Else none at all in ought proves excellent.
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
Then fools you were these women to forswear,
Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
For wisdom’s sake, a word that all men love,
Or for love’s sake, a word that loves all men,
Or for men’s sake, the authors of these women,
Or women’s sake, by whom we men are men,
Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
It is religion to be thus forsworn,
For charity itself fulfills the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
ACT 4. SC. 3
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KING
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Saint Cupid, then, and, soldiers, to the field!
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BEROWNE
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Advance your standards, and upon them, lords.
Pell-mell, down with them. But be first advised
In conflict that you get the sun of them.
LONGAVILLE
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Now to plain dealing. Lay these glozes by.
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
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KING
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And win them, too. Therefore let us devise
Some entertainment for them in their tents.
BEROWNE
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First, from the park let us conduct them thither.
Then homeward every man attach the hand
Of his fair mistress. In the afternoon
We will with some strange pastime solace them,
Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
For revels, dances, masques, and merry hours
Forerun fair love, strewing her way with flowers.
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KING
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Away, away! No time shall be omitted
That will betime and may by us be fitted.
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ACT 4. SC. 3
BEROWNE
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Allons! Allons! Sowed cockle reaped no corn,
And justice always whirls in equal measure.
Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
If so, our copper buys no better treasure.
They exit.
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ACT 5
Scene 1
Enter Holofernes the Pedant, Nathaniel the Curate,
and Dull the Constable.
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Satis quid sufficit.
NATHANIEL I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at
dinner have been sharp and sententious, pleasant
without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious
without impudency, learned without opinion,
and strange without heresy. I did converse this
quondam day with a companion of the King’s, who
is intituled, nominated, or called Don Adriano de
Armado.
HOLOFERNES Novi hominem tanquam te. His humor
is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed,
his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general
behavior vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is
too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it
were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.
NATHANIEL A most singular and choice epithet.
Draw out his table book.
HOLOFERNES He draweth out the thread of his verbosity
finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor
such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and
point-devise companions, such rackers of orthography,
as to speak “dout,” fine, when he should
say “doubt”; “det” when he should pronounce
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HOLOFERNES
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ACT 5. SC. 1
“debt”—d, e, b, t, not d, e, t. He clepeth a calf
“cauf,” half “hauf,” neighbor vocatur “nebor”;
neigh abbreviated ne. This is abhominable—which
he would call “abominable.” It insinuateth me of
insanie. Ne intelligis, domine? To make frantic,
lunatic.
NATHANIEL Laus Deo, bone intelligo.
HOLOFERNES
Bone? Bone for bene? Priscian a little
scratched; ’twill serve.
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Enter Armado the Braggart, Boy, and Costard.
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Videsne quis venit?
HOLOFERNES Video, et gaudeo.
ARMADO Chirrah.
HOLOFERNES Quare “chirrah,” not “sirrah”?
ARMADO Men of peace, well encountered.
HOLOFERNES Most military sir, salutation.
BOY , aside to Costard
They have been at a great feast
of languages and stolen the scraps.
COSTARD, aside to Boy
O, they have lived long on the
almsbasket of words. I marvel thy master hath not
eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the
head as honorificabilitudinitatibus. Thou art easier
swallowed than a flapdragon.
BOY , aside to Costard
Peace, the peal begins.
ARMADO, to Holofernes
Monsieur, are you not
lettered?
BOY Yes, yes, he teaches boys the hornbook.—What is
a, b spelled backward, with the horn on his head?
HOLOFERNES Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.
BOY Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn.—You hear his
learning.
HOLOFERNES Quis, quis, thou consonant?
BOY The last of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or
the fifth, if I.
HOLOFERNES I will repeat them: a, e, i—
NATHANIEL
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 1
The sheep. The other two concludes it: o, u.
ARMADO Now by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum,
a sweet touch, a quick venue of wit! Snip, snap,
quick and home. It rejoiceth my intellect. True
wit.
BOY Offered by a child to an old man—which is
wit-old.
HOLOFERNES What is the figure? What is the figure?
BOY Horns.
HOLOFERNES Thou disputes like an infant. Go whip thy
gig.
BOY Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip
about your infamy—unum cita—a gig of a cuckold’s
horn.
COSTARD An I had but one penny in the world, thou
shouldst have it to buy gingerbread! Hold, there is
the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou
halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon egg of discretion.
He gives him money. O, an the heavens were
so pleased that thou wert but my bastard, what a
joyful father wouldest thou make me! Go to, thou
hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers’ ends, as they say.
HOLOFERNES Oh, I smell false Latin! Dunghill for
unguem.
ARMADO Arts-man, preambulate. We will be singuled
from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at
the charge-house on the top of the mountain?
HOLOFERNES Or mons, the hill.
ARMADO At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
HOLOFERNES I do, sans question.
ARMADO Sir, it is the King’s most sweet pleasure and
affection to congratulate the Princess at her pavilion
in the posteriors of this day, which the rude
multitude call the afternoon.
HOLOFERNES “The posterior of the day,” most generous
sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for
BOY
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 1
“the afternoon”; the word is well culled, chose,
sweet, and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.
ARMADO Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my
familiar, I do assure you, very good friend. For
what is inward between us, let it pass. I do beseech
thee, remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee apparel
thy head. And among other important and most
serious designs, and of great import indeed, too—
but let that pass; for I must tell thee, it will please his
Grace, by the world, sometimes to lean upon my
poor shoulder and with his royal finger thus dally
with my excrement, with my mustachio—but,
sweetheart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no
fable! Some certain special honors it pleaseth his
Greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of
travel, that hath seen the world—but let that pass.
The very all of all is—but sweetheart, I do implore
secrecy—that the King would have me present the
Princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation,
or show, or pageant, or antic, or firework.
Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet
self are good at such eruptions and sudden breaking
out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you
withal to the end to crave your assistance.
HOLOFERNES Sir, you shall present before her the Nine
Worthies.—Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some
entertainment of time, some show in the posterior
of this day, to be rendered by our assistance, the
King’s command, and this most gallant, illustrate,
and learned gentleman, before the Princess—I say,
none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.
NATHANIEL Where will you find men worthy enough to
present them?
HOLOFERNES Joshua, yourself; myself; and this gallant
gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus. This swain, because
of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey
the Great; the page, Hercules—
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
Pardon, sir—error. He is not quantity
enough for that Worthy’s thumb; he is not so big as
the end of his club!
HOLOFERNES Shall I have audience? He shall present
Hercules in minority. His enter and exit shall be
strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for
that purpose.
BOY An excellent device. So, if any of the audience
hiss, you may cry “Well done, Hercules, now thou
crushest the snake.” That is the way to make an
offense gracious, though few have the grace to do it.
ARMADO For the rest of the Worthies?
HOLOFERNES I will play three myself.
BOY Thrice-worthy gentleman!
ARMADO, to Holofernes
Shall I tell you a thing?
HOLOFERNES We attend.
ARMADO We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I
beseech you, follow.
HOLOFERNES Via, goodman Dull. Thou hast spoken no
word all this while.
DULL Nor understood none neither, sir.
HOLOFERNES
Allons! We will employ thee.
DULL I’ll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on
the tabor to the Worthies and let them dance the
hay.
HOLOFERNES Most dull, honest Dull. To our sport!
Away.
They exit.
ARMADO
Scene 2
Enter the Ladies ( the Princess, Rosaline,
Katherine, and Maria. )
PRINCESS
FTLN 1898
FTLN 1899
ACT 5. SC. 2
Sweethearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
If fairings come thus plentifully in.
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150
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149
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
A lady walled about with diamonds!
Look you what I have from the loving king.
She shows a jewel.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1902
Madam, came nothing else along with that?
5
PRINCESS
FTLN 1903
FTLN 1904
FTLN 1905
FTLN 1906
Nothing but this? Yes, as much love in rhyme
As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper
Writ o’ both sides the leaf, margent and all,
That he was fain to seal on Cupid’s name.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1907
FTLN 1908
That was the way to make his godhead wax,
For he hath been five thousand year a boy.
10
KATHERINE
FTLN 1909
Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows, too.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1910
FTLN 1911
You’ll ne’er be friends with him. He killed your
sister.
KATHERINE
FTLN 1912
FTLN 1913
FTLN 1914
FTLN 1915
FTLN 1916
He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy,
And so she died. Had she been light like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might ha’ been a grandam ere she died.
And so may you, for a light heart lives long.
15
ROSALINE
FTLN 1917
FTLN 1918
What’s your dark meaning, mouse, of this light
word?
20
KATHERINE
FTLN 1919
A light condition in a beauty dark.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1920
We need more light to find your meaning out.
KATHERINE
FTLN 1921
FTLN 1922
You’ll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
Therefore I’ll darkly end the argument.
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ACT 5. SC. 2
ROSALINE
FTLN 1923
Look what you do, you do it still i’ th’ dark.
KATHERINE
FTLN 1924
So do not you, for you are a light wench.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1925
Indeed, I weigh not you, and therefore light.
KATHERINE
FTLN 1926
You weigh me not? O, that’s you care not for me.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1927
Great reason: for past care is still past cure.
30
PRINCESS
FTLN 1928
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Well bandied both; a set of wit well played.
But, Rosaline, you have a favor too.
Who sent it? And what is it?
ROSALINE
I would you knew.
An if my face were but as fair as yours,
My favor were as great. Be witness this.
She shows a gift.
Nay, I have verses too, I thank Berowne;
The numbers true; and were the numb’ring too,
I were the fairest goddess on the ground.
I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter.
PRINCESS Anything like?
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40
ROSALINE
FTLN 1940
Much in the letters, nothing in the praise.
PRINCESS
FTLN 1941
Beauteous as ink: a good conclusion.
KATHERINE
FTLN 1942
Fair as a text B in a copybook.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1943
FTLN 1944
FTLN 1945
Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor,
My red dominical, my golden letter.
O, that your face were not so full of O’s!
PRINCESS
FTLN 1946
A pox of that jest! And I beshrew all shrows.
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153
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
But, Katherine, what was sent to you
From fair Dumaine?
50
KATHERINE
FTLN 1949
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FTLN 1952
FTLN 1953
FTLN 1954
Madam, this glove.
She shows the glove.
PRINCESS
Did he not send you twain?
KATHERINE Yes, madam, and moreover,
Some thousand verses of a faithful lover,
A huge translation of hypocrisy,
Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.
55
MARIA
FTLN 1955
FTLN 1956
This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville.
She shows a paper and pearls.
The letter is too long by half a mile.
PRINCESS
FTLN 1957
FTLN 1958
I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
The chain were longer and the letter short?
60
MARIA
FTLN 1959
Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
PRINCESS
FTLN 1960
We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
ROSALINE
FTLN 1961
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They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
That same Berowne I’ll torture ere I go.
O, that I knew he were but in by th’ week,
How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
And wait the season, and observe the times,
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes,
And shape his service wholly to my hests,
And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
So pair-taunt-like would I o’ersway his state,
That he should be my fool, and I his fate.
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70
PRINCESS
FTLN 1971
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FTLN 1973
FTLN 1974
None are so surely caught, when they are catched,
As wit turned fool. Folly in wisdom hatched
Hath wisdom’s warrant and the help of school,
And wit’s own grace to grace a learnèd fool.
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ACT 5. SC. 2
ROSALINE
FTLN 1975
FTLN 1976
The blood of youth burns not with such excess
As gravity’s revolt to wantonness.
MARIA
FTLN 1977
FTLN 1978
FTLN 1979
FTLN 1980
Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
As fool’ry in the wise, when wit doth dote,
Since all the power thereof it doth apply
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
80
Enter Boyet.
PRINCESS
FTLN 1981
Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
BOYET
FTLN 1982
O, I am stabbed with laughter. Where’s her Grace?
85
PRINCESS
FTLN 1983
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FTLN 1985
FTLN 1986
FTLN 1987
FTLN 1988
FTLN 1989
Thy news, Boyet?
Prepare, madam, prepare.
Arm, wenches, arm. Encounters mounted are
Against your peace. Love doth approach, disguised,
Armèd in arguments. You’ll be surprised.
Muster your wits, stand in your own defense,
Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
BOYET
90
PRINCESS
FTLN 1990
FTLN 1991
Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they
That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.
BOYET
FTLN 1992
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Under the cool shade of a sycamore,
I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour.
When, lo, to interrupt my purposed rest,
Toward that shade I might behold addressed
The King and his companions. Warily
I stole into a neighbor thicket by,
And overheard what you shall overhear:
That, by and by, disguised, they will be here.
Their herald is a pretty knavish page
That well by heart hath conned his embassage.
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157
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
Action and accent did they teach him there:
“Thus must thou speak,” and “thus thy body bear.”
And ever and anon they made a doubt
Presence majestical would put him out;
“For,” quoth the King, “an angel shalt thou see;
Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.”
The boy replied “An angel is not evil.
I should have feared her had she been a devil.”
With that, all laughed and clapped him on the
shoulder,
Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
One rubbed his elbow thus, and fleered, and swore
A better speech was never spoke before.
Another with his finger and his thumb,
Cried “Via! We will do ’t, come what will come.”
The third he capered and cried “All goes well!”
The fourth turned on the toe, and down he fell.
With that, they all did tumble on the ground
With such a zealous laughter so profound
That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their folly, passion’s solemn tears.
ACT 5. SC. 2
105
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PRINCESS
FTLN 2023
But what, but what? Come they to visit us?
BOYET
FTLN 2024
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FTLN 2029
They do, they do; and are appareled thus,
Like Muscovites, or Russians, as I guess.
Their purpose is to parley, to court, and dance,
And every one his love-feat will advance
Unto his several mistress—which they’ll know
By favors several which they did bestow.
130
PRINCESS
FTLN 2030
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FTLN 2034
And will they so? The gallants shall be tasked,
For, ladies, we will every one be masked,
And not a man of them shall have the grace,
Despite of suit, to see a lady’s face.
Hold, Rosaline, this favor thou shalt wear,
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
And then the King will court thee for his dear.
Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine.
So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
Princess and Rosaline exchange favors.
And change you favors too. So shall your loves
Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.
Katherine and Maria exchange favors.
140
ROSALINE
FTLN 2040
FTLN 2041
Come on, then, wear the favors most in sight.
KATHERINE, to Princess
But in this changing, what is your intent?
PRINCESS
FTLN 2042
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FTLN 2047
FTLN 2048
The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
They do it but in mockery merriment,
And mock for mock is only my intent.
Their several counsels they unbosom shall
To loves mistook, and so be mocked withal
Upon the next occasion that we meet,
With visages displayed, to talk and greet.
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ROSALINE
FTLN 2049
But shall we dance, if they desire us to ’t?
PRINCESS
FTLN 2050
FTLN 2051
FTLN 2052
No, to the death we will not move a foot,
Nor to their penned speech render we no grace,
But while ’tis spoke each turn away her face.
155
BOYET
FTLN 2053
FTLN 2054
Why, that contempt will kill the speaker’s heart,
And quite divorce his memory from his part.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2055
FTLN 2056
FTLN 2057
FTLN 2058
FTLN 2059
FTLN 2060
Therefore I do it, and I make no doubt
The rest will ne’er come in if he be out.
There’s no such sport as sport by sport o’erthrown,
To make theirs ours and ours none but our own.
So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
And they, well mocked, depart away with shame.
Sound trumpet, within.
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ACT 5. SC. 2
BOYET
FTLN 2061
The trumpet sounds. Be masked; the maskers come.
The Ladies mask.
Enter Blackamoors with music, the Boy with a speech,
the King, Berowne, and the rest of the Lords disguised.
BOY
FTLN 2062
All hail, the richest beauties on the Earth!
165
BOYET
FTLN 2063
Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
BOY
FTLN 2064
FTLN 2065
FTLN 2066
A holy parcel of the fairest dames
(The Ladies turn their backs to him.)
That ever turned their—backs—to mortal views.
BEROWNE Their eyes, villain, their eyes!
BOY
FTLN 2067
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FTLN 2069
170
That ever turned their eyes to mortal views.
Out—
BOYET True; out indeed.
BOY
FTLN 2070
FTLN 2071
FTLN 2072
Out of your favors, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold—
BEROWNE Once to behold, rogue!
175
BOY
FTLN 2073
FTLN 2074
Once to behold with your sun-beamèd eyes—
With your sun-beamèd eyes—
BOYET
FTLN 2075
FTLN 2076
They will not answer to that epithet.
You were best call it “daughter-beamèd eyes.”
BOY
FTLN 2077
They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
180
BEROWNE
FTLN 2078
Is this your perfectness? Begone, you rogue!
Boy exits.
ROSALINE ,
FTLN 2079
FTLN 2080
speaking as the Princess
What would these strangers? Know their minds,
Boyet.
163
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
If they do speak our language, ’tis our will
That some plain man recount their purposes.
Know what they would.
BOYET
What would you with the
Princess?
185
BEROWNE
FTLN 2086
FTLN 2087
Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE What would they, say they?
190
BOYET
FTLN 2088
Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2089
Why, that they have, and bid them so be gone.
BOYET
FTLN 2090
She says you have it, and you may be gone.
KING
FTLN 2091
FTLN 2092
Say to her we have measured many miles
To tread a measure with her on this grass.
195
BOYET
FTLN 2093
FTLN 2094
They say that they have measured many a mile
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2095
FTLN 2096
FTLN 2097
It is not so. Ask them how many inches
Is in one mile. If they have measured many,
The measure then of one is eas’ly told.
200
BOYET
FTLN 2098
FTLN 2099
FTLN 2100
If to come hither you have measured miles,
And many miles, the Princess bids you tell
How many inches doth fill up one mile.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2101
Tell her we measure them by weary steps.
BOYET
FTLN 2102
FTLN 2103
FTLN 2104
FTLN 2105
She hears herself.
How many weary steps
Of many weary miles you have o’ergone
Are numbered in the travel of one mile?
ROSALINE
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
BEROWNE
FTLN 2106
FTLN 2107
FTLN 2108
FTLN 2109
FTLN 2110
We number nothing that we spend for you.
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without account.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face
That we, like savages, may worship it.
210
ROSALINE
FTLN 2111
My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
KING
FTLN 2112
FTLN 2113
FTLN 2114
FTLN 2115
Blessèd are clouds, to do as such clouds do!
Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to
shine,
Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
215
ROSALINE
FTLN 2116
FTLN 2117
O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter!
Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.
220
KING
FTLN 2118
FTLN 2119
Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
Thou bidd’st me beg; this begging is not strange.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2120
Play music, then. Nay, you must do it soon.
FTLN 2121
Music begins.
Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon.
KING
FTLN 2122
Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
225
ROSALINE
FTLN 2123
You took the moon at full, but now she’s changed.
KING
FTLN 2124
FTLN 2125
Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
The music plays. Vouchsafe some motion to it.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2126
FTLN 2127
Our ears vouchsafe it.
KING
But your legs should do it.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2128
FTLN 2129
Since you are strangers and come here by chance,
We’ll not be nice. Take hands. We will not dance.
She offers her hand.
230
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
KING
FTLN 2130
FTLN 2131
FTLN 2132
Why take we hands then?
Only to part friends.—
Curtsy, sweethearts—and so the measure ends.
ROSALINE
235
KING
FTLN 2133
More measure of this measure! Be not nice.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2134
We can afford no more at such a price.
KING
FTLN 2135
Prize you yourselves. What buys your company?
ROSALINE
FTLN 2136
FTLN 2137
Your absence only.
KING
That can never be.
240
ROSALINE
FTLN 2138
FTLN 2139
Then cannot we be bought. And so adieu—
Twice to your visor, and half once to you.
KING
FTLN 2140
If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2141
FTLN 2142
FTLN 2143
FTLN 2144
In private, then.
I am best pleased with that.
They move aside.
BEROWNE , to the Princess
White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
PRINCESS, speaking as Rosaline
Honey, and milk, and sugar—there is three.
KING
245
BEROWNE
FTLN 2145
FTLN 2146
FTLN 2147
FTLN 2148
FTLN 2149
Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice,
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey. Well run, dice!
There’s half a dozen sweets.
PRINCESS
Seventh sweet, adieu.
Since you can cog, I’ll play no more with you.
250
BEROWNE
FTLN 2150
FTLN 2151
One word in secret.
PRINCESS
Let it not be sweet.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2152
Thou grievest my gall.
255
169
FTLN 2153
PRINCESS
FTLN 2154
BEROWNE
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
Gall! Bitter.
Therefore meet.
They move aside.
DUMAINE ,
FTLN 2155
FTLN 2156
FTLN 2157
FTLN 2158
FTLN 2159
FTLN 2160
FTLN 2161
FTLN 2162
to Maria
Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
MARIA , speaking as Katherine
Name it.
DUMAINE
Fair lady—
MARIA
Say you so? Fair lord!
Take that for your “fair lady.”
DUMAINE
Please it you
As much in private, and I’ll bid adieu.
They move aside.
KATHERINE, speaking as Maria
What, was your vizard made without a tongue?
260
265
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2163
I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2164
O, for your reason! Quickly, sir, I long.
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2165
FTLN 2166
You have a double tongue within your mask,
And would afford my speechless vizard half.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2167
Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not veal a calf?
270
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2168
FTLN 2169
A calf, fair lady?
KATHERINE
No, a fair Lord Calf.
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2170
FTLN 2171
FTLN 2172
Let’s part the word.
No, I’ll not be your half.
Take all and wean it. It may prove an ox.
KATHERINE
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2173
FTLN 2174
Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks.
Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2175
Then die a calf before your horns do grow.
275
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2176
One word in private with you ere I die.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2177
Bleat softly, then. The butcher hears you cry.
They move aside.
280
BOYET
FTLN 2178
FTLN 2179
FTLN 2180
FTLN 2181
FTLN 2182
FTLN 2183
FTLN 2184
FTLN 2185
The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor’s edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;
Above the sense of sense, so sensible
Seemeth their conference. Their conceits have
wings
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter
things.
285
ROSALINE
FTLN 2186
Not one word more, my maids. Break off, break off!
The Ladies move away from the Lords.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2187
By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
290
KING
FTLN 2188
Farewell, mad wenches. You have simple wits.
King, Lords, and Blackamoors exit.
The Ladies unmask.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2189
FTLN 2190
Twenty adieus, my frozen Muskovits.—
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?
BOYET
FTLN 2191
FTLN 2192
Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puffed
out.
295
ROSALINE
FTLN 2193
Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2194
FTLN 2195
FTLN 2196
FTLN 2197
O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?
Or ever but in vizards show their faces?
This pert Berowne was out of count’nance quite.
300
173
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
ROSALINE
FTLN 2198
FTLN 2199
They were all in lamentable cases.
The King was weeping ripe for a good word.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2200
Berowne did swear himself out of all suit.
MARIA
FTLN 2201
FTLN 2202
FTLN 2203
Dumaine was at my service, and his sword.
“No point,” quoth I. My servant straight was
mute.
305
KATHERINE
FTLN 2204
FTLN 2205
FTLN 2206
Lord Longaville said I came o’er his heart.
And trow you what he called me?
PRINCESS
Qualm, perhaps.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2207
FTLN 2208
Yes, in good faith.
PRINCESS
310
Go, sickness as thou art!
ROSALINE
FTLN 2209
FTLN 2210
Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2211
And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to me.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2212
And Longaville was for my service born.
315
MARIA
FTLN 2213
Dumaine is mine as sure as bark on tree.
BOYET
FTLN 2214
FTLN 2215
FTLN 2216
FTLN 2217
Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear.
Immediately they will again be here
In their own shapes, for it can never be
They will digest this harsh indignity.
320
PRINCESS
FTLN 2218
FTLN 2219
FTLN 2220
FTLN 2221
FTLN 2222
Will they return?
They will, they will, God knows,
And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows.
Therefore change favors, and when they repair,
Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
BOYET
325
175
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
PRINCESS
FTLN 2223
How “blow”? How “blow”? Speak to be understood.
BOYET
FTLN 2224
FTLN 2225
FTLN 2226
Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud.
Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2227
FTLN 2228
Avaunt, perplexity!—What shall we do
If they return in their own shapes to woo?
330
ROSALINE
FTLN 2229
FTLN 2230
FTLN 2231
FTLN 2232
FTLN 2233
FTLN 2234
FTLN 2235
FTLN 2236
Good madam, if by me you’ll be advised,
Let’s mock them still, as well known as disguised.
Let us complain to them what fools were here,
Disguised like Muscovites in shapeless gear,
And wonder what they were, and to what end
Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penned,
And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
Should be presented at our tent to us.
335
BOYET
FTLN 2237
Ladies, withdraw. The gallants are at hand.
340
PRINCESS
FTLN 2238
Whip to our tents, as roes runs o’er land.
The Princess and the Ladies exit.
Enter the King and the rest, as themselves.
KING ,
FTLN 2239
to Boyet
Fair sir, God save you. Where’s the Princess?
BOYET
FTLN 2240
FTLN 2241
Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty
Command me any service to her thither?
KING
FTLN 2242
That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
345
BOYET
FTLN 2243
I will, and so will she, I know, my lord.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2244
This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons peas,
He exits.
177
FTLN 2245
FTLN 2246
FTLN 2247
FTLN 2248
FTLN 2249
FTLN 2250
FTLN 2251
FTLN 2252
FTLN 2253
FTLN 2254
FTLN 2255
FTLN 2256
FTLN 2257
FTLN 2258
FTLN 2259
FTLN 2260
FTLN 2261
FTLN 2262
FTLN 2263
Love’s Labor’s Lost
And utters it again when God doth please.
He is wit’s peddler, and retails his wares
At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs.
And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve.
Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
He can carve too, and lisp. Why, this is he
That kissed his hand away in courtesy.
This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,
That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honorable terms. Nay, he can sing
A mean most meanly; and in ushering
Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet.
The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet.
This is the flower that smiles on everyone
To show his teeth as white as whale’s bone;
And consciences that will not die in debt
Pay him the due of “honey-tongued Boyet.”
ACT 5. SC. 2
350
355
360
365
KING
FTLN 2264
FTLN 2265
A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,
That put Armado’s page out of his part!
Enter the Ladies, with Boyet.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2266
FTLN 2267
FTLN 2268
FTLN 2269
See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou
Till this madman showed thee? And what art thou
now?
KING , to Princess
All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day.
370
PRINCESS
“Fair” in “all hail” is foul, as I conceive.
FTLN 2270
KING
FTLN 2271
Construe my speeches better, if you may.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2272
Then wish me better. I will give you leave.
375
179
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
KING
FTLN 2273
FTLN 2274
We came to visit you, and purpose now
To lead you to our court. Vouchsafe it, then.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2275
FTLN 2276
This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow.
Nor God nor I delights in perjured men.
KING
FTLN 2277
FTLN 2278
Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.
The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
380
PRINCESS
FTLN 2279
FTLN 2280
FTLN 2281
FTLN 2282
FTLN 2283
FTLN 2284
FTLN 2285
FTLN 2286
You nickname virtue; “vice” you should have spoke,
For virtue’s office never breaks men’s troth.
Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
As the unsullied lily, I protest,
A world of torments though I should endure,
I would not yield to be your house’s guest,
So much I hate a breaking cause to be
Of heavenly oaths vowed with integrity.
385
KING
FTLN 2287
FTLN 2288
O, you have lived in desolation here,
Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
390
PRINCESS
FTLN 2289
FTLN 2290
FTLN 2291
Not so, my lord. It is not so, I swear.
We have had pastimes here and pleasant game.
A mess of Russians left us but of late.
KING
FTLN 2292
FTLN 2293
FTLN 2294
How, madam? Russians?
395
Ay, in truth, my lord.
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
PRINCESS
ROSALINE
FTLN 2295
FTLN 2296
FTLN 2297
FTLN 2298
FTLN 2299
FTLN 2300
Madam, speak true.—It is not so, my lord.
My lady, to the manner of the days,
In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
We four indeed confronted were with four
In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour
And talked apace; and in that hour, my lord,
400
181
FTLN 2301
FTLN 2302
FTLN 2303
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
They did not bless us with one happy word.
I dare not call them fools; but this I think:
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
405
BEROWNE
FTLN 2304
FTLN 2305
FTLN 2306
FTLN 2307
FTLN 2308
FTLN 2309
This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet,
Your wits makes wise things foolish. When we greet,
With eyes’ best seeing, heaven’s fiery eye,
By light we lose light. Your capacity
Is of that nature that to your huge store
Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
410
ROSALINE
FTLN 2310
This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye—
BEROWNE
FTLN 2311
I am a fool, and full of poverty.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2312
FTLN 2313
But that you take what doth to you belong,
It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
415
BEROWNE
FTLN 2314
O, I am yours, and all that I possess!
ROSALINE
FTLN 2315
FTLN 2316
All the fool mine?
BEROWNE
I cannot give you less.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2317
Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
420
BEROWNE
FTLN 2318
Where? When? What vizard? Why demand you this?
ROSALINE
FTLN 2319
FTLN 2320
FTLN 2321
FTLN 2322
FTLN 2323
There; then; that vizard; that superfluous case
That hid the worse and showed the better face.
KING , aside to Dumaine
We were descried. They’ll mock us now downright.
DUMAINE , aside to King
Let us confess and turn it to a jest.
PRINCESS, to King
Amazed, my lord? Why looks your Highness sad?
425
183
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
ROSALINE
FTLN 2324
FTLN 2325
FTLN 2326
Help, hold his brows! He’ll swoon!—Why look you
pale?
Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2327
FTLN 2328
FTLN 2329
FTLN 2330
FTLN 2331
FTLN 2332
FTLN 2333
FTLN 2334
FTLN 2335
FTLN 2336
FTLN 2337
FTLN 2338
FTLN 2339
FTLN 2340
FTLN 2341
FTLN 2342
FTLN 2343
FTLN 2344
FTLN 2345
FTLN 2346
FTLN 2347
FTLN 2348
FTLN 2349
Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
Can any face of brass hold longer out?
Here stand I, lady. Dart thy skill at me.
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout.
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance.
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit,
And I will wish thee nevermore to dance,
Nor nevermore in Russian habit wait.
O, never will I trust to speeches penned,
Nor to the motion of a schoolboy’s tongue,
Nor never come in vizard to my friend,
Nor woo in rhyme like a blind harper’s song.
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical—these summer flies
Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
I do forswear them, and I here protest
By this white glove—how white the hand, God
knows!—
Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed
In russet yeas and honest kersey noes.
And to begin: Wench, so God help me, law,
My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
430
435
440
445
450
ROSALINE
FTLN 2350
FTLN 2351
FTLN 2352
FTLN 2353
FTLN 2354
FTLN 2355
FTLN 2356
Sans “sans,” I pray you.
Yet I have a trick
Of the old rage. Bear with me, I am sick;
I’ll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see:
Write “Lord have mercy on us” on those three.
They are infected; in their hearts it lies.
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
BEROWNE
455
185
FTLN 2357
FTLN 2358
Love’s Labor’s Lost
These lords are visited. You are not free,
For the Lord’s tokens on you do I see.
ACT 5. SC. 2
460
PRINCESS
FTLN 2359
No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2360
Our states are forfeit. Seek not to undo us.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2361
FTLN 2362
It is not so, for how can this be true,
That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
465
BEROWNE
FTLN 2363
Peace, for I will not have to do with you.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2364
FTLN 2365
FTLN 2366
FTLN 2367
FTLN 2368
FTLN 2369
Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
BEROWNE , to King, Longaville, and Dumaine
Speak for yourselves. My wit is at an end.
KING , to Princess
Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
Some fair excuse.
PRINCESS
The fairest is confession.
Were not you here but even now, disguised?
470
KING
FTLN 2370
FTLN 2371
Madam, I was.
PRINCESS
And were you well advised?
KING
FTLN 2372
FTLN 2373
FTLN 2374
I was, fair madam.
475
When you then were here,
What did you whisper in your lady’s ear?
PRINCESS
KING
FTLN 2375
That more than all the world I did respect her.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2376
When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
KING
FTLN 2377
FTLN 2378
FTLN 2379
Upon mine honor, no.
Peace, peace, forbear!
Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
PRINCESS
KING
FTLN 2380
Despise me when I break this oath of mine.
480
187
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
PRINCESS
FTLN 2381
FTLN 2382
I will, and therefore keep it.—Rosaline,
What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
485
ROSALINE
FTLN 2383
FTLN 2384
FTLN 2385
FTLN 2386
Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
As precious eyesight, and did value me
Above this world, adding thereto moreover
That he would wed me or else die my lover.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2387
FTLN 2388
God give thee joy of him! The noble lord
Most honorably doth uphold his word.
490
KING
FTLN 2389
FTLN 2390
What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth,
I never swore this lady such an oath.
ROSALINE
FTLN 2391
FTLN 2392
FTLN 2393
By heaven, you did! And to confirm it plain,
You gave me this. She shows a token. But take it,
sir, again.
495
KING
FTLN 2394
FTLN 2395
My faith and this the Princess I did give.
I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2396
FTLN 2397
FTLN 2398
FTLN 2399
Pardon me, sir. This jewel did she wear.
She points to Rosaline.
And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear.
To Berowne. What, will you have me, or your pearl
again?
She shows the token.
500
BEROWNE
FTLN 2400
FTLN 2401
FTLN 2402
FTLN 2403
FTLN 2404
FTLN 2405
FTLN 2406
FTLN 2407
Neither of either. I remit both twain.
I see the trick on ’t. Here was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas comedy.
Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight
zany,
Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some
Dick,
505
510
189
FTLN 2408
FTLN 2409
FTLN 2410
FTLN 2411
FTLN 2412
FTLN 2413
FTLN 2414
FTLN 2415
FTLN 2416
FTLN 2417
FTLN 2418
FTLN 2419
FTLN 2420
FTLN 2421
FTLN 2422
FTLN 2423
FTLN 2424
FTLN 2425
FTLN 2426
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
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.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn in will and error.
Much upon this ’tis. To Boyet. And might not you
Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady’s foot by th’ squier?
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You put our page out. Go, you are allowed.
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? There’s an eye
Wounds like a leaden sword.
BOYET
Full merrily
Hath this brave manage, this career been run.
515
520
525
BEROWNE
FTLN 2427
Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace, I have done.
530
Enter Clown Costard.
FTLN 2428
FTLN 2429
FTLN 2430
Welcome, pure wit. Thou part’st a fair fray.
COSTARD O Lord, sir, they would know
Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2431
FTLN 2432
FTLN 2433
FTLN 2434
FTLN 2435
What, are there but three?
No, sir; but it is vara fine,
For every one pursents three.
BEROWNE
And three times thrice
is nine.
COSTARD
COSTARD
FTLN 2436
Not so, sir, under correction, sir, I hope it is not so.
535
191
FTLN 2437
FTLN 2438
FTLN 2439
FTLN 2440
FTLN 2441
FTLN 2442
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we
know what we know.
I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir—
BEROWNE
Is not nine?
COSTARD Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it
doth amount.
540
545
BEROWNE
FTLN 2443
FTLN 2444
FTLN 2445
FTLN 2446
FTLN 2447
FTLN 2448
FTLN 2449
FTLN 2450
FTLN 2451
FTLN 2452
FTLN 2453
FTLN 2454
FTLN 2455
By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
COSTARD O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your
living by reckoning, sir.
BEROWNE How much is it?
COSTARD O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors,
sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount. For
mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one
man in one poor man—Pompion the Great, sir.
BEROWNE Art thou one of the Worthies?
COSTARD It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey
the Great. For mine own part, I know not the
degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.
BEROWNE Go bid them prepare.
550
555
COSTARD
FTLN 2456
FTLN 2457
We will turn it finely off, sir. We will take some
care.
He exits.
560
KING
FTLN 2458
FTLN 2459
Berowne, they will shame us. Let them not
approach.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2460
FTLN 2461
FTLN 2462
FTLN 2463
We are shame-proof, my lord; and ’tis some policy
To have one show worse than the King’s and his
company.
KING I say they shall not come.
PRINCESS
FTLN 2464
FTLN 2465
Nay, my good lord, let me o’errule you now.
That sport best pleases that doth least know how,
565
193
FTLN 2466
FTLN 2467
FTLN 2468
FTLN 2469
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
Dies in the zeal of that which it presents.
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
When great things laboring perish in their birth.
570
BEROWNE
FTLN 2470
A right description of our sport, my lord.
Enter Braggart Armado.
FTLN 2471
FTLN 2472
FTLN 2473
FTLN 2474
FTLN 2475
ARMADO,
to King
Anointed, I implore so much expense
of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace
of words.
Armado and King step aside, and
Armado gives King a paper.
PRINCESS Doth this man serve God?
BEROWNE Why ask you?
575
PRINCESS
FTLN 2476
FTLN 2477
FTLN 2478
FTLN 2479
FTLN 2480
FTLN 2481
FTLN 2482
FTLN 2483
FTLN 2484
FTLN 2485
FTLN 2486
FTLN 2487
FTLN 2488
FTLN 2489
FTLN 2490
FTLN 2491
FTLN 2492
FTLN 2493
FTLN 2494
FTLN 2495
FTLN 2496
He speaks not like a man of God his making.
ARMADO, to King
That is all one, my fair sweet honey
monarch, for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding
fantastical, too, too vain, too, too vain. But
we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra.—I
wish you the peace of mind, most royal
couplement!
He exits.
KING , reading the paper
Here is like to be a good
presence of Worthies. He presents Hector of Troy,
the swain Pompey the Great, the parish curate
Alexander, Armado’s page Hercules, the pedant
Judas Maccabaeus.
And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
These four will change habits and present the other
five.
BEROWNE There is five in the first show.
KING You are deceived. ’Tis not so.
BEROWNE The pedant, the braggart, the hedge
priest, the fool, and the boy.
Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
580
585
590
595
195
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
KING
FTLN 2497
The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
600
Enter Costard as Pompey.
COSTARD
FTLN 2498
FTLN 2499
I Pompey am—
You lie; you are not he.
BEROWNE
COSTARD
FTLN 2500
FTLN 2501
I Pompey am—
BOYET
With leopard’s head on knee.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2502
FTLN 2503
Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with
thee.
605
COSTARD
FTLN 2504
FTLN 2505
I Pompey am, Pompey, surnamed the Big—
DUMAINE “The Great.”
COSTARD
FTLN 2506
FTLN 2507
FTLN 2508
FTLN 2509
FTLN 2510
FTLN 2511
FTLN 2512
FTLN 2513
FTLN 2514
FTLN 2515
FTLN 2516
FTLN 2517
FTLN 2518
FTLN 2519
FTLN 2520
It is “Great,” sir.—Pompey, surnamed the
Great,
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my
foe to sweat.
And traveling along this coast, I here am come by
chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of
France.
( He places his weapons at the feet of the Princess. )
If your Ladyship would say “Thanks, Pompey,” I
had done.
Great thanks, great Pompey.
PRINCESS
COSTARD ’Tis not so much worth, but I hope I was
perfect. I made a little fault in “Great.”
BEROWNE My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the
best Worthy.
Costard stands aside.
610
615
620
Enter Curate Nathaniel for Alexander.
NATHANIEL
FTLN 2521
FTLN 2522
When in the world I lived, I was the world’s
commander.
625
197
FTLN 2523
FTLN 2524
FTLN 2525
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
By east, west, north, and south, I spread my
conquering might.
My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander—
BOYET
FTLN 2526
FTLN 2527
FTLN 2528
FTLN 2529
Your nose says no, you are not, for it stands too
right.
BEROWNE , to Boyet
Your nose smells “no” in this , most tender-smelling
knight.
630
PRINCESS
FTLN 2530
FTLN 2531
The conqueror is dismayed.—Proceed, good
Alexander.
NATHANIEL
FTLN 2532
FTLN 2533
When in the world I lived, I was the world’s
commander—
635
BOYET
FTLN 2534
FTLN 2535
FTLN 2536
FTLN 2537
FTLN 2538
FTLN 2539
FTLN 2540
FTLN 2541
FTLN 2542
FTLN 2543
FTLN 2544
FTLN 2545
FTLN 2546
FTLN 2547
FTLN 2548
FTLN 2549
FTLN 2550
Most true; ’tis right. You were so, Alisander.
BEROWNE , to Costard
Pompey the Great—
COSTARD Your servant, and Costard.
BEROWNE Take away the conqueror. Take away
Alisander.
COSTARD, to Nathaniel
O sir, you have overthrown
Alisander the Conqueror. You will be scraped out of
the painted cloth for this. Your lion, that holds his
polax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax.
He will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror, and
afeard to speak? Run away for shame, Alisander.
Nathaniel exits.
There, an ’t shall please you, a foolish mild man, an
honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a
marvelous good neighbor, faith, and a very good
bowler. But, for Alisander—alas, you see how ’tis—
a little o’erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming
will speak their mind in some other sort.
Enter Pedant Holofernes for Judas, and the Boy
for Hercules.
640
645
650
199
FTLN 2551
PRINCESS,
Love’s Labor’s Lost
to Costard
ACT 5. SC. 2
Stand aside, good Pompey.
HOLOFERNES
FTLN 2552
FTLN 2553
FTLN 2554
FTLN 2555
FTLN 2556
FTLN 2557
FTLN 2558
Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club killed Cerberus, that three-headed canus,
And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
Ergo I come with this apology.
To Boy. Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Boy steps aside.
655
660
HOLOFERNES
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Judas I am—
DUMAINE A Judas!
HOLOFERNES Not Iscariot, sir.
Judas I am, yclept Maccabaeus.
DUMAINE Judas Maccabaeus clipped is plain Judas.
BEROWNE A kissing traitor.—How art thou proved
Judas?
665
HOLOFERNES
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Judas I am—
DUMAINE The more shame for you, Judas.
HOLOFERNES What mean you, sir?
BOYET To make Judas hang himself.
HOLOFERNES Begin, sir, you are my elder.
BEROWNE Well followed. Judas was hanged on an
elder.
HOLOFERNES I will not be put out of countenance.
BEROWNE Because thou hast no face.
HOLOFERNES What is this?
He points to his own face.
BOYET A cittern-head.
DUMAINE The head of a bodkin.
BEROWNE A death’s face in a ring.
LONGAVILLE The face of an old Roman coin, scarce
seen.
BOYET The pommel of Caesar’s falchion.
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675
680
201
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
The carved-bone face on a flask.
BEROWNE Saint George’s half-cheek in a brooch.
DUMAINE Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
BEROWNE Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer.
And now forward, for we have put thee in
countenance.
HOLOFERNES You have put me out of countenance.
BEROWNE False. We have given thee faces.
HOLOFERNES But you have outfaced them all.
DUMAINE
685
690
BEROWNE
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An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
BOYET
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Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.—
And so adieu, sweet Jude. Nay, why dost thou stay?
DUMAINE For the latter end of his name.
695
BEROWNE
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For the “ass” to the “Jude”? Give it him.—Jud-as,
away!
HOLOFERNES
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This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
700
BOYET
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A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark; he may
stumble.
Holofernes exits.
PRINCESS
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Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!
Enter Braggart Armado as Hector.
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Hide thy head, Achilles. Here comes Hector
in arms.
DUMAINE Though my mocks come home by me, I will
now be merry.
KING Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
BOYET But is this Hector?
KING I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.
LONGAVILLE His leg is too big for Hector’s.
DUMAINE More calf, certain.
BEROWNE
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
No, he is best endued in the small.
BEROWNE This cannot be Hector.
DUMAINE He’s a god or a painter, for he makes faces.
BOYET
715
ARMADO
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The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift—
DUMAINE A gilt nutmeg.
BEROWNE A lemon.
LONGAVILLE Stuck with cloves.
DUMAINE No, cloven.
ARMADO Peace!
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion,
A man so breathed, that certain he would fight, yea,
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
I am that flower—
DUMAINE That mint.
LONGAVILLE That columbine.
ARMADO Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
LONGAVILLE I must rather give it the rein, for it runs
against Hector.
DUMAINE Ay, and Hector’s a greyhound.
ARMADO The sweet warman is dead and rotten. Sweet
chucks, beat not the bones of the buried. When he
breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my
device. To Princess. Sweet royalty, bestow on me
the sense of hearing.
Berowne steps forth.
720
725
730
735
PRINCESS
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Speak, brave Hector. We are much delighted.
ARMADO I do adore thy sweet Grace’s slipper.
BOYET Loves her by the foot.
DUMAINE He may not by the yard.
ARMADO
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This Hector far surmounted Hannibal.
The party is gone—
740
205
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two
months on her way.
ARMADO What meanest thou?
COSTARD Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the
poor wench is cast away. She’s quick; the child
brags in her belly already. ’Tis yours.
ARMADO Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?
Thou shalt die!
COSTARD Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta,
that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey,
that is dead by him.
DUMAINE Most rare Pompey!
BOYET Renowned Pompey!
BEROWNE Greater than “Great”! Great, great, great
Pompey. Pompey the Huge!
DUMAINE Hector trembles.
BEROWNE Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates!
Stir them on, stir them on.
DUMAINE Hector will challenge him.
BEROWNE Ay, if he have no more man’s blood in his
belly than will sup a flea.
ARMADO, to Costard
By the North Pole, I do challenge
thee!
COSTARD I will not fight with a pole like a northern
man! I’ll slash. I’ll do it by the sword.—I bepray
you, let me borrow my arms again.
DUMAINE Room for the incensed Worthies!
COSTARD I’ll do it in my shirt.
He removes his doublet.
DUMAINE Most resolute Pompey!
BOY , to Armado
Master, let me take you a buttonhole
lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the
combat? What mean you? You will lose your
reputation.
ARMADO Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me. I will
not combat in my shirt.
COSTARD
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
You may not deny it. Pompey hath made the
challenge.
ARMADO Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
BEROWNE What reason have you for ’t?
ARMADO The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. I go
woolward for penance.
BOYET True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want
of linen; since when, I’ll be sworn, he wore none
but a dishclout of Jaquenetta’s, and that he wears
next his heart for a favor.
DUMAINE
780
785
Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.
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MARCADE ,
to Princess
God save you, madam.
PRINCESS Welcome, Marcade,
But that thou interruptest our merriment.
790
MARCADE
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I am sorry, madam, for the news I bring
Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father—
PRINCESS
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Dead, for my life.
MARCADE
795
Even so. My tale is told.
BEROWNE
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Worthies, away! The scene begins to cloud.
ARMADO For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I
have seen the day of wrong through the little hole
of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.
Worthies exit.
KING , to Princess
How fares your Majesty?
800
PRINCESS
FTLN 2699
Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight.
KING
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Madam, not so. I do beseech you stay.
PRINCESS, to Boyet
Prepare, I say.—I thank you, gracious lords,
For all your fair endeavors, and entreat,
Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
805
209
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
The liberal opposition of our spirits,
If overboldly we have borne ourselves
In the converse of breath; your gentleness
Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord.
A heavy heart bears not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
For my great suit so easily obtained.
810
KING
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The extreme parts of time extremely forms
All causes to the purpose of his speed,
And often at his very loose decides
That which long process could not arbitrate.
And though the mourning brow of progeny
Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
The holy suit which fain it would convince,
Yet since love’s argument was first on foot,
Let not the cloud of sorrow jostle it
From what it purposed, since to wail friends lost
Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
815
820
825
PRINCESS
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I understand you not. My griefs are double.
BEROWNE
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Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief,
And by these badges understand the King:
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humors
Even to the opposèd end of our intents.
And what in us hath seemed ridiculous—
As love is full of unbefitting strains,
All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
Formed by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
830
835
211
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
To every varied object in his glance;
Which parti-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false
By being once false forever to be true
To those that make us both—fair ladies, you.
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
ACT 5. SC. 2
840
845
850
PRINCESS
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We have received your letters full of love;
Your favors, the ambassadors of love;
And in our maiden council rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast and as lining to the time.
But more devout than this in our respects
Have we not been, and therefore met your loves
In their own fashion, like a merriment.
855
DUMAINE
FTLN 2757
Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest.
860
LONGAVILLE
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So did our looks.
ROSALINE
We did not quote them so.
KING
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Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
Grant us your loves.
PRINCESS
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in.
No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjured much,
Full of dear guiltiness, and therefore this:
If for my love—as there is no such cause—
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust, but go with speed
865
870
213
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world.
There stay until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about the annual reckoning.
If this austere insociable life
Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,
Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
She takes his hand.
And by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
I will be thine. And till that instant shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house,
Raining the tears of lamentation
For the remembrance of my father’s death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
Neither entitled in the other’s heart.
875
880
885
KING
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If this, or more than this, I would deny,
To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
Hence hermit, then. My heart is in thy breast.
They step aside.
DUMAINE , to Katherine
But what to me, my love? But what to me?
A wife?
KATHERINE
A beard, fair health, and honesty.
With threefold love I wish you all these three.
890
895
DUMAINE
FTLN 2795
O, shall I say “I thank you, gentle wife”?
KATHERINE
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Not so, my lord. A twelvemonth and a day
I’ll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say.
900
215
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
Come when the King doth to my lady come;
Then, if I have much love, I’ll give you some.
DUMAINE
FTLN 2800
I’ll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
KATHERINE
FTLN 2801
Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again.
They step aside.
LONGAVILLE
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What says Maria?
905
At the twelvemonth’s end
I’ll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
MARIA
LONGAVILLE
FTLN 2805
I’ll stay with patience, but the time is long.
MARIA
FTLN 2806
The liker you; few taller are so young.
They step aside.
BEROWNE ,
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FTLN 2810
to Rosaline
Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me.
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there.
Impose some service on me for thy love.
910
ROSALINE
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Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Berowne,
Before I saw you; and the world’s large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
Which you on all estates will execute
That lie within the mercy of your wit.
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
And therewithal to win me, if you please,
Without the which I am not to be won,
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
With all the fierce endeavor of your wit,
To enforce the painèd impotent to smile.
915
920
925
217
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
BEROWNE
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To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be, it is impossible.
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
930
ROSALINE
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Why, that’s the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools.
A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it. Then if sickly ears,
Deafed with the clamors of their own dear groans
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you and that fault withal.
But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.
935
940
BEROWNE
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FTLN 2842
A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall,
I’ll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
PRINCESS, to King
Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take my leave.
945
KING
FTLN 2843
No, madam, we will bring you on your way.
BEROWNE
FTLN 2844
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Our wooing doth not end like an old play.
Jack hath not Jill. These ladies’ courtesy
Might well have made our sport a comedy.
KING
FTLN 2847
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Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
And then ’twill end.
BEROWNE
That’s too long for a play.
Enter Braggart Armado.
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ARMADO
Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me—
950
219
Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
PRINCESS
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Was not that Hector?
The worthy knight of Troy.
ARMADO I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I
am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the
plow for her sweet love three year. But, most
esteemed Greatness, will you hear the dialogue that
the two learned men have compiled in praise of the
owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the
end of our show.
KING Call them forth quickly. We will do so.
ARMADO Holla! Approach.
DUMAINE
955
960
Enter all.
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This side is Hiems, Winter; this Ver, the Spring; the
one maintained by the owl, th’ other by the cuckoo.
Ver, begin.
The Song.
965
SPRING
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When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then on every tree
Mocks married men; for thus sings he:
“Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen’s clocks;
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks;
The cuckoo then on every tree
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
“Cuckoo!
970
975
980
221
FTLN 2881
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Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 5. SC. 2
Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
985
WINTER
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When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail;
When blood is nipped, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl
“Tu-whit to-who.” A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian’s nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl
“Tu-whit to-who.” A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
The words of Mercury are harsh after the
songs of Apollo. You that way; we this way.
They all exit.
ARMADO
990
995
1000