Scene II. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. Cost. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning || swain,) I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner. Biron. In what manner? Cost. 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. Biron. For the following, sir? Cost. As it shall follow in my correction; and King. Will you hear this letter with attention? Cost. Such is the simplicity 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 fostering patron,— Cost. Not a word of Costard yet. King. So it is, Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in telling true, but so, so. King. Peace. - Cost. be to me, and every man that dares not fight!- King. No words. and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO. Biron. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard. King. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this? Cost. Sir, I confess the wench. King. Did you hear the proclamation? King. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, Cost. I was taken with none, sir, I was taken with a damosel. King. Well, it was proclaimed damosel. Cost. This was no damosel neither, sir; she was a virgin. King. It is so varied too; for it was proclaimed, virgin. Cost. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid. King. This maid will not serve your turn, sir. Cost. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. King. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.→→→ [Exeunt King, Longaville, and Dumain. Cost. of other men's secrets, I beseech you. King. So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour to the most wholesome physic of thy health-My 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 walked upon: ground which; which, I mean, it is ycleped thy park. Then for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene and most preposterous event, that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured 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, Cost. Me. King. Cost. Me. that unletter'd small-knowing soul, King. that shallow vassal, - Cost. Still me. King. - which, as I remember, hight Costard, Cost. O me! Cost. 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 [Exeunt. prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again, and till then, Sit thee down, sorrow! mado's house. Enter Armado and Moth. Arm. Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grows melancholy? SCENE II-Another part of the same. Ar Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. Moth. No, no; O lord, sir, no. Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?2 Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the work King. sorted and consorted, contrary to thying, my tough senior. established proclaimed edict and continent canon, with-with-O with-but with this I passion to say wherewith. Cost. With a wench. King. 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, Antony Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation. Dull. Me, an't shall please you; I am Antony Dull. King. For Jaquenetta (so is the weaker vessel called, which I apprehended with the aforesaid (1) In the fact. (2) A young man. Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior? Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton, appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender. Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. Arm. Pretty, and apt. Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise. X 162 Moth. That an eel is quick. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. Arm. I do say, thou art quick in answers: Thou heatest my blood. Moth. I am answered, sir. Arm. I love not to be crossed. Moth. He speaks the mere contrary, crosses [Aside. love not him. Arm. I have promised to study three years with the duke. Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir. Moth. How many is one thrice told? Arm. I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. Moth. You are a gentleman, and a gamester, sir. Arm. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. Moth. Then, I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to. Arm. It doth amount to one more than two. Moth. If she be made of white and red, A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red. Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? Moth. 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. Arm. I will have the subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression3 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. Moth. To be whipped; and yet a better love [Aside. than my master. Arm. Sing, boy; my spirits grow heavy in love. Moth. And that's great marvel, loving a light Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Arm. A most fine figure! [Aside. Arm. 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 humour 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 courtesy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks, I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: What great men have been in love? Moth. Hercules, master. Arm. Most sweet Hercules!-More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage; for he carried the towngates on his back, like a porter: and he was in love. Arm. 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 Moth? Moth. A woman, master. Arm. Of what complexion? Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two ;| or one of the four. Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion. too. Arm. I say, sing. Moth. Forbear till this company be past. Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta. Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard safe: and you must let him take no delight, nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a-week you well. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allowed for the day-woman.4 Fare Arm. I do betray myself with blushing.-Maid. Jaq. Man. Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge. Arm. I know where it is situate. Arm. I love thee. Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta. Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences, ere thou be pardoned. Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach. Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished. Cost. I am more bound to you, than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded. Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers: but Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant. Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, (1) The name of a coin once current. Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up. Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away. Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, beloose. Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall seeMoth. What shall some see? Cost. Nay, nothing, master Moth, 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. [Exeunt Moth and Costard. Arm. I do affects the very ground, which is base, (3) Transgression. (4) Dairy-woman (5) Love Scene I. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. 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 Samson was 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, valour! 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 sonnetteer. Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. ACT II. [Exit. Between lord Perigort and the beauteous heir It should none spare that come within his power. Prin. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they Kath. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd Of all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: A pa Boyet. Now, madam, summon up your dearest? Consider who the king your father sends; Of all perfections that a man may owe, Prin. Good lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Tell him, the daughter of the king of France, Boyet. Proud of employment, willingly I go. [Exit. That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? (1) Arrow to shoot at butts with. Ros. Another of these students at that time Prin. God bless my ladies! are they all in love; Re-enter Boyet. Now, what admittance, lord? [The ladies mask. Enter King, Longaville, Dumain, Biron, and attendants. King. Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. Prin. 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 wild fields too base to be mine. King. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. Prin. I will be welcome then; conduct me King. Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath. (3) Confederates. Prin. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing| else. King. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold; [Gives a paper. King. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. Prin. You will the sooner, that I were away; For you'll prove perjur'd, if you make me stay. Biron. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? Ros. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? To ask the question! How needless was it then Biron. You must not be so quick. questions. Biron. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. Ros. Not till it leaves the rider in the mire. Ros. The hour that fools should ask. King, Madam, your father here doth intimate, A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, Which we much rather had depart2 withal, Dear princess, were not his requests so far Prin. You do the king my father too much wrong, Prin. We arrest your word: Boyet, you can produce acquittances, For such a sum, from special officers Boyet. So please your grace, the packet is not come, Where that and other specialities are bound, King. It shall suffice me: at which interview, Prin. Sweet health and fair desires consort your Ros. 'Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it. Biron. I would, you heard it groan. Ros. Is the fool sick? Biron. Sick at heart. Ros. Alack, let it blood. Biron. Would that do it good? Ros. My physic says, 1.3 Biron. Will you prick't with your eye? Ros. No poynt, with my knife. Biron. Now, God save thy life! Biron. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring. that same? Boyet. She hath but one for herself; to desire that, were a shame. Long. Pray you, sir, whose daughter? Boyet. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Boyet. Of Charles his father. Boyet. And wherefore not ships? (4) A French particle of negation. No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. Mar. You sheep, and I pasture; Shall that finish the jest? Boyet. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her. Mar. Not so, gentle beast; My lips are no common, though several' they be. Boyet. Belonging to whom? Mar. Arm. How means't thou? brawling in French? Moth. No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at the tongue's end, canary4 to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your eyelids; sigh a note, and sing a note; sometime through the throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love; sometime through the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouseTo my fortunes and me.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 complements, these are humours; these betray nice wenches-that would be betrayed without these; and make them men of note (do you note, men?) that most are affected to these. Prin. Good wits will be jangling: but, gentles, agree: The civil war of wits were much better used By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed with eyes, Prin. With what? Boyet. With that which we lovers entitle,affected. Prin. Your reason? Boyet. Why, all his behaviours did make their To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire: Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. I only have made a mouth of his eye, Mar. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. Ros. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but grim. Boyet. Do you hear, my mad wenches? Boyet. No. What then, do you see? Ros. Ay, our way to be gone. Boyet. You are too hard for me. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-Another part of the same. Enter Armado and Moth. Arm. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. Moth. Concolinel[Singing. Arm. Sweet air!-Go, tenderness of years; take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately? hither; I must employ him in a letter to my love. Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?3 (1) A quibble, several signified unenclosed lands. (2) Hastily. (3) A kind of dance. Arm. How hast thou purchased this experience? Moth. the hobby-horse is forgot. Arm. Callest thou my love, hobby-horse? Moth. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love, perhaps, a hackney. But have you forgot your love? Arm. Almost I had. Moth. Negligent student! learn her by heart. Arm. By heart, and in heart, boy. Moth. And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove. Arm. What wilt thou prove? Moth. 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. Arm. I am all these three. Moth. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all! Arm. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. Moth. A message well sympathised; a horse to be ambassador for an ass! Arm. Ha, ha! what sayest thou? Moth. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited: But I go." Arm. The way is but short; away. Moth. As swift as lead, sir. Arm. Thy meaning, pretty ingenious? Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? ter, no. Moth. You are too swift, sir, to say so; Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun? Arm. Sweet smoke of rhetoric! He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he: |