diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:43 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:43 -0700 |
| commit | 5945c35f0407a9ccb8e4076d10129d4894d3469e (patch) | |
| tree | a660314b85cc944916c3987585cf7b37d4068855 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1774.txt | 3589 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1774.zip | bin | 0 -> 58925 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
5 files changed, 3605 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1774.txt b/1774.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35f78b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/1774.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3589 @@ + + +******************************************************************* +THIS EBOOK WAS ONE OF PROJECT GUTENBERG'S EARLY FILES PRODUCED AT A +TIME WHEN PROOFING METHODS AND TOOLS WERE NOT WELL DEVELOPED. THERE +IS AN IMPROVED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY BE VIEWED AS EBOOK +(#100) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/100 +******************************************************************* + + +This Etext file is presented by Project Gutenberg, in +cooperation with World Library, Inc., from their Library of the +Future and Shakespeare CDROMS. Project Gutenberg often releases +Etexts that are NOT placed in the Public Domain!! + +*This Etext has certain copyright implications you should read!* + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND +MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES +(1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT +DISTRIBUTED OR USED COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL +DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD +TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + +*Project Gutenberg is proud to cooperate with The World Library* +in the presentation of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare +for your reading for education and entertainment. HOWEVER, THIS +IS NEITHER SHAREWARE NOR PUBLIC DOMAIN. . .AND UNDER THE LIBRARY +OF THE FUTURE CONDITIONS OF THIS PRESENTATION. . .NO CHARGES MAY +BE MADE FOR *ANY* ACCESS TO THIS MATERIAL. YOU ARE ENCOURAGED!! +TO GIVE IT AWAY TO ANYONE YOU LIKE, BUT NO CHARGES ARE ALLOWED!! + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +The Complete Works of William Shakespeare +Love's Labour's Lost + +November, 1997 [Etext #1774] + + +The Library of the Future Complete Works of William Shakespeare +Library of the Future is a TradeMark (TM) of World Library Inc. +******This file should be named 1774.txt or 1774.zip***** + + +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar, then we produce 2 +million dollars per hour this year we, will have to do four text +files per month: thus upping our productivity from one million. +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is 10% of the expected number of computer users by the end +of the year 2001. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU", and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law ("CMU" is Carnegie +Mellon University). + +Please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +You can visit our web site at promo.net for complete information +about Project Gutenberg. + +When all other else fails try our Executive Director: +dircompg@pobox.com or hart@pobox.com + +****** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + + +***** SMALL PRINT! for COMPLETE SHAKESPEARE ***** + +THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., +AND IS PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF +CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY WITH PERMISSION. + +Since unlike many other Project Gutenberg-tm etexts, this etext +is copyright protected, and since the materials and methods you +use will effect the Project's reputation, your right to copy and +distribute it is limited by the copyright and other laws, and by +the conditions of this "Small Print!" statement. + +1. LICENSE + + A) YOU MAY (AND ARE ENCOURAGED) TO DISTRIBUTE ELECTRONIC AND +MACHINE READABLE COPIES OF THIS ETEXT, SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES +(1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT +DISTRIBUTED OR USED COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL +DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD +TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP. + + B) This license is subject to the conditions that you honor +the refund and replacement provisions of this "small print!" +statement; and that you distribute exact copies of this etext, +including this Small Print statement. Such copies can be +compressed or any proprietary form (including any form resulting +from word processing or hypertext software), so long as +*EITHER*: + + (1) The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and does + *not* contain characters other than those intended by the + author of the work, although tilde (~), asterisk (*) and + underline (_) characters may be used to convey punctuation + intended by the author, and additional characters may be used + to indicate hypertext links; OR + + (2) The etext is readily convertible by the reader at no + expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent form by the + program that displays the etext (as is the case, for instance, + with most word processors); OR + + (3) You provide or agree to provide on request at no + additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the etext in plain + ASCII. + +2. LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES + +This etext may contain a "Defect" in the form of incomplete, +inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or +other infringement, a defective or damaged disk, computer virus, +or codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. But +for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, the +Project (and any other party you may receive this etext from as +a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all liability to you for +damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees, and YOU HAVE +NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR +BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF +YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of receiv- +ing it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid +for it by sending an explanatory note within that time to the +person you received it from. If you received it on a physical +medium, you must return it with your note, and such person may +choose to alternatively give you a replacement copy. If you +received it electronically, such person may choose to +alternatively give you a second opportunity to receive it +electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. Some states do not allow disclaimers of +implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of consequen- +tial damages, so the above disclaimers and exclusions may not +apply to you, and you may have other legal rights. + +3. INDEMNITY: You will indemnify and hold the Project, its +directors, officers, members and agents harmless from all lia- +bility, cost and expense, including legal fees, that arise +directly or indirectly from any of the following that you do or +cause: [A] distribution of this etext, [B] alteration, +modification, or addition to the etext, or [C] any Defect. + +4. WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. The Project gratefully accepts +contributions in money, time, scanning machines, OCR software, +public domain etexts, royalty free copyright licenses, and +whatever else you can think of. Money should be paid to "Pro- +ject Gutenberg Association / Carnegie Mellon University". + +WRITE TO US! We can be reached at: + Internet: hart@pobox.com + Mail: Prof. Michael Hart + P.O. Box 2782 + Champaign, IL 61825 + +This "Small Print!" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney +Internet (72600.2026@compuserve.com); TEL: (212-254-5093) +**** SMALL PRINT! FOR __ COMPLETE SHAKESPEARE **** +["Small Print" V.12.08.93] + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + + + +1595 + +LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST + +by William Shakespeare + + + +Dramatis Personae. + + FERDINAND, King of Navarre + BEROWNE, lord attending on the King + LONGAVILLE, " " " " " + DUMAIN, " " " " " + BOYET, lord attending on the Princess of France + MARCADE, " " " " " " " + DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, fantastical Spaniard + SIR NATHANIEL, a curate + HOLOFERNES, a schoolmaster + DULL, a constable + COSTARD, a clown + MOTH, page to Armado + A FORESTER + + THE PRINCESS OF FRANCE + ROSALINE, lady attending on the Princess + MARIA, " " " " " + KATHARINE, lady attending on the Princess + JAQUENETTA, a country wench + + Lords, Attendants, etc. + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +SCENE: +Navarre + + +ACT I. SCENE I. +Navarre. The King's park + +[Enter the King, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN.] + + KING. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, + Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs, + And then grace us in the disgrace of death; + When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, + Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy + That honour 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, Dumain, 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. + Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names, + That his own hand may strike his honour down + That violates the smallest branch herein. + If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do, + Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. + LONGAVILLE. I am resolv'd; '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 bankrupt quite the wits. + DUMAIN. My loving lord, Dumain 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. + BEROWNE. 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 enrolled there; + And one day in a week to touch no food, + And but one meal on every day beside, + The which I hope is not enrolled 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 enrolled there. + O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, + Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep! + KING. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these. + BEROWNE. 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. You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest. + BEROWNE. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. + What is the end of study, let me know. + KING. Why, that to know which else we should not know. + BEROWNE. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense? + KING. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. + BEROWNE. 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. + KING. These be the stops that hinder study quite, + And train our intellects to vain delight. + BEROWNE. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain + Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain, + As painfully to pore upon a book + To seek the light of truth; while truth the while + 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-search'd 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 fixed 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 nought but fame; + And every godfather can give a name. + KING. How well he's read, to reason against reading! + DUMAIN. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding! + LONGAVILLE. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. + BEROWNE. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding. + DUMAIN. How follows that? + BEROWNE. Fit in his place and time. + DUMAIN. In reason nothing. + BEROWNE. Something then in rhyme. + LONGAVILLE. Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost + That bites the first-born infants of the spring. + BEROWNE. 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. + KING. Well, sit out; go home, Berowne; adieu. + BEROWNE. 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 swore, + 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. + KING. 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 devis'd this penalty? + LONGAVILLE. Marry, that did I. + BEROWNE. Sweet lord, and why? + LONGAVILLE. To fright them hence with that dread penalty. + BEROWNE. 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 possibly devise.' + 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 mild 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' admired princess hither. + KING. What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. + BEROWNE. So study evermore is over-shot. + 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. + KING. We must of force dispense with this decree; + She must lie here on mere necessity. + BEROWNE. 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 mast'red, 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; [Subscribes] + 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. + But is there no quick recreation granted? + KING. Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted + With a refined traveller 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 complements, 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. + BEROWNE. Armado is a most illustrious wight, + A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. + LONGAVILLE. 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.] + + DULL. Which is the Duke's own person? + BEROWNE. This, fellow. What wouldst? + DULL. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his Grace's + farborough; but I would see his own person in flesh and +blood. + BEROWNE. This is he. + DULL. Signior Arme- Arme- commends you. There's villainy +abroad; + this letter will tell you more. + COSTARD. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me. + KING. A letter from the magnificent Armado. + BEROWNE. How 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 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 +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! + KING. No words! + COSTARD. Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. + KING. [Reads] 'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured +melancholy, I + did commend the black oppressing humour 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 upon; it is ycleped 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-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,' + COSTARD. Me? + KING. 'that unlettered small-knowing soul,' + COSTARD. Me? + KING. 'that shallow vassal,' + COSTARD. Still me? + KING. 'which, as I remember, hight Costard,' + COSTARD. O, me! + KING. '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. '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 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 + heart-burning heat of duty, + DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.' + + BEROWNE. This is not so well as I look'd for, but the best that + ever I heard. + KING. Ay, the best for the worst. 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. + KING. 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' 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. + KING. 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. + [Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN.] + BEROWNE. I'll lay my head to any good man'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. + [Exeunt] + + + + +SCENE II. +The park + +[Enter ARMADO and MOTH, his page.] + + ARMADO. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows + melancholy? + MOTH. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. + ARMADO. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. + MOTH. No, no; O Lord, sir, no! + ARMADO. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender + juvenal? + MOTH. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough +signior. + ARMADO. Why tough signior? Why tough signior? + MOTH. 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. + MOTH. And I, tough signior, as an appertinent title to your old + time, which we may name tough. + ARMADO. Pretty and apt. + MOTH. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, +and + my saying pretty? + ARMADO. Thou pretty, because little. + MOTH. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? + ARMADO. And therefore apt, because quick. + MOTH. Speak you this in my praise, master? + ARMADO. In thy condign praise. + MOTH. I will praise an eel with the same praise. + ARMADO. That an eel is ingenious? + MOTH. That an eel is quick. + ARMADO. I do say thou art quick in answers; thou heat'st my +blood. + MOTH. I am answer'd, sir. + ARMADO. I love not to be cross'd. + MOTH. [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary: crosses love not +him. + ARMADO. I have promised to study three years with the Duke. + MOTH. You may do it in an hour, sir. + ARMADO. Impossible. + MOTH. How many is one thrice told? + ARMADO. I am ill at reck'ning; it fitteth the spirit of a +tapster. + MOTH. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. + ARMADO. 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. + ARMADO. It doth amount to one more than two. + MOTH. Which the base vulgar do call three. + ARMADO. True. + MOTH. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is +three + studied ere ye'll thrice wink; and how 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! + MOTH. [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 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-devis'd curtsy. I + think scorn to sigh; methinks I should out-swear Cupid. +Comfort + me, boy; what great men have been in love? + MOTH. 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. + MOTH. 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 Moth? + MOTH. A woman, master. + ARMADO. Of what complexion? + MOTH. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the + four. + ARMADO. Tell me precisely of what complexion. + MOTH. Of the sea-water green, sir. + ARMADO. Is that one of the four complexions? + MOTH. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. + ARMADO. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a +love + of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He + surely affected her for her wit. + MOTH. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. + ARMADO. My love is most immaculate white and red. + MOTH. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd under such + colours. + ARMADO. Define, define, well-educated infant. + MOTH. My father's wit my mother's tongue assist me! + ARMADO. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and +pathetical! + MOTH. 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? + 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. + 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. + MOTH. [Aside] To be whipt; and yet a better love than my +master. + ARMADO. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. + MOTH. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench. + ARMADO. 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 suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but 'a + must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her +at + the park; she is allow'd for the day-woman. Fare you well. + ARMADO. 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! + DULL. Come, Jaquenetta, away. Exit with JAQUENETTA + ARMADO. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences 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. Take away this villain; shut him up. + MOTH. Come, you transgressing slave, away. + COSTARD. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose. + MOTH. 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. + MOTH. What shall some see? + COSTARD. 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 + 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, 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 sonnet. + Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. + Exit + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT II. SCENE II. +The park + +Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, with three attending ladies, +ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, and two other LORDS + + BOYET. 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 beside + And prodigally gave them all to you. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 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 utt'red 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, + 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-visag'd suitors, his high will. + BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. All pride is willing pride, and yours is +so. + [Exit BOYET] + Who are the votaries, my loving lords, + That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? + FIRST LORD. Lord Longaville is one. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Know you the man? + MARIA. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast, + Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir + Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized + In Normandy, saw I this Longaville. + A man of sovereign parts, peerless esteem'd, + 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 match'd with too blunt a will, + Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills + It should none spare that come within his power. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so? + MARIA. They say so most that most his humours know. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they +grow. + Who are the rest? + KATHARINE. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd 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 Alencon's once; + And much too little of that good I saw + Is my report to his great worthiness. + ROSALINE. 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 aged ears play truant at his tales, + And younger hearings are quite ravished; + So sweet and voluble is his discourse. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. God bless my ladies! Are they all in love, + That every one her own hath garnished + With such bedecking ornaments of praise? + FIRST LORD. Here comes Boyet. + + Re-enter BOYET + + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Now, what admittance, lord? + BOYET. Navarre had notice of your fair approach, + And he and his competitors in oath + Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady, + Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt: + 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. + [The LADIES-IN-WAITING mask] + + Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BEROWNE, + and ATTENDANTS + + Here comes Navarre. + KING. Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. '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. + KING. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither. + KING. Hear me, dear lady: I have sworn an oath- + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Our Lady help my lord! He'll be forsworn. + KING. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing + else. + KING. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, + Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. + I hear your Grace hath sworn out house-keeping. + '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. [Giving a paper] + KING. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. You will the sooner that I were away, + For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me stay. + BEROWNE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? + KATHARINE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? + BEROWNE. I know you did. + KATHARINE. How needless was it then to ask the question! + BEROWNE. You must not be so quick. + KATHARINE. 'Tis long of you, that spur me with such questions. + BEROWNE. Your wit 's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire. + KATHARINE. Not till it leave the rider in the mire. + BEROWNE. What time o' day? + KATHARINE. The hour that fools should ask. + BEROWNE. Now fair befall your mask! + KATHARINE. Fair fall the face it covers! + BEROWNE. And send you many lovers! + KATHARINE. Amen, so you be none. + BEROWNE. Nay, then will I be gone. + KING. Madam, your father here doth intimate + The payment of a hundred thousand crowns; + Being but the one half of an entire sum + Disbursed by my father in his wars. + But say that he or we, as neither have, + Receiv'd 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. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 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. + KING. I do protest I never heard of it; + And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back + Or yield up Aquitaine. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We arrest your word. + Boyet, you can produce acquittances + For such a sum from special officers + Of Charles his father. + KING. Satisfy me so. + BOYET. So please your Grace, the packet is not come, + Where that and other specialties are bound; + To-morrow you shall have a sight of them. + KING. It shall suffice me; at which interview + All liberal reason I will yield unto. + Meantime receive such welcome at my hand + As honour, without breach of honour, may + Make tender of to thy true worthiness. + You may not come, fair Princess, within my gates; + But here without you shall be so receiv'd + As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart, + Though so denied fair harbour in my house. + Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell. + To-morrow shall we visit you again. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet health and fair desires consort your + Grace! + KING. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place. + [Exit with attendants] + BEROWNE. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart. + ROSALINE. Pray you, do my commendations; + I would be glad to see it. + BEROWNE. I would you heard it groan. + ROSALINE. Is the fool sick? + BEROWNE. Sick at the heart. + ROSALINE. Alack, let it blood. + BEROWNE. Would that do it good? + ROSALINE. My physic says 'ay.' + BEROWNE. Will YOU prick't with your eye? + ROSALINE. No point, with my knife. + BEROWNE. Now, God save thy life! + ROSALINE. And yours from long living! + BEROWNE. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring] + DUMAIN. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same? + BOYET. The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name. + DUMAIN. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. Exit + LONGAVILLE. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white? + BOYET. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. + LONGAVILLE. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name. + BOYET. 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. + BOYET. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Exit LONGAVILLE + BEROWNE. 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. + Exit BEROWNE. LADIES Unmask + MARIA. That last is Berowne, the merry mad-cap lord; + Not a word with him but a jest. + BOYET. And every jest but a word. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. It was well done of you to take him at his + word. + BOYET. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board. + KATHARINE. Two hot sheeps, marry! + BOYET. And wherefore not ships? + No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. + KATHARINE. You sheep and I pasture- shall that finish the jest? + BOYET. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her] + KATHARINE. Not so, gentle beast; + My lips are no common, though several they be. + BOYET. Belonging to whom? + KATHARINE. To my fortunes and me. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, + agree; + This civil war of wits were much better used + On Navarre and his book-men, for here 'tis abused. + BOYET. If my observation, which very seldom lies, + By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes, + Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. With what? + BOYET. With that which we lovers entitle 'affected.' + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Your reason? + BOYET. Why, all his behaviours 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 lock'd in his eye, + As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy; + Who, tend'ring their own worth from where they were glass'd, + Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd. + 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 OF FRANCE. Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is dispos'd. + BOYET. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclos'd; + I only have made a mouth of his eye, + By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. + MARIA. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully. + KATHARINE. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. + ROSALINE. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but + grim. + BOYET. Do you hear, my mad wenches? + MARIA. No. + BOYET. What, then; do you see? + MARIA. Ay, our way to be gone. + BOYET. You are too hard for me. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT III. SCENE I. +The park + +Enter ARMADO and MOTH + + ARMADO. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing. + [MOTH sings Concolinel] + ARMADO. 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? + ARMADO. How meanest thou? Brawling in French? + MOTH. No, my complete master; but to jig off a tune at the +tongue's + end, canary 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 snuff'd up love by smelling love, + with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes, with + your arms cross'd 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 me?- that most are affected to these. + ARMADO. How hast thou purchased this experience? + MOTH. By my penny of observation. + ARMADO. But O- but O- + MOTH. The hobby-horse is forgot. + ARMADO. Call'st 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? + ARMADO. Almost I had. + MOTH. Negligent student! learn her by heart. + ARMADO. By heart and in heart, boy. + MOTH. And out of heart, master; all those three I will prove. + ARMADO. 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. + ARMADO. I am all these three. + MOTH. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all. + ARMADO. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter. + MOTH. A message well sympathiz'd- a horse to be ambassador for +an + ass. + ARMADO. 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. + ARMADO. The way is but short; away. + MOTH. As swift as lead, sir. + ARMADO. The meaning, pretty ingenious? + Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? + MOTH. Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no. + ARMADO. I say lead is slow. + MOTH. You are too swift, sir, to say so: + Is that lead slow which is fir'd 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. + MOTH. Thump, then, and I flee. Exit + ARMADO. A most acute juvenal; volable and free of grace! + By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face; + Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place. + My herald is return'd. + + Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD + + MOTH. A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin. + ARMADO. Some enigma, some riddle; come, thy l'envoy; begin. + COSTARD. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, +sir. + O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy; +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'envoy, and the word 'l'envoy' for a salve? + MOTH. Do the wise think them other? Is not l'envoy a salve? + ARMADO. No, page; it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain + 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'envoy. + MOTH. I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again. + ARMADO. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, + Were still at odds, being but three. + MOTH. Until the goose came out of door, + And stay'd the odds by adding four. + Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my +l'envoy. + The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, + Were still at odds, being but three. + ARMADO. Until the goose came out of door, + Staying the odds by adding four. + MOTH. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; would you desire +more? + COSTARD. 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'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose. + ARMADO. Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin? + MOTH. By saying that a costard was broken in a shin. + Then call'd you for the l'envoy. + COSTARD. True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your argument +in; + Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought; + And he ended the market. + ARMADO. But tell me: how was there a costard broken in a shin? + MOTH. I will tell you sensibly. + COSTARD. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that + l'envoy. + 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'envoy, 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 [giving a letter] to the country maid Jaquenetta; + there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honour is + rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. Exit + MOTH. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu. + COSTARD. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my incony Jew! + [Exit MOTH] + Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's +the + Latin word for three farthings. Three farthings- +remuneration. + '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. + + Enter BEROWNE + + BEROWNE. My good knave Costard, exceedingly well met! + COSTARD. 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! + BEROWNE. Stay, slave; I must employ thee. + As thou wilt win my favour, 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 to-morrow 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 + This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go. + [Giving him a shilling] + COSTARD. Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration; a + 'leven-pence farthing better; most sweet gardon! I will do +it, + sir, in print. Gardon- remuneration! Exit + BEROWNE. And I, forsooth, in love; I, that have been love's +whip; + A very beadle to a humorous sigh; + A critic, nay, a night-watch constable; + A domineering pedant o'er the boy, + Than whom no mortal so magnificent! + This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, + This senior-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 colours 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 watch'd that it may still go right! + Nay, to be perjur'd, 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 + That Cupid will impose for my neglect + Of his almighty dreadful little might. + Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan: + Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. Exit + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT IV. SCENE I. +The park + +Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, LORDS, +ATTENDANTS, +and a FORESTER + + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Was that the King that spurr'd his horse so + hard + Against the steep uprising of the hill? + BOYET. I know not; but I think it was not he. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Whoe'er 'a was, 'a show'd a mounting mind. + Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch; + On Saturday we will return to France. + Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush + That we must stand and play the murderer in? + FORESTER. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice; + A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I thank my beauty I am fair that shoot, + And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot. + FORESTER. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What, what? First praise me, and again say +no? + O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? Alack for woe! + FORESTER. Yes, madam, fair. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nay, never paint me now; + Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. + Here, good my glass, take this for telling true: + [Giving him money] + Fair payment for foul words is more than due. + FORESTER. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit. + O heresy in fair, fit for these days! + A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. + But come, the 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. + BOYET. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty + Only for praise sake, when they strive to be + Lords o'er their lords? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Only for praise; and praise we may afford + To any lady that subdues a lord. + + Enter COSTARD + + BOYET. Here comes a member of the commonwealth. + COSTARD. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest +that + have no heads. + COSTARD. Which is the greatest lady, the highest? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The thickest and the tallest. + COSTARD. 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 OF FRANCE. What's your will, sir? What's your will? + COSTARD. I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to one + Lady Rosaline. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 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. I am bound to serve. + This letter is mistook; it importeth none here. + It is writ to Jaquenetta. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We will read it, I swear. + Break the neck of the wax, and every one 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 annothanize +in + the vulgar,- O base and obscure vulgar!- videlicet, He came, +saw, + and overcame. He came, one; saw, 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 enrich'd; 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 are thou then? + Food for his rage, repasture for his den.' + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What plume of feathers is he that indited +this + letter? + What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear better? + BOYET. I am much deceived but I remember the style. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it + erewhile. + BOYET. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; + A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport + To the Prince and his book-mates. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou fellow, a word. + Who gave thee this letter? + COSTARD. I told you: my lord. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. To whom shouldst thou give it? + COSTARD. From my lord to my lady. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. From which lord to which lady? + COSTARD. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine, + To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, + + away. + [To ROSALINE] Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine +another + day. Exeunt PRINCESS and TRAIN + BOYET. Who is the shooter? who is the shooter? + ROSALINE. Shall I teach you to know? + BOYET. Ay, my continent of beauty. + ROSALINE. Why, she that bears the bow. + Finely put off! + BOYET. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry, + Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. + Finely put on! + ROSALINE. Well then, I am the shooter. + BOYET. And who is your deer? + ROSALINE. If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near. + Finely put on indeed! + MARIA. You Still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at +the + brow. + BOYET. 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 Pepin 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 Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the +hit + it. + ROSALINE. [Singing] + Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, + Thou canst not hit it, my good man. + BOYET. An I cannot, cannot, cannot, + An I cannot, another can. + Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE + COSTARD. By my troth, most pleasant! How both did fit it! + MARIA. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it. + BOYET. 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. Wide o' the bow-hand! I' faith, your hand is out. + COSTARD. Indeed, 'a must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the + clout. + BOYET. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. + COSTARD. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. + MARIA. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. + COSTARD. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her +to + bowl. + BOYET. I fear too much rubbing; good-night, my good owl. + Exeunt BOYET and MARIA + COSTARD. 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 a th' t'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 'a will swear! + And his page a t' other side, that handful of wit! + Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit! + Sola, sola! Exit COSTARD + + + + +SCENE II. +The park + +From the shooting within, enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and +DULL + + NATHANIEL. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the +testimony of + a good conscience. + HOLOFERNES. 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 ye 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! + NATHANIEL. 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. + But, omne bene, say I, being of an old father's mind: + Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. + DULL. You two are book-men: 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 Dictynna? + NATHANIEL. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. + HOLOFERNES. The moon was a month old when Adam was no more, + And raught not to five weeks when he came to five-score. + 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 polusion holds in the exchange; for the +moon is + never but a month old; and I say, beside, that 'twas a +pricket + that the Princess kill'd. + HOLOFERNES. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph +on + the death of the deer? And, to humour the ignorant, call the +deer + the Princess kill'd 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 pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing + pricket. + Some say a sore; but not a sore till now made sore with +shooting. + The dogs did yell; put el 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. + HOLOFERNES. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a +foolish + extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, + ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions. These are begot +in + the ventricle of memory, nourish'd 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. + NATHANIEL. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my + parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd 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 sapit qui pauca loquitur. A soul feminine +saluteth + us. + + Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD + + JAQUENETTA. God give you good morrow, Master Person. + HOLOFERNES. Master Person, quasi pers-one. And if one should be + pierc'd which is the one? + COSTARD. Marry, Master Schoolmaster, he that is likest to a + hogshead. + HOLOFERNES. Piercing a hogshead! A good lustre of conceit in a +turf + of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine; +'tis + pretty; it is well. + JAQUENETTA. 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. + HOLOFERNES. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra + Ruminat- + and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of thee as + the traveller doth of Venice: + Venetia, Venetia, + Chi non ti vede, non ti pretia. + Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, + loves thee not- + Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. + Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather as + Horace says in his- What, my soul, verses? + NATHANIEL. Ay, sir, and very learned. + HOLOFERNES. Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; 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 learned is that tongue that well can thee commend; + 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 singes heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue.' + HOLOFERNES. You find not the apostrophas, and so miss the +accent: + let me supervise the canzonet. 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. + HOLOFERNES. I will overglance the superscript: 'To 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. 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. + Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA + NATHANIEL. 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 +colourable + colours. But to return to the verses: did they please you, +Sir + Nathaniel? + NATHANIEL. Marvellous well for the pen. + HOLOFERNES. I do dine to-day 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 savouring 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. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE III. +The park + +Enter BEROWNE, with a paper his band, alone + + BEROWNE. The King he is hunting the deer: I am coursing myself. + They have pitch'd a toil: I am tolling 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 am 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. 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! + [Climbs into a tree] + + Enter the KING, with a paper + + KING. Ay me! + BEROWNE. Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast +thump'd + him with thy bird-bolt 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 eye-beams, 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.' + How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper- + Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? + [Steps aside] + + [Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper] + + What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, ear. + BEROWNE. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear! + LONGAVILLE. Ay me, I am forsworn! + BEROWNE. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers. + KING. In love, I hope; sweet fellowship in shame! + BEROWNE. One drunkard loves another of the name. + LONGAVILLE. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so? + BEROWNE. 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. + LONGAVILLE. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move. + O sweet Maria, empress of my love! + These numbers will I tear, and write in prose. + BEROWNE. O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose: + Disfigure not his slop. + LONGAVILLE. 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; + Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me. + Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is; + Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, + Exhal'st this vapour-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. 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. + + Enter DUMAIN, with a paper + + LONGAVILLE. By whom shall I send this?- Company! Stay. + [Steps aside] + BEROWNE. 'All hid, all hid'- an old infant play. + Like a demigod here sit I in the sky, + And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye. + More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish! + Dumain transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish! + DUMAIN. O most divine Kate! + BEROWNE. O most profane coxcomb! + DUMAIN. By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye! + BEROWNE. By earth, she is not, corporal: there you lie. + DUMAIN. Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted. + BEROWNE. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted. + DUMAIN. As upright as the cedar. + BEROWNE. Stoop, I say; + Her shoulder is with child. + DUMAIN. As fair as day. + BEROWNE. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine. + DUMAIN. O that I had my wish! + LONGAVILLE. And I had mine! + KING. And I mine too, good Lord! + BEROWNE. Amen, so I had mine! Is not that a good word? + DUMAIN. I would forget her; but a fever she + Reigns in my blood, and will rememb'red be. + BEROWNE. A fever in your blood? Why, then incision + Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision! + DUMAIN. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. + BEROWNE. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. + DUMAIN. [Reads] + '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, + Wish'd 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; + 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 perjur'd note; + For none offend where all alike do dote. + LONGAVILLE. [Advancing] Dumain, 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'erheard and taken napping so. + KING. [Advancing] 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 wreathed arms athwart + His loving bosom, to keep down his heart. + I have been closely shrouded in this bush, + And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush. + I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd 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; + [To DUMAIN] 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. [Descending] 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 perjur'd; '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? + 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 transformed to a gnat! + To see great Hercules whipping a gig, + And profound Solomon to tune a jig, + And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, + And critic Timon laugh at idle toys! + Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain? + 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 over-view? + BEROWNE. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. + I that am honest, I that hold it sin + To break the vow I am engaged 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- + KING. Soft! whither away so fast? + A true man or a thief that gallops so? + BEROWNE. I post from love; good lover, let me go. + + Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD + + JAQUENETTA. God bless the King! + KING. What present hast thou there? + COSTARD. Some certain treason. + KING. What makes treason here? + COSTARD. Nay, it makes nothing, sir. + KING. If it mar nothing neither, + The treason and you go in peace away together. + JAQUENETTA. I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read; + Our person misdoubts it: 'twas treason, he said. + KING. Berowne, read it over. [BEROWNE reads the letter] + Where hadst thou it? + JAQUENETTA. Of Costard. + KING. Where hadst thou it? + COSTARD. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. + [BEROWNE tears the letter] + KING. How now! What is in you? Why dost thou tear it? + BEROWNE. A toy, my liege, a toy! Your Grace needs not fear it. + LONGAVILLE. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's +hear + it. + DUMAIN. It is Berowne's writing, and here is his name. + [Gathering up the pieces] + BEROWNE. [To COSTARD] Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were +born + to do me shame. + Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess. + KING. What? + BEROWNE. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the +mess; + He, he, and you- and you, my liege!- and I + Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die. + O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. + DUMAIN. Now the number is even. + BEROWNE. True, true, we are four. + Will these turtles be gone? + KING. Hence, sirs, away. + COSTARD. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. + [Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA] + BEROWNE. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace! + As true we are as flesh and blood can be. + The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; + 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. + KING. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine? + BEROWNE. 'Did they?' quoth you. Who sees the heavenly Rosaline + That, like a rude and savage man of Inde + 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? + KING. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee now? + My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; + She, an attending star, scarce seen a light. + BEROWNE. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. + O, but for my love, day would turn to night! + Of all complexions the cull'd 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 wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn, + Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye. + Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born, + And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. + O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine! + KING. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony. + BEROWNE. Is ebony like her? O wood 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. + KING. 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. + BEROWNE. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. + O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt, + It mourns that painting and usurping hair + Should ravish doters with a false aspect; + And therefore is she born to make black fair. + Her favour 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. + DUMAIN. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black. + LONGAVILLE. And since her time are colliers counted bright. + KING. And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack. + DUMAIN. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. + BEROWNE. Your mistresses dare never come in rain + For fear their colours should be wash'd away. + KING. 'Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, + I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day. + BEROWNE. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. + KING. No devil will fright thee then so much as she. + DUMAIN. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. + LONGAVILLE. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see. + [Showing his shoe] + BEROWNE. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, + Her feet were much too dainty for such tread! + DUMAIN. O vile! Then, as she goes, what upward lies + The street should see as she walk'd overhead. + KING. But what of this? Are we not all in love? + BEROWNE. Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn. + KING. Then leave this chat; and, good Berowne, now prove + Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. + DUMAIN. Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil. + LONGAVILLE. O, some authority how to proceed; + Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil! + DUMAIN. Some salve for perjury. + BEROWNE. 'Tis more than need. + Have at you, then, affection's men-at-arms. + Consider what you first did swear unto: + To fast, to study, and to see no woman- + Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth. + Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young, + And abstinence engenders maladies. + And, where that you you have vow'd to study, lords, + In that each of you have forsworn his book, + Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look? + For when would you, my lord, or you, or you, + Have found the ground of study's excellence + Without the beauty of a woman's face? + From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: + They are the ground, the books, the academes, + From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. + Why, universal plodding poisons up + The nimble spirits in the arteries, + As motion and long-during action tires + The sinewy vigour of the traveller. + Now, for not looking on a woman's face, + You have in that forsworn the use of eyes, + And study too, the causer of your vow; + For where is author in the world + Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? + Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, + And where we are our learning likewise is; + Then when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes, + With ourselves. + Do we not likewise see our learning there? + O, we have made a vow to study, lords, + And in that vow we have forsworn our books. + 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 enrich'd you with? + Other slow arts entirely keep the brain; + And therefore, finding barren practisers, + Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil; + But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, + Lives not alone immured 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 stopp'd. + 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 valour, 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 temp'red 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 aught proves excellent. + 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 fulfils the law, + And who can sever love from charity? + KING. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field! + BEROWNE. Advance your standards, and upon them, lords; + Pell-mell, down with them! be first advis'd, + In conflict, that you get the sun of them. + LONGAVILLE. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by. + Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France? + KING. And win them too; therefore let us devise + Some entertainment for them in their tents. + BEROWNE. 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, masks, and merry hours, + Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers. + KING. Away, away! No time shall be omitted + That will betime, and may by us be fitted. + BEROWNE. Allons! allons! Sow'd cockle reap'd 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. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT V. SCENE I. +The park + +Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL + + HOLOFERNES. Satis quod 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 humour is lofty, his + discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, +his + gait majestical and his general behaviour 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. + [Draws 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 'debt'- d, e, b, t, not d, e, +t. + He clepeth a calf 'cauf,' half 'hauf'; neighbour vocatur + 'nebour'; 'neigh' abbreviated 'ne.' This is abhominable- +which he + would call 'abbominable.' 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 + scratch'd; 'twill serve. + + Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD + + NATHANIEL. Videsne quis venit? + HOLOFERNES. Video, et gaudeo. + ARMADO. [To MOTH] Chirrah! + HOLOFERNES. Quare 'chirrah,' not 'sirrah'? + ARMADO. Men of peace, well encount'red. + HOLOFERNES. Most military sir, salutation. + MOTH. [Aside to COSTARD] They have been at a great feast of + languages and stol'n the scraps. + COSTARD. O, they have liv'd long on the alms-basket of words. I + marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou +are + not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus; thou +art + easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. + MOTH. Peace! the peal begins. + ARMADO. [To HOLOFERNES] Monsieur, are you not lett'red? + MOTH. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook. What is a, b, +spelt + backward with the horn on his head? + HOLOFERNES. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. + MOTH. Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning. + HOLOFERNES. Quis, quis, thou consonant? + MOTH. The third of the five vowels, if You repeat them; or the + fifth, if I. + HOLOFERNES. I will repeat them: a, e, i- + MOTH. 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! + MOTH. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old. + HOLOFERNES. What is the figure? What is the figure? + MOTH. Horns. + HOLOFERNES. Thou disputes like an infant; go whip thy gig. + MOTH. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your + infamy circum circa- a gig of a cuckold's horn. + COSTARD. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst +have it + to buy ginger-bread. Hold, there is the very remuneration I +had + of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg +of + discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased that thou wert +but + my bastard, what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to; + thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say. + HOLOFERNES. O, 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 the afternoon. The word is +well + cull'd, 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 ye, 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 importunate 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, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his +royal + finger thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio; but, + sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable: + some certain special honours 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, sweet heart, +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 rend'red 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, Alexander; this gallant + gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great + limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, +Hercules. + ARMADO. 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. + MOTH. 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 offence gracious, though few have the +grace to + do it. + ARMADO. For the rest of the Worthies? + HOLOFERNES. I will play three myself. + MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman! + ARMADO. 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 has 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. + Exeunt + + + + +SCENE II. +The park + +Enter the PRINCESS, MARIA, KATHARINE, and ROSALINE + + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we +depart, + If fairings come thus plentifully in. + A lady wall'd about with diamonds! + Look you what I have from the loving King. + ROSALINE. Madam, came nothing else along with that? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nothing but this! Yes, as much love in +rhyme + As would be cramm'd 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. That was the way to make his godhead wax; + For he hath been five thousand year a boy. + KATHARINE. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too. + ROSALINE. You'll ne'er be friends with him: 'a kill'd your +sister. + KATHARINE. 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 'a been a grandam ere she died. + And so may you; for a light heart lives long. + ROSALINE. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word? + KATHARINE. A light condition in a beauty dark. + ROSALINE. We need more light to find your meaning out. + KATHARINE. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; + Therefore I'll darkly end the argument. + ROSALINE. Look what you do, you do it still i' th' dark. + KATHARINE. So do not you; for you are a light wench. + ROSALINE. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light. + KATHARINE. You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me. + ROSALINE. Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.' + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Well bandied both; a set of wit well +play'd. + But, Rosaline, you have a favour too? + Who sent it? and what is it? + ROSALINE. I would you knew. + An if my face were but as fair as yours, + My favour were as great: be witness this. + 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 compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. + O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter! + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Anything like? + ROSALINE. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Beauteous as ink- a good conclusion. + KATHARINE. Fair as a text B in a copy-book. + ROSALINE. 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! + KATHARINE. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows! + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from +fair + Dumain? + KATHARINE. Madam, this glove. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Did he not send you twain? + KATHARINE. Yes, madam; and, moreover, + Some thousand verses of a faithful lover; + A huge translation of hypocrisy, + Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity. + MARIA. This, and these pearl, to me sent Longaville; + The letter is too long by half a mile. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in +heart + The chain were longer and the letter short? + MARIA. Ay, or I would these hands might never part. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. + ROSALINE. 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 pertaunt-like would I o'ersway his state + That he should be my fool, and I his fate. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. None are so surely caught, when they are + catch'd, + As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd, + Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school, + And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. + ROSALINE. The blood of youth burns not with such excess + As gravity's revolt to wantonness. + MARIA. 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. + + Enter BOYET + + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. + BOYET. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her Grace? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thy news, Boyet? + BOYET. Prepare, madam, prepare! + Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are + Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd, + Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd. + Muster your wits; stand in your own defence; + Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are they + That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say. + BOYET. Under the cool shade of a sycamore + I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour; + When, lo, to interrupt my purpos'd rest, + Toward that shade I might behold addrest + The King and his companions; warily + I stole into a neighbour thicket by, + And overheard what you shall overhear- + That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here. + Their herald is a pretty knavish page, + That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage. + 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 fear'd her had she been a devil.' + With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder, + Making the bold wag by their praises bolder. + One rubb'd his elbow, thus, and fleer'd, 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 caper'd, and cried 'All goes well.' + The fourth turn'd 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. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But what, but what, come they to visit us? + BOYET. They do, they do, and are apparell'd thus, + Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess. + Their purpose is to parley, court, and dance; + And every one his love-feat will advance + Unto his several mistress; which they'll know + By favours several which they did bestow. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And will they so? The gallants shall be +task'd, + For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd; + And not a man of them shall have the grace, + Despite of suit, to see a lady's face. + Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear, + 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. + And change you favours too; so shall your loves + Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes. + ROSALINE. Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight. + KATHARINE. But, in this changing, what is your intent? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs. + They do it but in mocking merriment, + And mock for mock is only my intent. + Their several counsels they unbosom shall + To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal + Upon the next occasion that we meet + With visages display'd to talk and greet. + ROSALINE. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, to the death, we will not move a foot, + Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; + But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face. + BOYET. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart, + And quite divorce his memory from his part. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 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 mock'd depart away with shame. + [Trumpet sounds within] + BOYET. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd; the maskers come. + [The LADIES mask] + + Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the + KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians + + MOTH. All hail, the richest heauties on the earth! + BOYET. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta. + MOTH. A holy parcel of the fairest dames + [The LADIES turn their backs to him] + That ever turn'd their- backs- to mortal views! + BEROWNE. Their eyes, villain, their eyes. + MOTH. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views! + Out- + BOYET. True; out indeed. + MOTH. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe + Not to behold- + BEROWNE. Once to behold, rogue. + MOTH. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes- with your + sun-beamed eyes- + BOYET. They will not answer to that epithet; + You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.' + MOTH. They do not mark me, and that brings me out. + BEROWNE. Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue. + Exit MOTH + ROSALINE. What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet. + 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? + BEROWNE. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. + ROSALINE. What would they, say they? + BOYET. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. + ROSALINE. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone. + BOYET. She says you have it, and you may be gone. + KING. Say to her we have measur'd many miles + To tread a measure with her on this grass. + BOYET. They say that they have measur'd many a mile + To tread a measure with you on this grass. + ROSALINE. 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. + BOYET. If to come hither you have measur'd miles, + And many miles, the Princess bids you tell + How many inches doth fill up one mile. + BEROWNE. Tell her we measure them by weary steps. + BOYET. She hears herself. + ROSALINE. How many weary steps + Of many weary miles you have o'ergone + Are numb'red in the travel of one mile? + BEROWNE. We number nothing that we spend for you; + Our duty is so rich, so infinite, + That we may do it still without accompt. + Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face, + That we, like savages, may worship it. + ROSALINE. My face is but a moon, and clouded too. + KING. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do. + Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine, + Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne. + ROSALINE. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter; + Thou now requests but moonshine in the water. + KING. Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change. + Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange. + ROSALINE. Play, music, then. Nay, you must do it soon. + Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon. + KING. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? + ROSALINE. You took the moon at full; but now she's changed. + KING. Yet still she is the Moon, and I the Man. + The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it. + ROSALINE. Our ears vouchsafe it. + KING. But your legs should do it. + ROSALINE. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance, + We'll not be nice; take hands. We will not dance. + KING. Why take we hands then? + ROSALINE. Only to part friends. + Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends. + KING. More measure of this measure; be not nice. + ROSALINE. We can afford no more at such a price. + KING. Price you yourselves. What buys your company? + ROSALINE. Your absence only. + KING. That can never be. + ROSALINE. Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu- + Twice to your visor and half once to you. + KING. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. + ROSALINE. In private then. + KING. I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart] + BEROWNE. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three. + BEROWNE. Nay, then, two treys, an if you grow so nice, + Metheglin, wort, and malmsey; well run dice! + There's half a dozen sweets. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Seventh sweet, adieu! + Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. + BEROWNE. One word in secret. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Let it not be sweet. + BEROWNE. Thou grievest my gall. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Gall! bitter. + BEROWNE. Therefore meet. [They converse apart] + DUMAIN. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? + MARIA. Name it. + DUMAIN. Fair lady- + MARIA. Say you so? Fair lord- + Take that for your fair lady. + DUMAIN. Please it you, + As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. + [They converse apart] + KATHARINE. What, was your vizard made without a tongue? + LONGAVILLE. I know the reason, lady, why you ask. + KATHARINE. O for your reason! Quickly, sir; I long. + LONGAVILLE. You have a double tongue within your mask, + And would afford my speechless vizard half. + KATHARINE. 'Veal' quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf? + LONGAVILLE. A calf, fair lady! + KATHARINE. No, a fair lord calf. + LONGAVILLE. Let's part the word. + KATHARINE. No, I'll not be your half. + Take all and wean it; it may prove an ox. + LONGAVILLE. Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks! + Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so. + KATHARINE. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow. + LONGAVILLE. One word in private with you ere I die. + KATHARINE. Bleat softly, then; the butcher hears you cry. + [They converse apart] + BOYET. 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. + ROSALINE. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off. + BEROWNE. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! + KING. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits. + Exeunt KING, LORDS, and BLACKAMOORS + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits. + Are these the breed of wits so wondered at? + BOYET. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out. + ROSALINE. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! + Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night? + Or ever but in vizards show their faces? + This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite. + ROSALINE. They were all in lamentable cases! + The King was weeping-ripe for a good word. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Berowne did swear himself out of all suit. + MARIA. Dumain was at my service, and his sword. + 'No point' quoth I; my servant straight was mute. + KATHARINE. Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart; + And trow you what he call'd me? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Qualm, perhaps. + KATHARINE. Yes, in good faith. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Go, sickness as thou art! + ROSALINE. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. + But will you hear? The King is my love sworn. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to +me. + KATHARINE. And Longaville was for my service born. + MARIA. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree. + BOYET. 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. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Will they return? + BOYET. They will, they will, God knows, + And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows; + Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair, + Blow like sweet roses in this summer air. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. How blow? how blow? Speak to be understood. + BOYET. Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud: + Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, + Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do + If they return in their own shapes to woo? + ROSALINE. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd, + Let's mock them still, as well known as disguis'd. + Let us complain to them what fools were here, + Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear; + And wonder what they were, and to what end + Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd, + And their rough carriage so ridiculous, + Should be presented at our tent to us. + BOYET. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land. + Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA + + Re-enter the KING, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, + in their proper habits + + KING. Fair sir, God save you! Where's the Princess? + BOYET. Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty + Command me any service to her thither? + KING. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. + BOYET. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. Exit + BEROWNE. This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease, + And utters it again when God doth please. + He is wit's pedlar, 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. + 'A can carve too, and lisp; why this is he + That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy; + This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice, + That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice + In honourable 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 flow'r that smiles on every one, + To show his teeth as white as whales-bone; + And consciences that will not die in debt + Pay him the due of 'honey-tongued Boyet.' + KING. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, + That put Armado's page out of his part! + + Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE, + MARIA, and KATHARINE + + BEROWNE. See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou + Till this man show'd thee? And what art thou now? + KING. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day! + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I +conceive. + KING. Construe my speeches better, if you may. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Then wish me better; I will give you leave. + KING. We came to visit you, and purpose now + To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. This field shall hold me, and so hold your +vow: + Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men. + KING. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke. + The virtue of your eye must break my oath. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. You nickname virtue: vice you should have + spoke; + For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. + Now by my maiden honour, 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. + KING. O, you have liv'd in desolation here, + Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 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. How, madam! Russians! + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Ay, in truth, my lord; + Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. + ROSALINE. 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 talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord, + 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. + BEROWNE. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet, + Your wit 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. + ROSALINE. This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye- + BEROWNE. I am a fool, and full of poverty. + ROSALINE. But that you take what doth to you belong, + It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. + BEROWNE. O, I am yours, and all that I possess. + ROSALINE. All the fool mine? + BEROWNE. I cannot give you less. + ROSALINE. Which of the vizards was it that you wore? + BEROWNE. Where? when? what vizard? Why demand you this? + ROSALINE. There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case + That hid the worse and show'd the better face. + KING. We were descried; they'll mock us now downright. + DUMAIN. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your Highness +sad? + ROSALINE. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale? + Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy. + BEROWNE. 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 never more to dance, + Nor never more in Russian habit wait. + O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd, + Nor to the motion of a school-boy'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-pil'd 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 express'd + 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. + ROSALINE. Sans 'sans,' I pray you. + BEROWNE. 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. + These lords are visited; you are not free, + For the Lord's tokens on you do I see. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, they are free that gave these tokens to +us. + BEROWNE. Our states are forfeit; seek not to undo us. + ROSALINE. It is not so; for how can this be true, + That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? + BEROWNE. Peace; for I will not have to do with you. + ROSALINE. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend. + BEROWNE. Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end. + KING. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression + Some fair excuse. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The fairest is confession. + Were not you here but even now, disguis'd? + KING. Madam, I was. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And were you well advis'd? + KING. I was, fair madam. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. When you then were here, + What did you whisper in your lady's ear? + KING. That more than all the world I did respect her. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. When she shall challenge this, you will +reject + her. + KING. Upon mine honour, no. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Peace, peace, forbear; + Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. + KING. Despise me when I break this oath of mine. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I will; and therefore keep it. Rosaline, + What did the Russian whisper in your ear? + ROSALINE. 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 OF FRANCE. God give thee joy of him! The noble lord + Most honourably doth uphold his word. + KING. What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth, + I never swore this lady such an oath. + ROSALINE. By heaven, you did; and, to confirm it plain, + You gave me this; but take it, sir, again. + KING. My faith and this the Princess I did give; + I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; + And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear. + What, will you have me, or your pearl again? + BEROWNE. 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, + That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick + To make my lady laugh when she's dispos'd, + Told our intents before; which once disclos'd, + The ladies did change favours; and then we, + Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she. + Now, to our perjury to add more terror, + We are again forsworn in will and error. + Much upon this it is; [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 allow'd; + 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. + BEROWNE. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done. + + Enter COSTARD + + 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. What, are there but three? + COSTARD. No, sir; but it is vara fine, + For every one pursents three. + BEROWNE. And three times thrice is nine. + COSTARD. Not so, sir; under correction, sir, + I hope it is not so. + 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. + BEROWNE. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. + COSTARD. O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living +by + reck'ning, 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. + COSTARD. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some +care. + Exit COSTARD + KING. Berowne, they will shame us; let them not approach. + BEROWNE. 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 OF FRANCE. Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now. + That sport best pleases that doth least know how; + 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 labouring perish in their birth. + BEROWNE. A right description of our sport, my lord. + + Enter ARMADO + + ARMADO. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet + breath as will utter a brace of words. + [Converses apart with the KING, and delivers a paper] + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Doth this man serve God? + BEROWNE. Why ask you? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'A speaks not like a man of God his making. + ARMADO. 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! + Exit ARMADO + KING. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He +presents + Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish +curate, + Alexander; Arinado'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. + KING. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. + + Enter COSTARD, armed for POMPEY + + COSTARD. I Pompey am- + BEROWNE. You lie, you are not he. + COSTARD. I Pompey am- + BOYET. With libbard's head on knee. + BEROWNE. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with +thee. + COSTARD. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big- + DUMAIN. The Great. + COSTARD. It is Great, sir. + Pompey surnam'd the Great, + That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to + sweat; + And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance, + And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France. + + If your ladyship would say 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Great thanks, great Pompey. + 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. + + Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for ALEXANDER + + NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's +commander; + By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering +might. + My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander- + BOYET. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands to right. + + BEROWNE. Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling + knight. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good + Alexander. + NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's +commander- + BOYET. Most true, 'tis right, you were so, Alisander. + BEROWNE. Pompey the Great! + COSTARD. Your servant, and Costard. + BEROWNE. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander. + COSTARD. [To Sir Nathaniel] O, Sir, you have overthrown +Alisander + the conqueror! You will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth +for + this. Your lion, that holds his poleaxe 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. + [Sir Nathaniel retires] There, an't shall please you, a +foolish + mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd. He is a + marvellous good neighbour, 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. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Stand aside, good Pompey. + + Enter HOLOFERNES, for JUDAS; and MOTH, for HERCULES + + HOLOFERNES. Great Hercules is presented by this imp, + Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus; + And when be 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. + Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. [MOTH retires] + Judas I am- + DUMAIN. A Judas! + HOLOFERNES. Not Iscariot, sir. + Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus. + DUMAIN. Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas. + BEROWNE. A kissing traitor. How art thou prov'd Judas? + HOLOFERNES. Judas I am- + DUMAIN. 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? + BOYET. A cittern-head. + DUMAIN. 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. + DUMAIN. The carv'd-bone face on a flask. + BEROWNE. Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch. + DUMAIN. 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 outfac'd them all. + BEROWNE. An thou wert a lion we would do so. + BOYET. Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go. + And so adieu, sweet Jude! Nay, why dost thou stay? + DUMAIN. For the latter end of his name. + BEROWNE. For the ass to the Jude; give it him- Jud-as, away. + HOLOFERNES. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. + BOYET. A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark, he may +stumble. + [HOLOFERNES retires] + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been +baited! + + Enter ARMADO, for HECTOR + + BEROWNE. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms. + DUMAIN. 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? + DUMAIN. I think Hector was not so clean-timber'd. + LONGAVILLE. His leg is too big for Hector's. + DUMAIN. More calf, certain. + BOYET. No; he is best indued in the small. + BEROWNE. This cannot be Hector. + DUMAIN. He's a god or a painter, for he makes faces. + ARMADO. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, + Gave Hector a gift- + DUMAIN. A gilt nutmeg. + BEROWNE. A lemon. + LONGAVILLE. Stuck with cloves. + DUMAIN. 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 ye, + From morn till night out of his pavilion. + I am that flower- + DUMAIN. 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. + DUMAIN. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. + ARMADO. The sweet war-man 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 the PRINCESS] Sweet +royalty, + bestow on me the sense of hearing. + + [BEROWNE steps forth, and speaks to COSTARD] + + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted. + ARMADO. I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper. + BOYET. [Aside to DUMAIN] Loves her by the foot. + DUMAIN. [Aside to BOYET] He may not by the yard. + ARMADO. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal- + COSTARD. The party is gone, 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 whipt for Jaquenetta that is +quick by + him, and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him. + DUMAIN. Most rare Pompey! + BOYET. Renowned Pompey! + BEROWNE. Greater than Great! Great, great, great Pompey! Pompey +the + Huge! + DUMAIN. Hector trembles. + BEROWNE. Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir them on! +stir + them on! + DUMAIN. Hector will challenge him. + BEROWNE. Ay, if 'a have no more man's blood in his belly than +will + sup a flea. + ARMADO. 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. + DUMAIN. Room for the incensed Worthies! + COSTARD. I'll do it in my shirt. + DUMAIN. Most resolute Pompey! + MOTH. 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. + DUMAIN. 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 'a wears next his heart for a favour. + + Enter as messenger, MONSIEUR MARCADE + + MARCADE. God save you, madam! + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Welcome, Marcade; + But that thou interruptest our merriment. + MARCADE. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring + Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father- + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Dead, for my life! + MARCADE. Even so; my tale is told. + BEROWNE. 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. Exeunt WORTHIES + KING. How fares your Majesty? + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. + KING. Madam, not so; I do beseech you stay. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious +lords, + For all your fair endeavours, and entreat, + Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe + In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide + The liberal opposition of our spirits, + If over-boldly we have borne ourselves + In the converse of breath- your gentleness + Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord. + A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue. + Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks + For my great suit so easily obtain'd. + KING. 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 justle it + From what it purpos'd; since to wail friends lost + Is not by much so wholesome-profitable + As to rejoice at friends but newly found. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I understand you not; my griefs are double. + BEROWNE. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief; + And by these badges understand the King. + For your fair sakes have we neglected time, + Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies, + Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours + Even to the opposed end of our intents; + And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous, + As love is full of unbefitting strains, + All wanton as a child, skipping and vain; + Form'd 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 + To every varied object in his glance; + Which parti-coated presence of loose love + Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes + Have misbecom'd 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 for ever 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. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We have receiv'd your letters, full of +love; + Your favours, 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. + DUMAIN. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest. + LONGAVILLE. So did our looks. + ROSALINE. We did not quote them so. + KING. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, + Grant us your loves. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. A time, methinks, too short + To make a world-without-end bargain in. + No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjur'd 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 + 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; + And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine, + I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut + My woeful self up in a mournful house, + Raining the tears of lamentation + For the remembrance of my father's death. + If this thou do deny, let our hands part, + Neither intitled in the other's heart. + KING. 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. + BEROWNE. And what to me, my love? and what to me? + ROSALINE. You must he purged too, your sins are rack'd; + You are attaint with faults and perjury; + Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, + A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, + But seek the weary beds of people sick. + DUMAIN. But what to me, my love? but what to me? + A wife? + KATHARINE. A beard, fair health, and honesty; + With threefold love I wish you all these three. + DUMAIN. O, shall I say I thank you, gentle wife? + KATHARINE. No so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day + I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say. + Come when the King doth to my lady come; + Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some. + DUMAIN. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. + KATHARINE. Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again. + LONGAVILLE. What says Maria? + MARIA. At the twelvemonth's end + I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. + LONGAVILLE. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long. + MARIA. The liker you; few taller are so young. + BEROWNE. 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. + ROSALINE. 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 endeavour of your wit, + To enforce the pained impotent to smile. + BEROWNE. To move wild laughter in the throat of death? + It cannot be; it is impossible; + Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. + ROSALINE. 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, + Deaf'd with the clamours 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. + BEROWNE. A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall, + I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. [To the King] Ay, sweet my lord, and so I +take + my leave. + KING. No, madam; we will bring you on your way. + BEROWNE. 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. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth an' a day, + And then 'twill end. + BEROWNE. That's too long for a play. + + Re-enter ARMADO + + ARMADO. Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me- + PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Was not that not Hector? + DUMAIN. The worthy knight of Troy. + ARMADO. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a + votary: I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the plough 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. + + [Enter All] + + This side is Hiems, Winter; this Ver, the Spring- the one + maintained by the Owl, th' other by the Cuckoo. Ver, begin. + + SPRING + 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 ploughmen'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; + Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear, + Unpleasing to a married ear! + + + WINTER + + 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 nipp'd, and ways be foul, + Then nightly sings the staring owl: + 'Tu-who; + Tu-whit, Tu-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-who; + Tu-whit, To-who'- A merry note, + While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. + + ARMADO. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of +Apollo. + You that way: we this way. Exeunt + +THE END + + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +End of this Etext of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare +Love's Labour's Lost diff --git a/1774.zip b/1774.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5026ba --- /dev/null +++ b/1774.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6110e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1774 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1774) |