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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Love's Labour's Lost

November, 1997

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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.

SCENE: Navarre

Enter the King, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN

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. '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. '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. '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

Enter ARMADO and MOTH, his page

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

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.

Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BEROWNE, and ATTENDANTS

Enter ARMADO and MOTH

Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD

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. 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

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: 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

'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,

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. 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. '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. 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

Enter BEROWNE, with a paper his band, alone

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. '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?

Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper

What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, car. 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. '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

Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD

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. 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

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

Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians

Re-enter the KING, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in their proper habits

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