Part 1 out of 2
Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't. This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.
The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
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you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
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then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
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Loues Labour's lost
Enter Ferdinand King of Nauarre, Berowne, Longauill, and
Ferdinand. Let Fame, that all hunt after in their liues,
Liue registred vpon our brazen Tombes,
And then grace vs in the disgrace of death:
when spight of cormorant deuouring Time,
Th' endeuour of this present breath may buy:
That honour which shall bate his sythes keene edge,
And make vs heyres of all eternitie.
Therefore braue Conquerours, for so you are,
That warre against your owne affections,
And the huge Armie of the worlds desires.
Our late edict shall strongly stand in force,
Nauar shall be the wonder of the world.
Our Court shall be a little Achademe,
Still and contemplatiue in liuing Art.
You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longauill,
Haue sworne for three yeeres terme, to liue with me:
My fellow Schollers, and to keepe those statutes
That are recorded in this scedule heere.
Your oathes are past, and now subscribe your names:
That his owne hand may strike his honour downe,
That violates the smallest branch heerein:
If you are arm'd to doe, as sworne to do,
Subscribe to your deepe oathes, and keepe it to
Longauill. I am resolu'd, 'tis but a three yeeres fast:
The minde shall banquet, though the body pine,
Fat paunches haue leane pates: and dainty bits,
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits
Dumane. My louing Lord, Dumane is mortified,
The grosser manner of these worlds delights,
He throwes vpon the grosse worlds baser slaues:
To loue, to wealth, to pompe, I pine and die,
With all these liuing in Philosophie
Berowne. I can but say their protestation ouer,
So much, deare Liege, I haue already sworne,
That is, to liue and study heere three yeeres.
But there are other strict obseruances:
As not to see a woman in that terme,
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
And one day in a weeke to touch no foode:
And but one meale on euery day beside:
The which I hope is not enrolled there.
And then to sleepe but three houres in the night,
And not be seene to winke of all the day.
When I was wont to thinke no harme all night,
And make a darke night too of halfe the day:
Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
O, these are barren taskes, too hard to keepe,
Not to see Ladies, study, fast, not sleepe
Ferd. Your oath is past, to passe away from these
Berow. Let me say no my Liedge, and if you please,
I onely swore to study with your grace,
And stay heere in your Court for three yeeres space
Longa. You swore to that Berowne, and to the rest
Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest.
What is the end of study, let me know?
Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not
Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) fro[m] co[m]mon sense
Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence
Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so,
To know the thing I am forbid to know:
As thus, to study where I well may dine,
When I to fast expressely am forbid.
Or studie where to meete some Mistresse fine,
When Mistresses from common sense are hid.
Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath,
Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth.
If studies gaine be thus, and this be so,
Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know,
Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no
Ferd. These be the stops that hinder studie quite,
And traine our intellects to vaine delight
Ber. Why? all delights are vaine, and that most vaine
Which with paine purchas'd, doth inherit paine,
As painefully to poare vpon a Booke,
To seeke the light of truth, while truth the while
Doth falsely blinde the eye-sight of his looke:
Light seeking light, doth light of light beguile:
So ere you finde where light in darkenesse lies,
Your light growes darke by losing of your eyes.
Studie me how to please the eye indeede,
By fixing it vpon a fairer eye,
Who dazling so, that eye shall be his heed,
And giue him light that it was blinded by.
Studie is like the heauens glorious Sunne,
That will not be deepe search'd with sawcy lookes:
Small haue continuall plodders euer wonne,
Saue base authoritie from others Bookes.
These earthly Godfathers of heauens lights,
That giue a name to euery fixed Starre,
Haue no more profit of their shining nights,
Then those that walke and wot not what they are.
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame:
And euery Godfather can giue a name
Fer. How well hee's read, to reason against reading
Dum. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding
Lon. Hee weedes the corne, and still lets grow the
Ber. The Spring is neare when greene geesse are a
Dum. How followes that?
Ber. Fit in his place and time
Dum. In reason nothing
Ber. Something then in rime
Ferd. Berowne is like an enuious sneaping Frost,
That bites the first borne infants of the Spring
Ber. Wel, say I am, why should proud Summer boast,
Before the Birds haue any cause to sing?
Why should I ioy in any abortiue birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a Rose,
Then wish a Snow in Mayes new fangled showes:
But like of each thing that in season growes.
So you to studie now it is too late,
That were to clymbe ore the house to vnlocke the gate
Fer. Well, sit you out: go home Berowne: adue
Ber. No my good Lord, I haue sworn to stay with you.
And though I haue for barbarisme spoke more,
Then for that Angell knowledge you can say,
Yet confident Ile keepe what I haue sworne,
And bide the pennance of each three yeares day.
Giue me the paper, let me reade the same,
And to the strictest decrees Ile write my name
Fer. How well this yeelding rescues thee from shame
Ber. Item. That no woman shall come within a mile
of my Court.
Hath this bin proclaimed?
Lon. Foure dayes agoe
Ber. Let's see the penaltie.
On paine of loosing her tongue.
Who deuis'd this penaltie?
Lon. Marry that did I
Ber. Sweete Lord, and why?
Lon. To fright them hence with that dread penaltie,
A dangerous law against gentilitie.
Item, If any man be seene to talke with a woman within
the tearme of three yeares, hee shall indure such
publique shame as the rest of the Court shall possibly
Ber. This Article my Liedge your selfe must breake,
For well you know here comes in Embassie
The French Kings daughter, with your selfe to speake:
A Maide of grace and compleate maiestie,
About surrender vp of Aquitaine:
To her decrepit, sicke, and bed-rid Father.
Therefore this Article is made in vaine,
Or vainly comes th' admired Princesse hither
Fer. What say you Lords?
Why, this was quite forgot
Ber. So Studie euermore is ouershot,
While it doth study to haue what it would,
It doth forget to doe the thing it should:
And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
'Tis won as townes with fire, so won, so lost
Fer. We must of force dispence with this Decree,
She must lye here on meere necessitie
Ber. Necessity will make vs all forsworne
Three thousand times within this three yeeres space:
For euery man with his affects is borne,
Not by might mastred, but by speciall grace.
If I breake faith, this word shall breake for me,
I am forsworne on meere necessitie.
So to the Lawes at large I write my name,
And he that breakes them in the least degree,
Stands in attainder of eternall shame.
Suggestions are to others as to me:
But I beleeue although I seeme so loth,
I am the last that will last keepe his oth.
But is there no quicke recreation granted?
Fer. I that there is, our Court you know is hanted
With a refined trauailer of Spaine,
A man in all the worlds new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his braine:
One, who the musicke of his owne vaine tongue,
Doth rauish like inchanting harmonie:
A man of complements whom right and wrong
Haue chose as vmpire of their mutinie.
This childe of fancie that Armado hight,
For interim to our studies shall relate,
In high-borne words the worth of many a Knight:
From tawnie Spaine lost in the worlds debate.
How you delight my Lords, I know not I,
But I protest I loue to heare him lie,
And I will vse him for my Minstrelsie
Bero. Armado is a most illustrious wight,
A man of fire, new words, fashions owne Knight
Lon. Costard the swaine and he, shall be our sport,
And so to studie, three yeeres is but short.
Enter a Constable with Costard with a Letter.
Const. Which is the Dukes owne person
Ber. This fellow, What would'st?
Con. I my selfe reprehend his owne person, for I am
his graces Tharborough: But I would see his own person
in flesh and blood
Ber. This is he
Con. Signeor Arme, Arme commends you:
Ther's villanie abroad, this letter will tell you more
Clow. Sir the Contempts thereof are as touching
Fer. A letter from the magnificent Armado
Ber. How low soeuer the matter, I hope in God for
Lon. A high hope for a low heauen, God grant vs patience
Ber. To heare, or forbeare hearing
Lon. To heare meekely sir, and to laugh moderately,
or to forbeare both
Ber. Well sir, be it as the stile shall giue vs cause to
clime in the merrinesse
Clo. The matter is to me sir, as concerning Iaquenetta.
The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner
Ber. In what manner?
Clo. In manner and forme following sir all those three.
I was seene with her in the Mannor house, sitting with
her vpon the Forme, and taken following her into the
Parke: which put to gether, is in manner and forme
following. Now sir for the manner; It is the manner
of a man to speake to a woman, for the forme in some
Ber. For the following sir
Clo. As it shall follow in my correction, and God defend
Fer. Will you heare this Letter with attention?
Ber. As we would heare an Oracle
Clo. Such is the simplicitie of man to harken after the
Ferdinand. Great Deputie, the Welkins Vicegerent, and sole
of Nauar, my soules earths God, and bodies fostring
Cost. Not a word of Costard yet
Ferd. So it is
Cost. It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is in telling
true: but so
Clow. Be to me, and euery man that dares not fight
Ferd. No words,
Clow. Of other mens secrets I beseech you
Ferd. So it is besieged with sable coloured melancholie, I
did commend the blacke oppressing humour to the most
Physicke of thy health-giuing ayre: And as I am a Gentleman,
betooke my selfe to walke: the time When? about the
sixt houre, When beasts most grase, birds best pecke, and men
sit downe to that nourishment which is called supper: So much
for the time When. Now for the ground Which? which I
meane I walkt vpon, it is ycliped, Thy Parke. Then for the
place Where? where I meane I did encounter that obscene and
most preposterous euent that draweth from my snow-white pen
the ebon coloured Inke, which heere thou viewest, beholdest:
suruayest, 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
Swaine, that base Minow of thy myrth,
Ferd. that vnletered small knowing soule,
Ferd. that shallow
Clow. Still mee?)
Ferd. which as I remember, hight Costard,
Clow. O me)
Ferd. sorted and consorted contrary to thy established
proclaymed Edict and Continent, Cannon: Which
with, o with, but with this I passion to say wherewith:
Clo. With a Wench
Ferd. With a childe of our Grandmother Eue, a female;
or for thy more sweet understanding a woman: him, I (as my
euer esteemed dutie prickes me on) haue sent to thee, to receiue
the meed of punishment by the sweet Graces Officer Anthony
Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, & estimation
Anth. Me, an't shall please you? I am Anthony Dull
Ferd. For Iaquenetta (so is the weaker vessell called)
which I apprehended with the aforesaid Swaine, I keepe her
as a vessell of thy Lawes furie, and shall at the least of thy
sweet notice, bring her to triall. Thine in all complements of
deuoted and heart-burning heat of dutie.
Don Adriana de Armado
Ber. This is not so well as I looked for, but the best
that euer I heard
Fer. I the best, for the worst. But sirra, What say you
Clo. Sir I confesse the Wench
Fer. Did you heare the Proclamation?
Clo. I doe confesse much of the hearing it, but little
of the marking of it
Fer. It was proclaimed a yeeres imprisonment to bee
taken with a Wench
Clow. I was taken with none sir, I was taken with a
Fer. Well, it was proclaimed Damosell
Clo. This was no Damosell neyther sir, shee was a
Fer. It is so varried to, for it was proclaimed Virgin
Clo. If it were, I denie her Virginitie: I was taken
with a Maide
Fer. This Maid will not serue your turne sir
Clo. This Maide will serue my turne sir
Kin. Sir I will pronounce your sentence: You shall
fast a Weeke with Branne and water
Clo. I had rather pray a Moneth with Mutton and
Kin. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
My Lord Berowne, see him deliuer'd ore,
And goe we Lords to put in practice that,
Which each to other hath so strongly sworne
Bero. Ile lay my head to any good mans hat,
These oathes and lawes will proue an idle scorne.
Sirra, come on
Clo. I suffer for the truth sir: for true it is, I was taken
with Iaquenetta, and Iaquenetta is a true girle, and
therefore welcome the sowre cup of prosperitie, affliction
may one day smile againe, and vntill then sit downe
Enter Armado and Moth his Page.
Arma. Boy, What signe is it when a man of great
spirit growes melancholy?
Boy. A great signe sir, that he will looke sad
Brag. Why? sadnesse is one and the selfe-same thing
Boy. No no, O Lord sir no
Brag. How canst thou part sadnesse and melancholy
my tender Iuuenall?
Boy. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my
Brag. Why tough signeur? Why tough signeur?
Boy. Why tender Iuuenall? Why tender Iuuenall?
Brag. I spoke it tender Iuuenall, as a congruent apathaton,
appertaining to thy young daies, which we may
Boy. And I tough signeur, as an appertinent title to
your olde time, which we may name tough
Brag. Pretty and apt
Boy. How meane you sir, I pretty, and my saying apt?
or I apt, and my saying prettie?
Brag. Thou pretty because little
Boy. Little pretty, because little: wherefore apt?
Brag. And therefore apt, because quicke
Boy. Speake you this in my praise Master?
Brag. In thy condigne praise
Boy. I will praise an Eele with the same praise
Brag. What? that an Eele is ingenuous
Boy. That an Eele is quicke
Brag. I doe say thou art quicke in answeres. Thou
heat'st my bloud
Boy. I am answer'd sir
Brag. I loue not to be crost
Boy. He speakes the meere contrary, crosses loue not him
Br. I haue promis'd to study iij. yeres with the Duke
Boy. You may doe it in an houre sir
Boy. How many is one thrice told?
Bra. I am ill at reckning, it fits the spirit of a Tapster
Boy. You are a gentleman and a gamester sir
Brag. I confesse both, they are both the varnish of a
Boy. Then I am sure you know how much the grosse
summe of deus-ace amounts to
Brag. It doth amount to one more then two
Boy. Which the base vulgar call three
Boy. Why sir is this such a peece of study?
Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink, & how
easie it is to put yeres to the word three, and study three
yeeres in two words, the dancing horse will tell you
Brag. A most fine Figure
Boy. To proue you a Cypher
Brag. I will heereupon confesse I am in loue: and as
it is base for a Souldier to loue; so am I in loue with a
base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
of affection, would deliuer mee from the reprobate
thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransome
him to any French Courtier for a new deuis'd curtsie. I
thinke scorne to sigh, me thinkes I should out-sweare
Cupid. Comfort me Boy, What great men haue beene
Boy. Hercules Master
Brag. Most sweete Hercules: more authority deare
Boy, name more; and sweet my childe let them be men
of good repute and carriage
Boy. Sampson Master, he was a man of good carriage,
great carriage: for hee carried the Towne-gates on his
backe like a Porter: and he was in loue
Brag. O well-knit Sampson, strong ioynted Sampson;
I doe excell thee in my rapier, as much as thou didst mee
in carrying gates. I am in loue too. Who was Sampsons
loue my deare Moth?
Boy. A Woman, Master
Brag. Of what complexion?
Boy. Of all the foure, or the three, or the two, or one
of the foure
Brag. Tell me precisely of what complexion?
Boy. Of the sea-water Greene sir
Brag. Is that one of the foure complexions?
Boy. As I haue read sir, and the best of them too
Brag. Greene indeed is the colour of Louers: but to
haue a Loue of that colour, methinkes Sampson had small
reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit
Boy. It was so sir, for she had a greene wit
Brag. My Loue is most immaculate white and red
Boy. Most immaculate thoughts Master, are mask'd
vnder such colours
Brag. Define, define, well educated infant
Boy. My fathers witte, and my mothers tongue assist
Brag. Sweet inuocation of a childe, most pretty and
Boy. If shee be made of white and red,
Her faults will nere be knowne:
For blushin cheekes by faults are bred,
And feares by pale white showne:
Then if she feare, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheekes possesse the same,
Which natiue she doth owe:
A dangerous rime master against the reason of white
Brag. Is there not a ballet Boy, of the King and the
Boy. The world was very guilty of such a Ballet some
three ages since, but I thinke now 'tis not to be found: or
if it were, it would neither serue for the writing, nor the
Brag. I will haue that subiect newly writ ore, that I
may example my digression by some mighty president.
Boy, I doe loue that Countrey girle that I tooke in
the Parke with the rationall hinde Costard: she deserues
Boy. To bee whip'd: and yet a better loue then my
Brag. Sing Boy, my spirit grows heauy in loue
Boy. And that's great maruell, louing a light wench
Brag. I say sing
Boy. Forbeare till this company be past.
Enter Clowne, Constable, and Wench.
Const. Sir, the Dukes pleasure, is that you keepe Costard
safe, and you must let him take no delight, nor no
penance, but hee must fast three daies a weeke: for this
Damsell, I must keepe her at the Parke, shee is alowd for
the Day-woman. Fare you well.
Brag. I do betray my selfe with blushing: Maide
Brag. I wil visit thee at the Lodge
Maid. That's here by
Brag. I know where it is situate
Mai. Lord how wise you are!
Brag. I will tell thee wonders
Ma. With what face?
Brag. I loue thee
Mai. So I heard you say
Brag. And so farewell
Mai. Faire weather after you
Clo. Come Iaquenetta, away.
Brag. Villaine, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere
thou be pardoned
Clo. Well sir, I hope when I doe it, I shall doe it on a
Brag. Thou shalt be heauily punished
Clo. I am more bound to you then your fellowes, for
they are but lightly rewarded
Clo. Take away this villaine, shut him vp
Boy. Come you transgressing slaue, away
Clow. Let mee not bee pent vp sir, I will fast being
Boy. No sir, that were fast and loose: thou shalt to
Clow. Well, if euer I do see the merry dayes of desolation
that I haue seene, some shall see
Boy. What shall some see?
Clow. Nay nothing, Master Moth, but what they
looke vpon. It is not for prisoners to be silent in their
words, and therefore I will say nothing: I thanke God, I
haue as little patience as another man, and therefore I
can be quiet.
Brag. I doe affect the very ground (which is base)
where her shooe (which is baser) guided by her foote
(which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which
is a great argument of falshood) if I loue. And how can
that be true loue, which is falsly attempted? Loue is a familiar,
Loue is a Diuell. There is no euill Angell but
Loue, yet Sampson was so tempted, and he had an excellent
strength: Yet was Salomon so seduced, and hee had
a very good witte. Cupids Butshaft is too hard for Hercules
Clubbe, and therefore too much ods for a Spaniards
Rapier: The first and second cause will not serue
my turne: the Passado hee respects not, the Duello he
regards not; his disgrace is to be called Boy, but his
glorie is to subdue men. Adue Valour, rust Rapier, bee
still Drum, for your manager is in loue; yea hee loueth.
Assist me some extemporall god of Rime, for I am sure I
shall turne Sonnet. Deuise Wit, write Pen, for I am for
whole volumes in folio.
Finis Actus Primus.
Enter the Princesse of France, with three attending Ladies, and
Boyet. Now Madam summon vp your dearest spirits,
Consider who the King your father sends:
To whom he sends, and what's his Embassie.
Your selfe, held precious in the worlds esteeme,
To parlee with the sole inheritour
Of all perfections that a man may owe,
Matchlesse Nauarre, the plea of no lesse weight
Then Aquitaine, a Dowrie for a Queene,
Be now as prodigall of all deare grace,
As Nature was in making Graces deare,
When she did starue the generall world beside,
And prodigally gaue them all to you
Queen. Good L[ord]. Boyet, my beauty though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by iudgement of the eye,
Not vttred by base sale of chapmens tongues:
I am lesse proud to heare you tell my worth,
Then you much willing to be counted wise,
In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
But now to taske the tasker, good Boyet
Prin. You are not ignorant all-telling fame
Doth noyse abroad Nauar hath made a vow,
Till painefull studie shall out-weare three yeares,
No woman may approach his silent Court:
Therefore to's seemeth it a needfull course,
Before we enter his forbidden gates,
To know his pleasure, and in that behalfe
Bold of your worthinesse, we single you,
As our best mouing faire soliciter:
Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
On serious businesse crauing quicke dispatch,
Importunes personall conference with his grace.
Haste, signifie so much while we attend,
Like humble visag'd suters his high will
Boy. Proud of imployment, willingly I goe.
Prin. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so:
Who are the Votaries my Louing Lords, that are vow-fellowes
with this vertuous Duke?
Lor. Longauill is one
Princ. Know you the man?
1 Lady. I know him Madame at a marriage feast,
Betweene L[ord]. Perigort and the beautious heire
Of Iaques Fauconbridge solemnized.
In Normandie saw I this Longauill,
A man of soueraigne parts he is esteem'd:
Well fitted in Arts, glorious in Armes:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
The onely soyle of his faire vertues glosse,
If vertues glosse will staine with any soile,
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
Prin. Some merry mocking Lord belike, ist so?
Lad.1. They say so most, that most his humors know
Prin. such short liu'd wits do wither as they grow.
Who are the rest?
2.Lad. The yong Dumaine, a well accomplisht youth,
Of all that Vertue loue, for Vertue loued.
Most power to doe most harme, least knowing ill:
For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
And shape to win grace though she had no wit.
I saw him at the Duke Alansoes once,
And much too little of that good I saw,
Is my report to his great worthinesse
Rossa. Another of these Students at that time,
Was there with him, as I haue heard a truth.
Berowne they call him, but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becomming mirth,
I neuer spent an houres talke withall.
His eye begets occasion for his wit,
For euery obiect that the one doth catch,
The other turnes to a mirth-mouing iest.
Which his faire tongue (conceits expositor)
Deliuers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged eares play treuant at his tales,
And yonger hearings are quite rauished.
So sweet and voluble is his discourse
Prin. God blesse my Ladies, are they all in loue?
That euery one her owne hath garnished,
With such bedecking ornaments of praise
Ma. Heere comes Boyet.
Prin. Now, what admittance Lord?
Boyet. Nauar had notice of your faire approach;
And he and his competitors in oath,
Were all addrest to meete you gentle Lady
Before I came: Marrie thus much I haue learnt,
He rather meanes to lodge you in the field,
Like one that comes heere to besiege his Court,
Then seeke a dispensation for his oath:
To let you enter his vnpeopled house.
Enter Nauar, Longauill, Dumaine, and Berowne.
Heere comes Nauar
Nau. Faire Princesse, welcom to the Court of Nauar
Prin. Faire I giue you backe againe, and welcome I
haue not yet: the roofe of this Court is too high to bee
yours, and welcome to the wide fields, too base to be
Nau. You shall be welcome Madam to my Court
Prin. I wil be welcome then, Conduct me thither
Nau. Heare me deare Lady, I haue sworne an oath
Prin. Our Lady helpe my Lord, he'll be forsworne
Nau. Not for the world faire Madam, by my will
Prin. Why, will shall breake it will, and nothing els
Nau. Your Ladiship is ignorant what it is
Prin. Were my Lord so, his ignorance were wise,
Where now his knowledge must proue ignorance.
I heare your grace hath sworne out House-keeping:
'Tis deadly sinne to keepe that oath my Lord,
And sinne to breake it:
But pardon me, I am too sodaine bold,
To teach a Teacher ill beseemeth me.
Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my comming,
And sodainly resolue me in my suite
Nau. Madam, I will, if sodainly I may
Prin. You will the sooner that I were away,
For you'll proue periur'd if you make me stay
Berow. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Rosa. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
Ber. I know you did
Rosa. How needlesse was it then to ask the question?
Ber. You must not be so quicke
Rosa. 'Tis long of you y spur me with such questions
Ber. Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire
Rosa. Not till it leaue the Rider in the mire
Ber. What time a day?
Rosa. The howre that fooles should aske
Ber. Now faire befall your maske
Rosa. Faire fall the face it couers
Ber. And send you many louers
Rosa. Amen, so you be none
Ber. Nay then will I be gone
Kin. Madame, your father heere doth intimate,
The paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
Being but th' one halfe, of an intire summe,
Disbursed by my father in his warres.
But say that he, or we, as neither haue
Receiu'd that summe; yet there remaines vnpaid
A hundred thousand more: in surety of the which,
One part of Aquitaine is bound to vs,
Although not valued to the moneys worth.
If then the King your father will restore
But that one halfe which is vnsatisfied,
We will giue vp our right in Aquitaine,
And hold faire friendship with his Maiestie:
But that it seemes he little purposeth,
For here he doth demand to haue repaie,
An hundred thousand Crownes, and not demands
One paiment of a hundred thousand Crownes,
To haue his title liue in Aquitaine.
Which we much rather had depart withall,
And haue the money by our father lent,
Then Aquitane, so guelded as it is.
Deare Princesse, were not his requests so farre
From reasons yeelding, your faire selfe should make
A yeelding 'gainst some reason in my brest,
And goe well satisfied to France againe
Prin. You doe the King my Father too much wrong,
And wrong the reputation of your name,
In so vnseeming to confesse receyt
Of that which hath so faithfully beene paid
Kin. I doe protest I neuer heard of it,
And if you proue it, Ile repay it backe,
Or yeeld vp Aquitaine
Prin. We arrest your word:
Boyet, you can produce acquittances
For such a summe, from speciall Officers,
Of Charles his Father
Kin. Satisfie me so
Boyet. So please your Grace, the packet is not come
Where that and other specialties are bound,
To morrow you shall haue a sight of them
Kin. It shall suffice me; at which enterview,
All liberall reason would I yeeld vnto:
Meane time, receiue such welcome at my hand,
As honour, without breach of Honour may
Make tender of, to thy true worthinesse.
You may not come faire Princesse in my gates,
But heere without you shall be so receiu'd,
As you shall deeme your selfe lodg'd in my heart,
Though so deni'd farther harbour in my house:
Your owne good thoughts excuse me, and farewell,
To morrow we shall visit you againe
Prin. Sweet health & faire desires consort your grace
Kin. Thy own wish wish I thee, in euery place.
Boy. Lady, I will commend you to my owne heart
La.Ro. Pray you doe my commendations,
I would be glad to see it
Boy. I would you heard it grone
La.Ro. Is the soule sicke?
Boy. Sicke at the heart
La.Ro. Alacke, let it bloud
Boy. Would that doe it good?
La.Ro. My Phisicke saies I
Boy. Will you prick't with your eye
La.Ro. No poynt, with my knife
Boy. Now God saue thy life
La.Ro. And yours from long liuing
Ber. I cannot stay thanks-giuing.
Dum. Sir, I pray you a word: What Lady is that same?
Boy. The heire of Alanson, Rosalin her name
Dum. A gallant Lady, Mounsier fare you well
Long. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
Boy. A woman somtimes, if you saw her in the light
Long. Perchance light in the light: I desire her name
Boy. Shee hath but one for her selfe,
To desire that were a shame
Long. Pray you sir, whose daughter?
Boy. Her Mothers, I haue heard
Long. Gods blessing a your beard
Boy. Good sir be not offended,
Shee is an heyre of Faulconbridge
Long. Nay, my choller is ended:
Shee is a most sweet Lady.
Boy. Not vnlike sir, that may be.
Ber. What's her name in the cap
Boy. Katherine by good hap
Ber. Is she wedded, or no
Boy. To her will sir, or so,
Ber. You are welcome sir, adiew
Boy. Fare well to me sir, and welcome to you.
La.Ma. That last is Beroune, the mery mad-cap Lord.
Not a word with him, but a iest
Boy. And euery iest but a word
Pri. It was well done of you to take him at his word
Boy. I was as willing to grapple, as he was to boord
La.Ma. Two hot Sheepes marie:
And wherefore not Ships?
Boy. No Sheepe (sweet Lamb) vnlesse we feed on your lips
La. You Sheepe & I pasture: shall that finish the iest?
Boy. So you grant pasture for me
La. Not so gentle beast.
My lips are no Common, though seuerall they be
Bo. Belonging to whom?
La. To my fortunes and me
Prin. Good wits wil be iangling, but gentles agree.
This ciuill warre of wits were much better vsed
On Nauar and his bookemen, for heere 'tis abus'd
Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lies
By the hearts still rhetoricke, disclosed with eyes)
Deceiue me not now, Nauar is infected
Prin. With what?
Bo. With that which we Louers intitle affected
Prin. Your reason
Bo. Why all his behauiours doe make their retire,
To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
His hart like an Agot with your print impressed,
Proud with his forme, in his eie pride expressed.
His tongue all impatient to speake and not see,
Did stumble with haste in his eie-sight to be,
All sences to that sence did make their repaire,
To feele onely looking on fairest of faire:
Me thought all his sences were lockt in his eye,
As Iewels in Christall for some Prince to Buy.
Who tendring their own worth from whence they were glast,
Did point out to buy them along as you past.
His faces owne margent did coate such amazes,
That all eyes saw his eies inchanted with gazes.
Ile giue you Aquitaine, and all that is his,
And you giue him for my sake, but one louing Kisse
Prin. Come to our Pauillion, Boyet is disposde
Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath disclos'd.
I onelie haue made a mouth of his eie,
By adding a tongue, which I know will not lie
Lad.Ro. Thou art an old Loue-monger, and speakest
Lad.Ma. He is Cupids Grandfather, and learnes news
Lad.2. Then was Venus like her mother, for her father
is but grim
Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?
Boy. What then, do you see?
Lad.2. I, our way to be gone
Boy. You are too hard for me.
Enter Braggart and Boy.
Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hearing
Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take
this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him festinatly
hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my
Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule?
Bra. How meanest thou, brauling in French?
Boy. No my compleat master, but to Iigge off a tune
at the tongues end, canarie to it with the feete, humour
it with turning vp your eie: sigh a note and sing a note,
sometime through the throate: if you swallowed loue
with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you
snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouselike
ore the shop of your eies, with your armes crost on
your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your
hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting,
and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away:
these are complements, these are humours, these betraie
nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and
make them men of note: do you note men that most are
affected to these?
Brag. How hast thou purchased this experience?
Boy. By my penne of obseruation
Brag. But O, but O
Boy. The Hobbie-horse is forgot
Bra. Cal'st thou my loue Hobbi-horse
Boy. No Master, the Hobbie-horse is but a Colt, and
and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie:
but haue you forgot your Loue?
Brag. Almost I had
Boy. Negligent student, learne her by heart
Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy
Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will
Brag. What wilt thou proue?
Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vpon
the instant: by heart you loue her, because your heart
cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your
heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her,
being out of heart that you cannot enioy her
Brag. I am all these three
Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a
Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be embassadour
for an Asse
Brag. Ha, ha, What saiest thou?
Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse
for he is verie slow gated: but I goe
Brag. The way is but short, away
Boy. As swift as Lead sir
Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a
mettall heauie, dull, and slow?
Boy. Minnime honest Master, or rather Master no
Brag. I say Lead is slow
Boy. You are too swift sir to say so.
Is that Lead slow which is fir'd from a Gunne?
Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike,
He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he:
I shoote thee at the Swaine
Boy. Thump then, and I flee
Bra. A most acute Iuuenall, voluble and free of grace,
By thy fauour sweet Welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
Most rude melancholie, Valour giues thee place.
My Herald is return'd.
Enter Page and Clowne.
Pag. A wonder Master, here's a Costard broken in a
Ar. Some enigma, some riddle, come, thy Lenuoy
Clo. No egma, no riddle, no lenuoy, no salue, in thee
male sir. Or sir, Plantan, a plaine Plantan: no lenuoy, no
lenuoy, no Salue sir, but a Plantan
Ar. By vertue, thou inforcest laughter, thy sillie
thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes
me to rediculous smyling: O pardon me my stars, doth
the inconsiderate take salue for lenuoy, and the word lenuoy
for a salue?
Pag. Doe the wise thinke them other, is not lenuoy a
Ar. No Page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plaine,
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore bin faine.
Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
Were still at oddes, being but three
Arm. Vntill the Goose came out of doore,
Staying the oddes by adding foure
Pag. A good Lenuoy, ending in the Goose: would you
Clo. The Boy hath sold him a bargaine, a Goose, that's flat.
Sir, your penny-worth is good, and your Goose be fat.
To sell a bargaine well is as cunning as fast and loose:
Let me see a fat Lenuoy, I that's a fat Goose
Ar. Come hither, come hither:
How did this argument begin?
Boy. By saying that a Costard was broken in a shin.
Then cal'd you for the Lenuoy
Clow. True, and I for a Plantan:
Thus came your argument in:
Then the Boyes fat Lenuoy, the Goose that you bought,
And he ended the market
Ar. But tell me: How was there a Costard broken in
Pag. I will tell you sencibly
Clow. Thou hast no feeling of it Moth,
I will speake that Lenuoy.
I Costard running out, that was safely within,
Fell ouer the threshold, and broke my shin
Arm. We will talke no more of this matter
Clow. Till there be more matter in the shin
Arm. Sirra Costard, I will infranchise thee
Clow. O, marrie me to one Francis, I smell some Lenuoy,
some Goose in this
Arm. By my sweete soule, I meane, setting thee at libertie.
Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured,
restrained, captiuated, bound
Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation,
and let me loose
Arm. I giue thee thy libertie, set thee from durance,
and in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:
Beare this significant to the countrey Maide Iaquenetta:
there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honours
is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow
Pag. Like the sequell I.
Signeur Costard adew.
Clow. My sweete ounce of mans flesh, my inconie
Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration.
Remuneration, O, that's the Latine word for three-farthings:
Three-farthings remuneration, What's the price
of this yncle? i.d. no, Ile giue you a remuneration: Why?
It carries it remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
a French-Crowne. I will neuer buy and sell out of this
Ber. O my good knaue Costard, exceedingly well met
Clow. Pray you sir, How much Carnation Ribbon
may a man buy for a remuneration?
Ber. What is a remuneration?
Cost. Marrie sir, halfe pennie farthing
Ber. O, Why then threefarthings worth of Silke
Cost. I thanke your worship, God be wy you
Ber. O stay slaue, I must employ thee:
As thou wilt win my fauour, good my knaue,
Doe one thing for me that I shall intreate
Clow. When would you haue it done sir?
Ber. O this after-noone
Clo. Well, I will doe it sir: Fare you well
Ber. O thou knowest not what it is
Clo. I shall know sir, when I haue done it
Ber. Why villaine thou must know first
Clo. I wil come to your worship to morrow morning
Ber. It must be done this after-noone,
Harke slaue, it is but this:
The Princesse comes to hunt here in the Parke,
And in her traine there is a gentle Ladie:
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her, aske for her:
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-vp counsaile. Ther's thy guerdon: goe
Clo. Gardon, O sweete gardon, better then remuneration,
a leuenpence-farthing better: most sweete gardon.
I will doe it sir in print: gardon, remuneration.
Ber. O, and I forsooth in loue,
I that haue beene loues whip?
A verie Beadle to a humerous sigh: A Criticke,
Nay, a night-watch Constable.
A domineering pedant ore the Boy,
Then whom no mortall so magnificent,
This wimpled, whyning, purblinde waiward Boy,
This signior Iunios gyant dwarfe, don Cupid,
Regent of Loue-rimes, Lord of folded armes,
Th' annointed soueraigne of sighes and groanes:
Liedge of all loyterers and malecontents:
Dread Prince of Placcats, King of Codpeeces.
Sole Emperator and great generall
Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)
And I to be a Corporall of his field,
And weare his colours like a Tumblers hoope.
What? I loue, I sue, I seeke a wife,
A woman that is like a Germane Cloake,
Still a repairing: euer out of frame,
And neuer going a right, being a Watch:
But being watcht, that it may still goe right.
Nay, to be periurde, which is worst of all:
And among three, to loue the worst of all,
A whitly wanton, with a veluet brow.
With two pitch bals stucke in her face for eyes.
I, and by heauen, one that will doe the deede,
Though Argus were her Eunuch and her garde.
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 dreadfull little might.
Well, I will loue, write, sigh, pray, shue, grone,
Some men must loue my Lady, and some Ione.
Enter the Princesse, a Forrester, her Ladies, and her Lords.
Qu. Was that the King that spurd his horse so hard,
Against the steepe vprising of the hill?
Boy. I know not, but I thinke it was not he
Qu. Who ere a was, a shew'd a mounting minde:
Well Lords, to day we shall haue our dispatch,
On Saterday we will returne to France.
Then Forrester my friend, Where is the Bush
That we must stand and play the murtherer in?
For. Hereby vpon the edge of yonder Coppice,
A stand where you may make the fairest shoote
Qu. I thanke my beautie, I am faire that shoote,
And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoote
For. Pardon me Madam, for I meant not so
Qu. What, what? First praise me, & then again say no.
O short liu'd pride. Not faire? alacke for woe
For. Yes Madam faire
Qu. Nay, neuer paint me now,
Where faire is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here (good my glasse) take this for telling true:
Faire paiment for foule words, is more then due
For. Nothing but faire is that which you inherit
Qu. See, see, my beautie will be sau'd by merit.
O heresie in faire, fit for these dayes,
A giuing hand, though foule, shall haue faire praise.
But come, the Bow: Now Mercie goes to kill,
And shooting well, is then accounted ill:
Thus will I saue my credit in the shoote,
Not wounding, pittie would not let me do't:
If wounding, then it was to shew my skill,
That more for praise, then purpose meant to kill.
And out of question, so it is sometimes:
Glory growes guiltie of detested crimes,
When for Fames sake, for praise an outward part,
We bend to that, the working of the hart.
As I for praise alone now seeke to spill
The poore Deeres blood, that my heart meanes no ill
Boy. Do not curst wiues hold that selfe-soueraigntie
Onely for praise sake, when they striue to be
Lords ore their Lords?
Qu. Onely for praise, and praise we may afford,
To any Lady that subdewes a Lord.
Boy. Here comes a member of the common-wealth
Clo. God dig-you-den all, pray you which is the head
Qu. Thou shalt know her fellow, by the rest that haue
Clo. Which is the greatest Lady, the highest?
Qu. The thickest, and the tallest
Clo. The thickest, & the tallest: it is so, truth is truth.
And your waste Mistris, were as slender as my wit,
One a these Maides girdles for your waste should be fit.
Are not you the chiefe woma[n]? You are the thickest here?
Qu. What's your will sir? What's your will?
Clo. I haue a Letter from Monsier Berowne,
To one Lady Rosaline
Qu. O thy letter, thy letter: He's a good friend of mine.
Stand a side good bearer.
Boyet, you can carue,
Breake vp this Capon
Boyet. I am bound to serue.
This Letter is mistooke: it importeth none here:
It is writ to Iaquenetta
Qu. We will read it, I sweare.
Breake the necke of the Waxe, and euery one giue eare
Boyet reades. By heauen, that thou art faire, is most infallible:
that thou art beauteous, truth it selfe that thou art
louely: more fairer then faire, beautifull then beautious,
truer then truth it selfe: haue comiseration on thy heroicall
Vassall. The magnanimous and most illustrate King
Cophetua set eie vpon the pernicious and indubitate Begger
Zenelophon: and he it was that might rightly say, Veni,
vidi, vici: Which to annothanize in the vulgar, O
base and obscure vulgar; videliset, He came, See, and ouercame:
hee came one; see, two; ouercame three:
Who came? the King. Why did he come? to see. Why
did he see? to ouercome. To whom came he? to the
Begger. What saw he? the Begger. Who ouercame
he? the Begger. The conclusion is victorie: On whose
side? the King: the captiue is inricht: On whose side?
the Beggers. The catastrophe is a Nuptiall: on whose
side? the Kings: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am
the King (for so stands the comparison) thou the Begger,
for so witnesseth thy lowlinesse. Shall I command
thy loue? I may. Shall I enforce thy loue? I could.
Shall I entreate thy loue? I will. What, shalt thou exchange
for ragges, roabes: for tittles titles, for thy selfe
mee. Thus expecting thy reply, I prophane my lips on
thy foote, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy
Thine in the dearest designe of industrie,
Don Adriana de Armatho.
Thus dost thou heare the Nemean Lion roare,
Gainst thee thou Lambe, that standest as his pray:
Submissiue fall his princely feete before,
And he from forrage will incline to play.
But if thou striue (poore soule) what art thou then?
Foode for his rage, repasture for his den
Qu. What plume of feathers is hee that indited this
Letter? What veine? What Wethercocke? Did you
euer heare better?
Boy. I am much deceiued, but I remember the stile
Qu. Else your memorie is bad, going ore it erewhile
Boy. This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court
A Phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
To the Prince and his Booke-mates
Qu. Thou fellow, a word.
Who gaue thee this Letter?
Clow. I told you, my Lord
Qu. To whom should'st thou giue it?
Clo. From my Lord to my Lady
Qu. From which Lord, to which Lady?
Clo. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
To a Lady of France, that he call'd Rosaline
Qu. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come Lords away.
Here sweete, put vp this, 'twill be thine another day.
Boy. Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter?
Rosa. Shall I teach you to know
Boy. I my continent of beautie
Rosa. Why she that beares the Bow. Finely put off
Boy. My Lady goes to kill hornes, but if thou marrie,
Hang me by the necke, if hornes that yeare miscarrie.
Finely put on
Rosa. Well then, I am the shooter
Boy. And who is your Deare?
Rosa. If we choose by the hornes, your selfe come not
neare. Finely put on indeede
Maria. You still wrangle with her Boyet, and shee
strikes at the brow
Boyet. But she her selfe is hit lower:
Haue I hit her now
Rosa. Shall I come vpon thee with an old saying, that
was a man when King Pippin of France was a little boy, as
touching the hit it
Boyet. So I may answere thee with one as old that
was a woman when Queene Guinouer of Brittaine was a
little wench, as touching the hit it
Rosa. Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
Thou canst not hit it my good man
Boy. I cannot, cannot, cannot:
And I cannot, another can.
Clo. By my troth most pleasant, how both did fit it
Mar. A marke marueilous well shot, for they both
Boy. A mark, O marke but that marke: a marke saies
Let the mark haue a pricke in't, to meat at, if it may be
Mar. Wide a'th bow hand, yfaith your hand is out
Clo. Indeede a' must shoote nearer, or heele ne're hit
Boy. And if my hand be out, then belike your hand
Clo. Then will shee get the vpshoot by cleauing the
Ma. Come, come, you talke greasely, your lips grow
Clo. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir challenge her
Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good
Clo. By my soule a Swaine, a most simple Clowne.
Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue put him downe.
O my troth most sweete iests, most inconie vulgar wit,
When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were,
Armathor ath to the side, O a most dainty man.
To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
To see him kisse his hand, and how most sweetly a will
And his Page atother side, that handfull of wit,
Ah heauens, it is most patheticall nit.
Exeunt. Shoote within.
Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.
Nat. Very reuerent sport truely, and done in the testimony
of a good conscience
Ped. The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood,
ripe as a Pomwater who now hangeth like a Iewell in
the eare of Celo the skie; the welken the heauen, and anon
falleth like a Crab on the face of Terra, the soyle, the
land, the earth
Curat.Nath. Truely M[aster]. Holofernes, the epythithes are
sweetly varied like a scholler at the least: but sir I assure
ye, it was a Bucke of the first head
Hol. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo
Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket
Hol. Most barbarous intimation: yet a kinde 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 vndressed, vnpolished, vneducated,
vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or ratherest
vnconfirmed fashion, to insert againe my haud credo
for a Deare
Dul. I said the Deare was not a haud credo, 'twas a
Hol. Twice sod simplicitie, bis coctus, O thou monster
Ignorance, how deformed doost thou looke
Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the dainties that are
bred in a booke.
He hath not eate paper as it were:
He hath not drunke inke.
His intellect is not replenished, hee is onely an animall,
onely sensible in the duller parts: and such barren plants
are set before vs, that we thankfull should be: which we
taste and feeling, are for those parts that doe fructifie in
vs more then he.
For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or
So were there a patch set on Learning, to see him in a
But omne bene say I, being of an old Fathers minde,
Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde
Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your
wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue
weekes old as yet?
Hol. Dictisima goodman Dull, dictisima goodman
Dul. What is dictima?
Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone
Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was
And wrought not to fiue-weekes when he came to fiuescore.
Th' allusion holds in the Exchange
Dul. 'Tis true indeede, the Collusion holds in the
Hol. God comfort thy capacity, I say th' allusion holds
in the Exchange
Dul. And I say the polusion holds in the Exchange:
for the Moone is neuer but a month old: and I say beside
that, 'twas a Pricket that the Princesse kill'd
Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall
Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour
the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a
Nath. Perge, good M[aster]. Holofernes, perge, so it shall
please you to abrogate scurilitie
Hol. I will something affect a letter, for it argues
The prayfull Princesse pearst and prickt
a prettie pleasing Pricket,
Some say a Sore, but not a sore,
till now made sore with shooting.
The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore,
then Sorrell iumps from thicket:
Or Pricket-sore, or else Sorell,
the people fall a hooting.
If Sore be sore, than ell to Sore,
makes fiftie sores O sorell:
Of one sore I an hundred make
by adding but one more L
Nath. A rare talent
Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him
with a talent
Nath. This is a gift that I haue simple: simple, a foolish
extrauagant spirit, full of formes, figures, shapes, obiects,
Ideas, apprehensions, motions, reuolutions. These
are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the
wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing
of occasion: but the gift is good in those in whom it is
acute, and I am thankfull for it
Hol. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my
parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you,
and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you
are a good member of the common-wealth
Nath. Me hercle, If their Sonnes be ingenuous, they
shall want no instruction: If their Daughters be capable,
I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca loquitur, a
soule Feminine saluteth vs.
Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.
Iaqu. God giue you good morrow M[aster]. Person
Nath. Master Person, quasi Person? And if one should
be perst, Which is the one?
Clo. Marry M[aster]. Schoolemaster, hee that is likest to a
Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit
in a turph of Earth, Fire enough for a Flint, Pearle
enough for a Swine: 'tis prettie, it is well
Iaqu. Good Master Parson be so good as reade mee
this Letter, it was giuen mee by Costard, and sent mee
from Don Armatho: I beseech you read it
Nath. Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra
ruminat, and so forth. Ah good old Mantuan, I
may speake of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie,
vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perreche. Old Mantuan,
old Mantuan. Who vnderstandeth thee not, vt re
sol la mi fa: Vnder pardon sir, What are the contents? or
rather as Horrace sayes in his, What my soule verses
Hol. I sir, and very learned
Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stanze, a verse, Lege domine.
If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue?
Ah neuer faith could hold, if not to beautie vowed.
Though to my selfe forsworn, to thee Ile faithfull proue.
Those thoughts to mee were Okes, to thee like Osiers
Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes.
Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend.
If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffice.
Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee co[m]mend.
All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder.
Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire;
Thy eye Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadfull
Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fire.
Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong,
That sings heauens praise, with such an earthly tongue
Ped. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the
accent. Let me superuise the cangenet
Nath. Here are onely numbers ratified, but for the
elegancy, facility, & golden cadence of poesie caret: Ouiddius
Naso was the man. And why in deed Naso, but
for smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy? the
ierkes of inuention imitarie is nothing: So doth the
Hound his master, the Ape his keeper, the tyred Horse
his rider: But Damosella virgin, Was this directed to
Iaq. I sir from one mounsier Berowne, one of the
strange Queenes Lords
Nath. I will ouerglance the superscript.
To the snow-white hand of the most beautious Lady Rosaline.
I will looke againe on the intellect of the Letter, for
the nomination of the partie written to the person written
Your Ladiships in all desired imployment, Berowne
Ped. Sir Holofernes, this Berowne is one of the Votaries
with the King, and here he hath framed a Letter to a sequent
of the stranger Queens: which accidentally, or
by the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and
goe my sweete, deliuer this Paper into the hand of the
King, it may concerne much: stay not thy complement, I
forgiue thy duetie, adue
Maid. Good Costard go with me:
Sir God saue your life
Cost. Haue with thee my girle.
Hol. Sir you haue done this in the feare of God very
religiously: and as a certaine Father saith
Ped. Sir tell not me of the Father, I do feare colourable
colours. But to returne to the Verses, Did they please
you sir Nathaniel?
Nath. Marueilous well for the pen
Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill
of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to
gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I
haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill,
vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those
Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of
Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie
Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text)
is the happinesse of life
Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it.
Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not say me nay: pauca
Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our
Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone.
Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare,
I am coursing my selfe.
They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch,
pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee
downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say
I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this
Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a
sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue;
if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by
this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for
her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye,
and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath
taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is
part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she
hath one a'my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the
Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter
Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care
a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a
paper, God giue him grace to grone.
He stands aside. The King entreth.
Kin. Ay mee!
Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast
thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap: in faith
King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not,
To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose,
As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot.
The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright,
Through the transparent bosome of the deepe,
As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light:
Thou shin'st in euery teare that I doe weepe,
No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee:
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the teares that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my griefe will show:
But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
My teares for glasses, and still make me weepe.
O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell,
No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
Enter Longauile. The King steps aside.
What Longauill, and reading: listen eare
Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare
Long. Ay me, I am forsworne
Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers
Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame
Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name
Lon. Am I the first y haue been periur'd so?
Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know,
Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie,
The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie
Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue.
O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue,
These numbers will I teare, and write in prose
Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose,
Disfigure not his Shop
Lon. This same shall goe.
He reades the Sonnet.
Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye,
'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
Perswade my heart to this false periurie?
Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment.
A Woman I forswore, but I will proue,
Thou being a Goddesse, I forswore not thee.
My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine,
Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:
If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
If by me broke, What foole is not so wise,
To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?
Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity.
A greene Goose, a Goddesse, pure pure Idolatry.
God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th' way.
Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay
Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play,
Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie,
And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish,
Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish
Dum. O most diuine Kate
Bero. O most prophane coxcombe
Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye
Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye
Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted
Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted
Dum. As vpright as the Cedar
Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child
Dum. As faire as day
Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine
Dum. O that I had my wish?
Lon. And I had mine
Kin. And mine too good Lord
Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?
Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she
Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be
Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision
Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision
Dum. Once more Ile read the Ode that I haue writ
Ber. Once more Ile marke how Loue can varry Wit.
Dumane reades his Sonnet.
On a day, alack the day:
Loue, whose Month is euery May,
Spied a blossome passing faire,
Playing in the wanton ayre:
Through the Veluet, leaues the winde,
All vnseene, can passage finde.
That the Louer sicke to death,
Wish himselfe the heauens breath.
Ayre (quoth he) thy cheekes may blowe,
Ayre, would I might triumph so.
But alacke my hand is sworne,
Nere to plucke thee from thy throne:
Vow alacke for youth vnmeete,
youth so apt to plucke a sweet.
Doe not call it sinne in me,
That I am forsworne for thee.
Thou for whom Ioue would sweare,
Iuno but an aethiop were,
And denie himselfe for Ioue.
Turning mortall for thy Loue.
This will I send, and something else more plaine.
That shall expresse my true-loues fasting paine.
O would the King, Berowne and Longauill,
Were Louers too, ill to example ill,
Would from my forehead wipe a periur'd note:
For none offend, where all alike doe dote
Lon. Dumaine, thy Loue is farre from charitie,
That in Loues griefe desir'st societie:
You may looke pale, but I should blush I know,
To be ore-heard, and taken napping so
Kin. Come sir, you blush: as his, your case is such,
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You doe not loue Maria? Longauile,
Did neuer Sonnet for her sake compile;
Nor neuer lay his wreathed armes athwart
His louing bosome, to keepe downe his heart.
I haue beene closely shrowded in this bush,
And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty Rimes, obseru'd your fashion:
Saw sighes reeke from you, noted well your passion.
Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries!
On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,
And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath.
What will Berowne say when that he shall heare
Faith infringed, which such zeale did sweare.
How will he scorne? how will he spend his wit?
How will he triumph, leape, and laugh at it?
For all the wealth that euer I did see,
I would not haue him know so much by me
Bero. Now step I forth to whip hypocrisie.
Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me.