Love's Labor's Lost (Folio 1, 1623)
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Loues Labour's lost
133
1370But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe
¶O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell,
¶No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
1375Sweet leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
¶What Longauill, and reading: listen eare.
1380Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers.
¶Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name.
¶Disfigure not his Shop.
¶
Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye,
¶'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
¶A Woman I forswore, but I will proue,
¶My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
1400Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me.
¶Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
¶Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is:
¶If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
¶God amend vs, God amend, we are much out o'th'way.
1410
Enter Dumaine.
¶Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play,
¶And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
1415More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish,
¶Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye.
¶Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted.
¶Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted.
¶Dum. As vpright as the Cedar.
1425Dum. As faire as day.
¶Lon. And I had mine.
¶Kin. And mine too good Lord.
¶Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be.
1435Dum. 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,
¶Playing in the wanton ayre:
¶Through the Veluet, leaues the winde,
¶That the Louer sicke to death,
¶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:
1450Vow alacke for youth vnmeete,
¶Doe not call it sinne in me,
¶That I am forsworne for thee.
¶Thou for whom Ioue would sweare,
1455Iuno but an Aethiop were,
¶And denie himselfe for Ioue.
¶Turning mortall for thy Loue.
1460O 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,
¶To be ore-heard, and taken napping so.
¶You chide at him, offending twice as much.
1470You 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.
1475And markt you both, and for you both did blush.
¶Aye me, sayes one! O Ioue, the other cries!
¶On her haires were Gold, Christall the others eyes.
1480You would for Paradise breake Faith and troth,
¶And Ioue for your Loue would infringe an oath.
1485How 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.
¶Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me.
1490Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reproue
¶Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares.
¶You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing:
¶But are you not asham'd? nay, are you not
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