Love's Labor's Lost (Folio 1, 1623)
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140
Loues Labour's lost
¶The vertue of your eie must breake my oth.
¶For vertues office neuer breakes men troth.
¶Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure
¶A world of torments though I should endure,
¶So much I hate a breaking cause to be
¶Of heauenly oaths, vow'd with integritie.
¶Qu. I in truth, my Lord.
¶My Ladie (to the manner of the daies)
¶We foure indeed confronted were with foure
¶And talk'd apace: and in that houre (my Lord)
¶I dare not call them fooles; but this I thinke,
¶When they are thirstie, fooles would faine haue drinke.
¶By light we loose light; your capacitie
¶Is of that nature, that to your huge stoore,
¶Ber. I am a foole, and full of pouertie.
¶Ros. But that you take what doth to you belong,
¶It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
¶Ros. All the foole mine.
¶Ros. Which of the Vizards what it that you wore?
¶Ber. Where? when? What Vizard?
2315Why demand you this?
¶They'l mocke vs now downeright.
¶Que. Amaz'd my Lord? Why lookes your Highnes
¶sadde?
¶you pale?
¶Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
¶And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,
2335Nor to the motion of a Schoole-boies tongue.
¶Nor neuer come in vizard to my friend,
¶Nor woo in rime like a blind-harpers songue,
¶Three-pil'd Hyperboles, spruce affection;
¶Haue blowne me full of maggot ostentation.
¶By this white Gloue (how white the hand God knows)
¶And to begin Wench, so God helpe me law,
¶Ber. Yet I haue a tricke
2350Of the old rage: beare with me, I am sicke.
¶Write Lord haue mercie on vs, on those three,
¶They are infected, in their hearts it lies:
¶They haue the plague, and caught it of your eyes:
¶For the Lords tokens on you do I see.
¶Ber. Peace, for I will not haue to do with you.
¶Were you not heere but euen now, disguis'd?
¶Kin. Madam, I was.
¶Qu. And were you well aduis'd?
2370Kin. I was faire Madam.
¶Qu. When you then were heere,
¶What did you whisper in your Ladies eare?
2375her.
¶King. Vpon mine Honor no.
¶Qu. Peace, peace, forbeare:
¶your oath once broke, you force not to forsweare.
¶As precious eye-sight, and did value me
¶Aboue this World: adding thereto moreouer,
2385That he vvould Wed me, or else die my Louer.
¶Qu. God giue thee ioy of him: the Noble Lord
¶Most honorably doth vphold his word.
¶King. What meane you Madame?
¶By my life, my troth
¶Ros. By heauen you did; and to confirme it plaine,
¶you gaue me this: But take it sir againe.
¶I knew her by this Iewell on her sleeue.
¶And Lord Berowne (I thanke him) is my deare.
¶What? Will you haue me, or your Pearle againe?
¶Ber. Neither of either, I remit both twaine.
2400Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
¶That smiles his cheeke in yeares, and knowes the trick
M4v
Told
