Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Timothy Billings
Not Peer Reviewed

Love's Labor's Lost (Folio 1, 1623)



128
Loues Labour's lost

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,
745To 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
Did point out to buy them along as you past.
750His 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.
755Bro. But to speak that in words, which his eie hath dis-
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
skilfully.
760Lad. Ma. He is Cupids Grandfather, and learnes news
of him.
Lad.2. Then was Venus like her mother, for her fa-
ther is but grim.
Boy. Do you heare my mad wenches?
765La. 1. No.
Boy. What then, do you see?
Lad. 2. I, our way to be gone.
Boy. You are too hard for me.
Exeunt omnes.



Actus Tertius.



770
Enter Broggart and Boy.
Song.
Bra. Warble childe, make passionate my sense of hea-
ring.
Boy. Concolinel.
775Brag. Sweete Ayer, go tendernesse of yeares: take
this Key, giue enlargement to the swaine, bring him fe-
stinatly hither: I must imploy him in a letter to my
Loue.
Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule?
780Bra. 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
785with singing, loue sometime through: nose as if you
snuft vp loue by smelling loue with your hat penthouse-
like 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,
790and 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?
795Brag. 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.
800Boy. 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.
805Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy.
Boy. And out of heart Master: all those three I will
proue.
Brag. What wilt thou proue?
Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vp-
810on 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.
815Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
at all.
Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie mee a
letter.
Boy. A message well simpathis'd, a Horse to be em-
820bassadour 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.
825Boy. 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.
Brad. I say Lead is slow.
830Boy. 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.
835Boy. 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.

840
Enter Page and Clowne.

Pag.A wonder Master, here's a Costard broken in a
shin.
Ar. Some enigma, some riddle, come, thy Lenuoy
begin.
845Clo. 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
850me to rediculous smyling: O pardon me my stars, doth
the inconsiderate take salue for lenuoy, and the word len-
uoy for a salue?
Pag. Doe the wise thinke them other, is not lenuoy a
salue?
855Ar. No Page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make
Some obscure precedence that hath tofore bin faine.
Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
my lenuoy.
The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
860Were 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
desire more?
865Clo. The Boy hath sold him a bargaine, a Goose, that's
L4v