Love's Labor's Lost (Quarto 1, 1598)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Enter the King and the rest.
¶maunde me any seruice to her thither,
¶And vtters it againe when God dooth please.
¶He is Witts Pedler, and retales his wares:
¶This Gallant pins the Wenches on his sleeue.
¶Had he bin Adam he had tempted Eue.
¶A can carue to, and lispe: Why this is hee
2250This is the Ape of Forme, Mounsier the nice,
¶That when he playes at Tables chides the Dice
¶In honorable tearmes; nay he can sing
¶Mende him who can, the Ladies call him sweete.
¶This is the floure that smyles on euery one.
¶To shew his teeth as white as Whales bone.
¶And consciences that will not die in debt,
¶Pay him the due of honie-tonged Boyet.
¶That put Armathoes Page out of his part.
¶
Enter the Ladies.
¶Bero. See where it comes. Behauiour what wert thou?
¶Till this mad man shewed thee, and what art thou now?
¶Quee. Faire in all Haile is foule, as I conceaue.
H2
To
A pleasant conceited Comedie:
