Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Timothy Billings
Not Peer Reviewed

Love's Labor's Lost (Quarto 1, 1598)

Bero. What reason haue you fort.
2665Brag. The naked trueth of it is, I hane no Shirt.
I goe Woolward for pennance.
Boy. True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want of
Linnen: since when, Ile be sworne he wore none, but a dish-
cloute of Jaquenettaes, and that a weares next his hart for a
Enter a Messenger Mounsier Marcade.
God saue you Madame.
Quee. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interrnpptest our
2675Marcad. I am sorrie Madame for the newes I bring
is heauie in my tongue. The King your father
Quee. Dead for my life.
Marcad. Euen so: my tale is tolde.
B er. Worthies away, the Scæne begins to cloude.
For mine owne part I breath free breath: I haue
seene the day of wrong through the litle hole of discretion,
and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.
Exeunt Worthys
King. How fares your Maiestie?
Boyet prepare, I will away to nyght.
King. Madame Not so, I do beseech you stay.
Quee. Prepare I say: I thanke you gracious Lords
For all your faire endeuours and intreat:
Out of a new sad-soule, that you vouchsafe,
2690In your rich wisedome to excuse, or hide,
The liberall opposition of our spirites,
If ouerboldly we haue borne our selues,
In the conuerse of breath (your gentlenes
Was guyltie of it.) Farewell worthy Lord:
2695A heauie hart beares not a humble tongue.
Excuse me so comming too short of thankes,
For my great sute, so easely obtainde.
King. The extreame partes of time extreamly formes,
All causes to the purpose of his speede:
2700And often at his very loose decides
called Loues Labor's lost.