Love's Labor's Lost (Quarto 1, 1598)
Not Peer Reviewed
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
¶cloute of Jaquenettaes, and that a weares next his hart for a
2670Fauour.
¶
Enter a Messenger Mounsier Marcade.
¶merriment.
¶is heauie in my tongue. The King your father
¶Quee. Dead for my life.
¶B er. Worthies away, the Scæne begins to cloude.
2680Brag. For mine owne part I breath free breath: I haue
¶and I will right my selfe like a Souldier.
Exeunt Worthys
2685Quee. Boyet prepare, I will away to nyght.
¶For all your faire endeuours and intreat:
¶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.
¶King. The extreame partes of time extreamly formes,
2700And often at his very loose decides
That
called Loues Labor's lost.
