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- Edition: Love's Labour's Lost
Love's Labor's Lost (Folio 1, 1623)
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Loues Labour's lost131
1114Rosa.
Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
1115Thou canst not hit it my good man.
1116Boy. I cannot, cannot, cannot:
1117And I cannot, another can.
Exit.
1120did hit.
1122my Lady.
1123Let the mark haue a pricke in't, to meat at, if it may be.
1124Mar. Wide a'th bow hand, yfaith your hand is out.
1126the clout.
1127Boy. And if my hand be out, then belike your hand
1128is in.
1130is in.
1132foule.
1134to boule.
1135Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good
1136Oule.
1138Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue put him downe.
1143To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
1145sweare:
1146And his Page at other side, that handfull of wit,
1147Ah heauens, it is most patheticall nit.
1149Shoote within.
1150 Enter Dull, Holofernes, the Pedant and Nathaniel.
1152mony of a good conscience.
1154ripe as a Pomwater, who now hangeth like a Iewell in
1157land, the earth.
1158Curat. Nath. Truely M. Holofernes, the epythithes are
1162Dul. 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a Pricket.
1167ted, vnpruned, vntrained, or rather vnlettered, or rathe-
1169for a Deare.
1171Pricket.
1174Nath. Sir hee hath neuer fed of the dainties that are
1175bred in a booke.
1176He hath not eate paper as it were:
1177He hath not drunke inke.
1182vs more then he.
1183For as it would ill become me to be vaine, indiscreet, or
1184a foole;
1186Schoole.
1188Many can brooke the weather, that loue not the winde.
1189Dul. You two are book-men: Can you tell by your
1190wit, What was a month old at Cains birth, that's not fiue
1191weekes old as yet?
1193Dull.
1195Nath. A title to Phebe, to Luna, to the Moone.
1196Hol. The Moone was a month old when Adam was
1197no more.
1199Th'allusion holds in the Exchange.
1201Exchange.
1203in the Exchange.
1207Hol. Sir Nathaniel, will you heare an extemporall
1208Epytaph on the death of the Deare, and to humour
1209the ignorant call'd the Deare, the Princesse kill'd a
1210Pricket.
1214facilitie.
1219 The Dogges did yell, put ell to Sore,
1220 then Sorell iumps from thicket:
1222 the people fall a hooting.
1226 by adding but one more L.
1227Nath. A rare talent.
1228Dul. If a talent be a claw, looke how he clawes him
1229with a talent.
1233are begot in the ventricle of memorie, nourisht in the
1234wombe of primater, and deliuered vpon the mellowing
1236acute, and I am thankfull for it.
1238parishioners, for their Sonnes are well tutor'd by you,
1239and their Daughters profit very greatly vnder you: you
1240are a good member of the common-wealth.
L6 shall