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- Edition: Love's Labour's Lost
Love's Labor's Lost (Folio 1, 1623)
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769 Actus Tertius.
770 Enter Broggart and Boy.
771Song.
773ring.
774Boy. Concolinel.
778Loue.
779Boy. Will you win your loue with a French braule?
782at the tongues end, canarie to it with the feete, humour
788your thinbellie doublet, like a Rabbet on a spit, or your
789hands in your pocket, like a man after the old painting,
790and keepe not too long in one tune, but a snip and away:
792nice wenches that would be betraied without these, and
793make them men of note: do you note men that most are
797Brag. But O, but O.
801and your Loue perhaps, a Hacknie:
802But haue you forgot your Loue?
805Brag. By heart, and in heart Boy.
807proue.
808Brag. What wilt thou proue?
811cannot come by her: in heart you loue her, because your
812heart is in loue with her: and out of heart you loue her,
813being out of heart that you cannot enioy her.
815Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
816at all.
818letter.
823for he is verie slow gated: but I goe.
826Brag. Thy meaning prettie ingenious, is not Lead a
827mettall heauie, dull, and slow?
833He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet that's he:
834I shoote thee at the Swaine.
838Most rude melancholie, Valour giues thee place.
839My Herald is return'd.
840 Enter Page and Clowne.
842shin.
844begin.
847lenuoy, no Salue sir, but a Plantan.
849thought, my spleene, the heauing of my lunges prouokes
852uoy for a salue?
854salue?
856Some obscure precedence that hath tofore bin faine.
857Now will I begin your morrall, and do you follow with
858my lenuoy.
859 The Foxe, the Ape, and the Humble-Bee,
862 Staying the oddes by adding foure.
864desire more?
L4v
Loues Labour's lost129
866Sir, your penny-worth is good, and your Goose be fat.
869Ar. Come hither, come hither:
870How did this argument begin?
872Then cal'd you for the Lenuoy.
873Clow. True, and I for a Plantan:
874Thus came your argument in:
875Then the Boyes fat Lenuoy, the Goose that you bought,
876And he ended the market.
878a shin?
881I will speake that Lenuoy.
884Arm. We will talke no more of this matter.
890bertie. Enfreedoming thy person: thou wert emured,
891restrained, captiuated, bound.
892Clow. True, true, and now you will be my purgation,
893and let me loose.
895and in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:
897there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honours
898is rewarding my dependants. Moth, follow.
902Iew: Now will I looke to his remuneration.
903Remuneration, O, that's the Latine word for three-far-
904things: Three-farthings remuneration, What's the price
905of this yncle? i.d. no, Ile giue you a remuneration: Why?
906It carries it remuneration: Why? It is a fairer name then
907a French-Crowne. I will neuer buy and sell out of this
908word.
909 Enter Berowne.
912may a man buy for a remuneration?
913Ber. What is a remuneration?
915Ber. O, Why then three farthings worth of Silke.
918As thou wilt win my fauour, good my knaue,
919Doe one thing for me that I shall intreate.
921Ber. O this after-noone.
928Harke slaue, it is but this:
929The Princesse comes to hunt here in the Parke,
930And in her traine there is a gentle Ladie:
933And to her white hand see thou do commend
937don. I will doe it sir in print: gardon, remuneration.
938 Exit.
940I that haue beene loues whip?
941A verie Beadle to a humerous sigh: A Criticke,
942Nay, a night-watch Constable.
943A domineering pedant ore the Boy,
945This wimpled, whyning, purblinde waiward Boy,
946This signior Iunios gyant drawfe, don Cupid,
947Regent of Loue-rimes, Lord of folded armes,
949Liedge of all loyterers and malecontents:
950Dread Prince of Placcats, King of Codpeeces.
951Sole Emperator and great generall
952Of trotting Parrators (O my little heart.)
953And I to be a Corporall of his field,
954And weare his colours like a Tumblers hoope.
956A woman that is like a Germane Cloake,
957Still a repairing: euer out of frame,
958And neuer going a right, being a Watch:
959But being watcht, that it may still goe right.
960Nay, to be periurde, which is worst of all:
961And among three, to loue the worst of all,
962A whitly wanton, with a veluet brow.
963With two pitch bals stucke in her face for eyes.
964I, and by heauen, one that will doe the deede,
965Though Argus were her Eunuch and her garde.
966And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
967To pray for her, go to: it is a plague
969Of his almighty dreadfull little might.