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  • Title: Love's Labor's Lost (Quarto 1, 1598)
  • Editor: Timothy Billings

  • Copyright Timothy Billings. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Timothy Billings
    Not Peer Reviewed

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

    A pleasant conceited Comedie:

    715Lady Maria. That last is Berowne, the merrie madcap L.
    Not a word with him but a iest.
    Boy. And euery iest but a word.
    Prin. It was well done of you to take him at his word.
    Boy. I was as willing to grapple as he was to boord.
    720Lady Ka. Two hot Sheepes marie.
    Bo. And wherefore not Shipps?
    No Sheepe (sweete Lambe) vnlesse we feede on your lippes.
    La. You Sheepe and I pasture: shall that finish the iest?
    Bo. So you graunt pasture for me.
    725Lad. Not so gentle Beast.
    My lippes are no Common, though seuerall they be.
    Bo. Belonging to whom?
    La. To my fortunes and mee.
    Prin. Good witts will be iangling, but gentles agree,
    730This ciuill warre of wittes were much better vsed
    On Nauar and his Bookmen, for heere tis abused.
    Bo. If my obseruation (which very seldome lyes
    By the hartes still rethoricke, disclosed with eyes.
    Deceaue me not now, Nauar is infected.
    735Prin. With what?
    Bo. With that which we Louers intitle Affected.
    Prin. Your reason.
    Bo. Why all his behauiours did make their retire,
    To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desier.
    740His hart like an Agot with your print impressed,
    Proud with his forme, in his eye pride expressed.
    His tongue all impacient to speake and not see,
    Did stumble with haste in his ey-sight to bee,
    All sences to that sence did make their repaire,
    745To feele only looking on fairest of faire:
    Mee thought all his senses were lokt in his eye,
    As Iewels in Christall for some Prince to buy.
    Who tendring their owne worth from where they were (glast,
    Did poynt you to buy them along as you past.
    750His faces owne margent did coate such amazes,
    That all eyes saw his eyes inchaunted with gazes.
    Ile giue you Aquitaine, and all that is his,