Internet Shakespeare Editions


Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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:

    Boy. By my penne of obseruation.
    Brag. But o but o.
    Boy. The Hobbie-horse is forgot.
    Brag.Calst thou my loue Hobbi-horse.
    800Boy. No Maister, the Hobbi-horse is but a colt, and your
    loue perhaps, a hacknie: But haue you forgot your Loue?
    Brag. Almost I had.
    Boy. Necligent student, learne her by hart.
    805Brag. By hart, and in hart boy.
    Boy. And out of hart Maister: all those three I will
    Brag. What wilt thou proue?
    Boy. A man, if I liue (and this) by, in, and without, vpon the
    810instant: by hart you loue her, because your hart cannot come
    by her: in hart you loue her, because your hart is in loue
    with her: and out of hart you loue her, being out of hart
    that you cannot enioy her.
    Brag. I am all these three.
    815Boy. And three times as much more, and yet nothing
    at all.
    Brag. Fetch hither the Swaine, he must carrie me a letter.
    Boy. A message well simpathisd, a Horse to be embassa-
    820doure for an Asse.
    Brag. Ha ha, What saiest thou?
    Boy. Marrie sir, you must send the Asse vpon the Horse,
    for he is verie slow gated: but I go.
    Brag. The way is but short, away.
    825Boy. As swift as Lead sir.
    Brag. The meaning prettie ingenius, is not Lead a mettal
    heauie, dull, and slow?
    Boy. Minnime honest Maister, or rather Maister no.
    Brag. I say Lead is slow.
    830Boy. You are too swift sir to say so.
    Is that Lead slow which is fierd from a Gunne?
    Brag. Sweete smoke of Rhetorike,
    He reputes me a Cannon, and the Bullet thats hee:
    I shoote thee at the Swaine.
    835Boy. Thump then, and I flee.