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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    called Loues Labor's lost.


    1245Enter Iaquenetta and the Clowne.
    Iaquenetta God giue you good morrow M. Person.
    Nath. Maister Person, quasi Person? And if one shoulde
    be perst, Which is the one?
    Clo. Marrie M. Scholemaster, he that is liklest to a hoggs-(head.
    Nath. Of persing a Hogshead, a good luster of conceit
    in a turph of Earth, Fier enough for a Flint, Pearle enough
    for a Swine: tis prettie, it is well.
    Iaque. Good M. Parson be so good as read me this letter,
    1255it was geuen me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armatho:
    I beseech you read it.
    Nath.
    Facile precor gellida, quando pecas omnia sub vmbra ru-
    minat
    , and so foorth. Ah good olde Mantuan, I may speake
    of thee as the traueiler doth of Venice, vemchie, vencha, que non
    1260te vnde, que non te perreche. Olde Mantuan, olde Mantuan,
    Who vnderstandeth thee not, loues thee not, vt re sol la mi fa:
    Vnder pardon sir, What are the contentes? or rather as Hor-
    race sayes in his, What my soule verses.
    Holo. I sir, and very learned.
    1265Nath. Let me heare a staffe, a stauze, a verse, Lege domine.

    If Loue make me forsworne, how shall I sweare to loue?
    Ah neuer fayth could hold, yf not to beautie vowed.
    Though to my selfe forsworne, to thee Ile faythfull proue.
    1270Those thoughts to me were Okes, to thee like Osiers bowed
    Studie his byas leaues, and makes his booke thine eyes.
    Where all those pleasures liue, that Art would comprehend.
    1275If knowledge be the marke, to know thee shall suffise.
    Well learned is that tongue, that well can thee commend.
    All ignorant that soule, that sees thee without wonder.
    Which is to mee some prayse, that I thy partes admire,
    Thy eie Ioues lightning beares, thy voyce his dreadful thũder
    Which not to anger bent, is musique, and sweete fier.
    Celestiall as thou art, Oh pardon loue this wrong,
    That singes heauens prayse, with such an earthly tong.
    Pedan. You finde not the apostraphas, and so misse the
    1285accent. Let me superuise the cangenet.
    Nath. Here are onely numbers ratefied, but for the ele-
    gancie
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