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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    Not Peer Reviewed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.

    Quee. Berowne did sweare him selfe out of all suite.
    2195Mar. Dumaine was at my seruice, and his sword,
    No poynt (quoth I) my seruant, straight was mute.
    Kath. Lord Longauill said I came ore his hart:
    And trow you what he calde me?
    Quee. Qualme perhapt.
    2200Kath. Yes in good faith.
    Quee. Goe sicknes as thou art.
    Ros. Well, better wits haue worne plaine statute Caps.
    But will you heare; the King is my Loue sworne.
    Quee. And quicke Berowne hath plighted Fayth to me.
    2205Kath. And Longauill was for my seruice borne.
    Mar. Dumaine is mine as sure as barke on tree.
    Boyet. Madame, and prettie mistresses giue eare.
    Immediatly they will againe be heere,
    In their owne shapes: for it can neuer be,
    2210They will digest this harsh indignitie.
    Quee. Will they returne?
    Boy. They will they will, God knowes,
    And leape for ioy, though they are lame with blowes:
    Therefore change Fauours, and when they repaire,
    2215Blow like sweete Roses, in this sommer aire.
    Quee. How blow? how blow? Speake to be vnderstood.
    Boy. Faire Ladies maskt, are Roses in their bud:
    Dismaskt, their dammaske sweete commixture showne,
    2220Are Angels varling cloudes, or Roses blowne.
    Quee. Auaunt perplexitie, What shall we do,
    If they returne in their owne shapes to woe?
    Rosa. Good Madame, if by me youle be aduisde,
    Lets mocke them still as well knowne as disguysde:
    2225Let vs complaine to them what fooles were heare,
    Disguysd like Muscouities in shapeles geare:
    And wonder what they were, and to what ende
    Their shallow showes, and Prologue vildly pende.
    And their rough carriage so rediculous,
    2230Should be presented at our Tent to vs.
    Boyet. Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand,
    Quee. Whip to our Tents as Roes runs ore land. Exeunt.