Prescanned Shakespeare.com
presented by Acoustic Learning


Love's Labours Lost

Act I, Scene 1

The king of Navarre's park.
 
[Enter FERDINAND king of Navarre, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE and DUMAIN]
 
FERDINAND
            ,          ,      ,   ,                  ,
      Let fame,| that all | hunt aft/er in | their lives,
            ,      ,       ,         ,        ,
      Live^reg|istered | upon | our bra|zen tombs
            ,      ,    ,                 ,          ,
      And then | grace us / in the | disgrace | of death:
             ,         ,      ,       ,        ,
      When spite | of cor|morant-|devour|ing Time,
         2   ,       ,         ,          ,          ,
      The endeav|or of | this pres|ent breath | may buy:
            ,       ,             ,     .     T       T    T
      That hon|or which | shall bate | his scythe's keen edge
            ,         ,         ,      ,     ,
      And make | us heirs | of all | eter|nity.
        ,           ,    ,                 ,        ,
      Therefore,| brave con/querors,| for so | you are,
            ,        ,           ,       ,     ,
      That war | against | your own | affec|tions,
         2      ,     ,       2       ,          ,
      And the huge | army | of the world's | desires.
            ,     ,               ,        ,          ,
      Our late | edict | shall strong|ly stand | in force,
          ,            ,         ,      ,         ,
      Navarre | shall be | the wond|er of | the world.
            ,            ,      ,       ,    ,
      Our court | shall be | a lit|tle Ac|ademe,
        ,             ,       ,        ,       ,
      Still and | contem|plative | in liv|ing art.
             ,         ,         ,         ,      ,
      You* three,| Berowne,| Dumain,| and Long|aville,
             ,           ,       T      T    .   T          ,
      Have sworn | for three | years' term, to live | with me:
          ,        ,           2       ,    ,       ,
      My fel|low schol|ars, and to / keep those | statutes*
            ,       ,             ,    ,         ,
      That are | recor|ded in / this sche|dule here.
             ,            ,          ,          ,            ,
      Your oaths | are passed,| and now | subscribe | your names:
                  ,    ,           ,          ,       ,
      That his / own hand | may strike | his hon|or down,
            ,    ,           ,          ,          ,
      That vi|olates | the smal|lest branch | herein:
          ,          ,         ,        ,         ,
      If you | are armed | to do,| as sworn | to do,
            ,                 ,    ,           ,        ,
      Subscribe | to your / deep oaths,| and keep | it too.
 
LONGAVILLE
      ,   2      ,      ,              T     T      T
      I am re|solved, 'tis / but a | three years' fast:
            ,           ,           ,          ,      ,
      The mind | shall ban|quet, though | the bo|dy pine:
       ,     ,               T    T     .    T       ,
      Fat paunch/es have | lean pates, and^daint|y bits
        T    T   .    T          ,          ,           ,
      Make rich the ribs,| but bank|rupt* quite | the wits.
 
DUMAIN
          ,        ,        ,         ,     ,
      My lov|ing lord,| Dumain | is mort|ified:
            ,       ,       ,            ,          ,
      The gros|ser man|ner of | these world's | delights
            ,       ,          ,        T     Tx      T
      He throws | upon | the gross | world's baser slaves:
           ,          ,          ,        ,         ,
      To love,| to wealth,| to pomp,| I pine | and die,
            ,           ,       ,       ,    ,
      With all | these^liv|ing in | philo|sophy.
 
BEROWNE
      ,    2       ,           ,     ,        ,
      I can but | say their | prote|station | over,
           ,            ,     ,           ,       ,
      So much,| dear* liege,| I have | alrea|dy sworn,
            ,        ,         ,       ,            ,
      That is,| to live | and stud|y here | three^years.
       ,               ,        ,        ,      ,
      But there | are oth|er strict | observ|ances:
          ,        ,       ,      ,          ,
      As not | to see | a wom|an in | that^term,
            ,          ,        ,       ,        ,
      Which I | hope^well | is not | enrol|led there.
           ,     ,    2      ,         T    T   T
      And one | day in a | week to | touch no food
       .   T   T    T        ,      ,        ,
      And but one meal | on eve|ry day | beside:
            ,         ,        ,       ,        ,
      The which | I hope | is not | enrol|led there.
            ,         ,           ,       ,              ,
      And then | to sleep | but three | hours in | the night,
           ,         ,         ,        ,         ,
      And not | be seen | to wink | of all | the day.
           ,         ,         ,          ,          ,
      When I | was wont | to think | no harm | all^night,
            ,    .   T    T    T         ,         ,
      And make | a dark night too | of half | the day:
            ,          ,        ,       ,        ,
      Which^I | hope^well | is not | enrol|led there.
      ,              ,        ,            ,         ,
      O, these^|are bar|ren tasks,| too* hard | to keep,
       ,            ,         ,       ,          ,
      Not to | see lad|ies, stud|y, fast,| not sleep.
 
FERDINAND
             ,          ,          ,      ,           ,
      Your oath | is passed,| to pass | away | from these.
 
BEROWNE
       ,             ,        ,          ,          ,
      Let me | say* no | my liege,| and if | you please,
         ,      ,          ,      ,           ,
      I on|ly swore | to stud|y with | your grace
            ,      ,    2         ,           T     T      T
      And stay | here in your | court for | three years' space.
 
LONGAVILLE
            ,          ,        ,      ,             ,
      You swore | to that | Berowne,| and to | the rest.
 
BEROWNE
          ,         ,           ,        ,          ,
      By yea | and nay | sir, then | I swore | in jest.
        ,            ,         ,      ,         ,
      What is | the end | of stud|y? Let | me know.
 
FERDINAND
            ,         ,            ,                 ,    ,
      Why that | to know | which else | we should / not know.
 
BEROWNE
              ,           ,           ,          ,        ,
      Things^hid | and barred |(you mean)| from com|mon sense.
 
FERDINAND
       ,       2      ,         T   T   T      ,
      Aye, that is | study's | godlike rec|ompense.
 
BEROWNE
            ,         ,          ,          ,     ,
      Come^on | then, I | will swear | to stud|y so,
           ,          ,        ,       ,         ,
      To know | the thing | I am | forbid | to know:
           ,         ,      ,         ,           ,
      As thus,| to stud|y where | I well | may* dine,
           ,        ,         ,       ,       ,
      When I | to feast | express|ly am | forbid.
           ,      ,          ,           ,         ,
      Or stud|y where | to meet | some^mist|ress fine,
             ,      ,          ,        ,          ,
      When mist|resses | from com|mon sense | are hid.
          ,        ,            ,        ,        ,
      Or hav|ing sworn | too* hard | a keep|ing oath,
       ,           ,          ,          ,          ,
      Study | to break | it, and | not break | my troth.
           ,        ,         ,          ,        ,
      If stud|y's gain | be thus,| and this | be so,
       T  .   T     T           ,     .   T   T    T
      Study knows that | which^yet | it doth not know.
        ,             ,        ,          ,          ,
      Swear me | to this,| and I | will nere | say* no.
 
FERDINAND
        ,              ,            ,       ,       ,
      These be | the stops | that hind|er stud|y quite,
            ,          ,      ,          ,        ,
      And train | our int|ellects | to vain | delight.
 
BEROWNE
       T    T   .   T           ,     .    T    T    T
      Why? All delights | are vain,| and that most vain,
              ,      ,    ,                 ,       ,
      Which^with | pain purch/ased doth^|inher|it pain:
           ,      ,        ,      ,        ,
      As pain|fully | to pore | upon | a book,
           ,          ,          ,             ,           ,
      To seek | the light | of truth,| while truth | the while
             ,        ,          ,         ,         ,
      Doth^false|ly blind | the eye|sight^of | his look:
        T      Tx     T            ,          ,         ,
      Light seeking light,| doth^light | of light | beguile:  ??
          ,          ,            ,          ,         ,
      So ere | you find | where light | in dark|ness lies,
             ,             ,        ,       ,          ,
      Your light | grows^dark | by los|ing of | your eyes.
       ,          ,          ,          ,        ,
      Study | me how | to please | the eye | indeed,
          ,       ,     ,       ,       ,
      By fix|ing it | upon | a fai|rer eye,
           ,         ,         ,           ,         ,
      Who daz|zling so,| that eye | shall be | his heed,
            ,          ,           ,         ,       ,
      And give | him light | that it | was blind|ed by.
       ,           ,         ,         ,   2     ,
      Study | is like | the heav|en's glo|rious sun,
          2      ,     T   T      T            ,        ,
      That will not | be deep-searched | with sau|cy looks:
        ,              ,   2    ,        ,     ,
      Small have | contin|ual plod|ders ev|er won
             ,       ,     ,         ,         ,
      Save^base | author|ity | from oth|ers' books.
              ,       ,   ,            ,           ,
      These^earth|ly god|fathers | of heav|en's lights,
             ,        ,        ,      ,       ,
      That give | a name | to eve|ry fix|ed star,
            ,          ,       ,           ,         ,
      Have^no | more* prof|it of | their shin|ing nights,
             ,            ,         ,           ,          ,
      Than those | that walk | and wot | not* what | they are.
            ,         ,              ,     ,           ,
      Too much | to know,| is to / know nought | but fame:
           ,      ,   ,             ,        ,
      And eve|ry god|father | can give | a name.
 
FERDINAND
            ,           ,         ,         ,      ,       o
      How well | he's read,| to reas|on a/gainst read|ing.
 
DUMAIN
          ,        ,     .   T   T    T        ,       o
      Procee|ded well,| to stop all good | procee|ding.
 
LONGAVILLE
           ,           ,          ,            ,         ,       o
      He weeds | the corn | and still | lets^grow | the wee|ding.
 
BEROWNE
             ,          ,           ,       T    T  .   T        o
      The spring | is near | when green | geese are a-breed|ing.    (hex with prev 3)
 
DUMAIN
           ,         ,
      How fol|lows that?
 
BEROWNE
                          ,             ,           ,
                         Fit in | his place | and time.
 
DUMAIN
          ,        ,
      In reas|on noth|ing.
 
BEROWNE
                            ,          ,         ,
                          Some|thing then | in rhyme.
 
FERDINAND
          ,          ,        ,   2     ,         ,
      Berowne | is like | an en|vious snea|ping frost,
             ,           ,      ,   ,                   ,
      That bites | the first-|born in/fants of | the spring.
 
BEROWNE
        ,           ,                   ,    ,        ,
      Well, say^|I am,| why* should / proud sum|mer boast,
          ,          ,           ,      ,          ,
      Before | the birds | have an|y cause | to sing?
              ,        ,        ,  2  ,         ,
      Why* should | I joy | in an|y abor|tive birth?
            ,       ,        ,        ,        ,
      At Christ|mas I | no more | desire | a rose
             ,        ,     .   T    T    T        ,
      Than wish | a snow | in May's new-fang|led mirth;
            ,         ,      ,               ,       ,
      But like | of each | thing that | in seas|on grows.
          ,        ,      ,        ,          ,
      So you,| to stud|y now | it is | too* late,
             ,          ,       2    ,         ,        ,
      Climb ore | the house | to unlock | the lit|tle gate.
 
FERDINAND
              ,         ,         ,        ,        ,
      Well*, sit | you^out:| go home,| Berowne:| adieu.
 
BEROWNE
       ,              ,     2       ,          ,          ,
      No my | good* lord,| I have sworn | to stay | with you.
             ,         ,         ,      2      ,    ,
      And though | I have | for bar|barism / spoke more
            ,          ,       ,         ,         ,
      Than for | that ang|el know|ledge you | can say,
           ,      ,           ,         ,          ,
      Yet con|fident | I'll keep | what I | have swore,
            ,         ,        ,          ,             ,
      And bide | the pen|ance of | each^three | years'^day.
        ,            ,       ,         ,          ,
      Give me | the pap|er, let | me read | the same,
           ,         ,       2    ,            ,          ,
      And to | the strict|est decrees | I'll write | my name.
 
FERDINAND
            ,           ,        ,         ,           ,
      How well | this yield|ing res|cues thee | from shame.
 
BEROWNE
Item. That no woman shall come within a mile of my court.
Hath this been proclaimed?
 
LONGAVILLE
Four days ago.
 
BEROWNE
Let's see the penalty.
 
Reads
On pain of losing her tongue. Who devised this penalty?
 
LONGAVILLE
Marry that did I.
 
BEROWNE
Sweet lord, and why?
 
LONGAVILLE
To fright them hence with that dread penalty, a dangerous law against gentility.
Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.
 
BEROWNE
            ,    ,         ,           ,           ,
      This art|icle | my liege | yourself | must break,
            ,          ,            ,         ,     ,
      For well | you know | here* comes | in emb|assy
       .     T      T     T          ,          ,         ,
      The French king's daught|er, with | yourself | to speak:
          ,         ,               ,    ,    ,
      A maid | of grace | and com/plete maj|esty,
         ,        ,       ,      ,      ,
      About | surrend|er up | of A|quitaine
       ,    2    ,         ,          ,         ,
      To her de|crepit,| sick, and | bedrid* | father:
             ,          ,    ,         ,         ,
      Therefore | this art|icle | is made | in vain,
           ,       ,        2    ,       ,         ,
      Or vain|ly comes | the admired | princess | hither.
 
FERDINAND
            ,          ,             ,          ,         ,
      What say | you lords?| Why*, this | was quite | forgot.
 
BEROWNE
           ,     ,     ,        ,     ,
      So stud|y ev|ermore | is ov|ershot,
             ,          ,     ,          ,         ,
      While it | doth stud|y to | have^what | it would,
           ,        ,        ,         ,           ,
      It doth | forget | to do | the thing | it should,
            ,         ,          ,          ,        ,
      And when | it hath | the thing | it hunt|eth most,
            ,         ,            ,        ,         ,
      'Tis won | as towns | with fire,| so won,| so lost.
 
FERDINAND
           ,         ,          ,            ,        ,
      We must | of force | dispense | with this | decree,
            ,     T    T   .   T       ,     ,
      She must | lie here on mere | neces|sity.
 
BEROWNE
         ,     ,          ,        ,         ,
      Neces|sity | will make | us all | forsworn
               ,         ,         ,           ,              ,
      Three* thous|and times | within | this three | years'^space;
           ,      ,          ,        ,          ,
      For eve|ry man | with his | affects | is born,
       ,         ,    ,                  ,         ,
      Not by | might mas/tered but | by spe|cial grace:
       . T   T     T            ,            ,          ,
      If I break faith,| this word | shall break | for me,
         ,        ,          ,       ,     ,
      I am | forsworn | on mere | neces|sity.
       ,            ,         ,         ,          ,
      So to | the laws | at large | I write | my name,
           ,           ,           ,         ,         ,
      And he | that breaks | them in | the least | degree,
         ,            ,       ,     ,        ,
      Stands in | attaind|er of | eter|nal shame.
          ,         ,        ,      ,       ,
      Sugges|tions are | to oth|er as | to me:
          ,       ,          ,         ,         ,
      But I | believe | although | I seem | so loath,
         ,         ,           ,           ,          ,
      I am | the last | that will | last^keep | his oath.
       ,    2             ,      ,    ,         ,
      But is there | no quick | recre|ation | granted?
 
FERDINAND
            ,           ,         ,           ,        ,       o
      Aye that | there is,| our court | you know | is hau|nted
        ,         ,       ,      ,         ,
      With a | refin|ed trav|eller | of Spain,
         ,        ,     .     T     T    T        ,       o
      A man | in all | the world's new fash|ion plan|ted,   (hex with above)
             ,        ,         ,       ,         ,
      That hath | a mint | of phras|es in | his brain:
       ,               ,                ,    ,     ,
      One, whom | the mus|ic of his // own vain tongue,
            ,        ,        ,        ,     ,
      Doth rav|ish like | enchant|ing har|mony:
         ,         ,      ,            ,           ,
      A man | of comp|lements | whom right | and wrong
             ,         ,   ,              ,    ,
      Have chose | as um|pire of | their mu|tiny.
             ,         ,        ,       ,      ,
      This child | of fan|cy, that | Armad|o hight,
           ,    ,      2      ,        ,         ,
      For in|terim | to our stud|ies shall | relate,
       .   T    T    T           ,         ,   2     ,
      In high-born words | the worth | of man|y a knight:
            ,       ,       ,              ,          ,
      From taw|ny Spain | lost in | the world's | debate.
           ,        ,          ,         ,        ,
      How you | delight | my lords,| I know | not I,
          ,        ,        ,         ,         ,
      But I | protest | I love | to hear | him lie,
          ,         ,         ,        ,        ,
      And I | will use | him for | my min|strelsy.
 
BEROWNE
         ,     ,       ,       ,     2     ,
      Armad|o is | a most | illus|trious wight,
         ,     .   T   T    T       ,                ,
      A man | of fire-new words,| fashion's | own^knight.
 
LONGAVILLE
       ,              ,          ,          ,         ,
      Costard | the swain | and he | shall be | our sport,
           ,       ,        ,       ,              ,
      And so | to stud|y, three | years is | but short.
 
[Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD]
 
DULL
Which is the duke's own person.
 
BEROWNE
This fellow, what wouldst?
 
DULL
I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.
 
BEROWNE
This is he.
 
DULL
Signior Arme, Arme commends you:
There's villany abroad, this letter will tell you more.
 
COSTARD
Sir the contempts thereof are as touching me.
 
FERDINAND
A letter from the magnificent Armado.
 
BEROWNE
How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.
 
LONGAVILLE
A high hope for a low heaven, God grant us patience.
 
BEROWNE
To hear, or forbear hearing.
 
LONGAVILLE
To hear meekly sir, and to laugh moderately, or to forbear both.
 
BEROWNE
Well sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb in the merriness.
 
COSTARD
The matter is to me sir, as concerning Jaquenetta, the manner of it is, I was taken with the manner.
 
BEROWNE
In what manner?
 
COSTARD
In manner and form following sir all those three. I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form, and taken following her into the park: which put together, is in manner and form following. Now sir for the manner; it is the manner of a man to speak to a woman, for the form in some form.
 
BEROWNE
For the following sir.
 
COSTARD
As it shall follow in my correction, and God defend the right.
 
FERDINAND
Will you hear this letter with attention?
 
BEROWNE
As we would hear an oracle.
 
COSTARD
Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh.
 
FERDINAND
Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent, and sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, and body's fostering patron:
 
COSTARD
Not a word of Costard yet.
 
FERDINAND
So it is.
 
COSTARD
It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is in telling true: but so.
 
FERDINAND
Peace,
 
COSTARD
Be to me, and every man that dares not fight.
 
FERDINAND
No words.
 
COSTARD
Of other men's secrets I beseech you.
 
FERDINAND
So it is besieged with sable-colored melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humor to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air: and as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk: the time when? About the sixth hour, when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper: so much for the time when. Now for the ground which? Which I mean I walked upon, it is ycleped, thy park. Then for the place where? Where I mean I did encounter that obscene and preposterous event that draweth from my snow-white pen the ebon-colored ink, which here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest. But to the place where? It standeth north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy curious knotted garden; there did I see that low-spirited swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,
 
COSTARD
(Me?)
 
FERDINAND
that unlettered small-knowing soul,
 
COSTARD
(Me?)
 
FERDINAND
that shallow vassal
 
COSTARD
(Still me?)
 
FERDINAND
which as I remember, hight Costard,
 
COSTARD
(O me)
 
FERDINAND
sorted and consorted contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent, canon: which with, O with, but with this I passion to say wherewith:
 
COSTARD
With a wench.
 
FERDINAND
with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or for thy more sweet understanding a woman: Him, I (as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on) have sent to thee, to receive the meed of punishment by thy sweet grace's officer Anthony Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.
 
DULL
Me, and it shall please you? I am Anthony Dull.
 
FERDINAND
For Jaquenetta (so is the weaker vessel called) which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain, I keep her as a vessel of the law's fury, and shall at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. Thine in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of duty. Don Adriano De Armado.
 
BEROWNE
This is not so well as I looked for, but the best that ever I heard.
 
FERDINAND
Aye the best, for the worst. But sirrah, what say you to this?
 
COSTARD
Sir I confess the wench.
 
FERDINAND
Did you hear the proclamation?
 
COSTARD
I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the marking of it.
 
FERDINAND
It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be taken with a wench.
 
COSTARD
I was taken with none sir, I was taken with a damsel.
 
FERDINAND
Well, it was proclaimed damsel.
 
COSTARD
This was no damsel neither sir, she was a virgin.
 
FERDINAND
It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed virgin.
 
COSTARD
If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.
 
FERDINAND
This maid will not serve your turn sir.
 
COSTARD
This maid will serve my turn sir.
 
FERDINAND
Sir I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water.
 
COSTARD
I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.
 
FERDINAND
           ,       ,             ,   ,     ,
      And Don | Armad|o shall / be your | keeper.
           ,        ,      ,           ,        ,
      My Lord | Berowne,| see him | deliv|ered ore,
           ,        ,         ,         ,         ,
      And go | we lords | to put | in prac|tice that,
              ,        ,       ,          ,        ,
      Which^each | to oth|er hath | so strong|ly sworn.
 
[Exeunt FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN]
 
BEROWNE
            ,         ,        ,     ,           ,
      I'll lay | my head | to an|y good | man's^hat,
              ,           ,           ,         ,      ,
      These oaths | and laws | will prove | an id|le scorn.
       ,             ,
      Sirrah,| come^on.   \\
 
COSTARD
I suffer for the truth sir; for true it is, I was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl, and therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity, affliction may one day smile again, and till then sit thee down sorrow.
 
[Exeunt]

← Main Page | Next Scene →


Home