Prescanned Shakespeare.com
presented by Acoustic Learning
The same.
[Enter BEROWNE, with a paper]
BEROWNE
The king he is hunting the deer,
I am coursing myself.
They have pitched a toil, I am toiling in a pitch, pitch that defiles;
defile, a foul word: Well, set thee down sorrow; for so they say the fool
said, and so say I, and I the fool: well proved wit. By the Lord this love
is as mad as Ajax, it kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep: well proved again
of my side. I will not love; if I do hang me, in faith I will not. O but her
eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not love her; yes, for her two
eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By
heaven I do love, and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy: and
here is part of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one of my
sonnets already, the clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it:
sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady. By the world, I would not care a
pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper, God give him
grace to groan.
FERDINAND
Aye me!
BEROWNE
Shot by heaven: proceed sweet Cupid, thou hast thumped him with thy
bird-bolt under the left pap: in faith secrets.
FERDINAND
, ,
, , ,
So sweet | a kiss | the gold|en sun | gives^not,
. T T
T , ,
,
To those fresh morn|ing drops | upon | the rose,
. T T T
, , ,
As thy eye-beams,| when their / fresh rays | have
smote
,
, , 2 T
T T
The night | of dew | that on my | cheeks down
flows.
, ,
, ,
,
Nor shines | the silv|er moon | one^half | so
bright
,
, , ,
,
Through the | transpar|ent bosom of | the deep,
, ,
, ,
,
As doth | thy face | through tears | of mine |
give^light:
, , ,
, ,
Thou shinst | in eve|ry tear | that I | do weep,
, ,
, , ,
No drop | but as | a coach | doth car|ry thee:
, ,
, ,
,
So rid|est thou | triumph|ing in | my woe.
,
, , ,
,
Do* but | behold | the tears | that swell | in me,
,
, ,
, ,
And they | thy glo|ry through | my grief | will
show:
, ,
, , ,
But do | not love | thyself,| then thou | wilt
keep
, ,
, ,
,
My tears | for glas|ses, and | still* make | me
weep.
, ,
, , ,
O queen | of queens,| how far | dost thou |
excel,
,
, ,
, ,
No thought | can think,| nor tongue | of mort|al
tell.
, 2
, , ,
,
How shall she | know my | griefs? I'll | drop the
| paper.
T T
T , ,
2 ,
Sweet leaves shade | folly.| Who is he | comes
here*?
,
, ,
, ,
What Long|aville,| and read|ing: list|en ear.
BEROWNE
, 2 ,
T T T
,
Now in thy | likeness,| one more fool | appear.
LONGAVILLE
___ __ _ __
,
Aye | me,| I | am | forsworn.
BEROWNE
, 2
, 2 ,
, ,
Why he comes^|in like^a | perjure,| wearing |
papers.
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
In love | I hope,| sweet* fel|lowship | in shame.
BEROWNE
,
, ,
, ,
One^drunk|ard loves | anoth|er of | the name.
LONGAVILLE
, ,
D D __
Am I the | first that have | been per|jured so?
BEROWNE
, ,
2 , ,
I could put | thee in com|fort. Not* by two |
that I know, (tetra with prev)
,
, 2 x
, ,
Thou makst | the trium|viry, the corner-|cap of
so|ciety,
,
D D , , o
The shape of | Love's Ty|burn that hangs | up
simplic|ity. (pent with prev)
LONGAVILLE
, ,
, T Tx .
T
I fear | these stub|born lines | lack power to
move:
, ,
, ,
,
O sweet | Mari|a, emp|ress of | my love.
, ,
, ,
,
These numb|ers will | I tear,| and write | in
prose.
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
O rhymes | are guards | on want|on Cup|id's hose:
, , ,
Disfig|ure not | his slop.
LONGAVILLE
, ,
This same | shall go.
,
x , 2 ,
,
Did not | the heaven|ly rhe|toric of | thine eye,
, ,
, , ,
'Gainst^whom | the world | cannot | hold
arg/ument,
, ,
, , ,
Persuade | my heart | to this / false per|jury?
, T
T . T , ,
Vows for | thee broke deserve | not pun/ishment.
, ,
, ,
,
A wom|an I | forswore,| but I | will prove,
x ,
, ,
,
Thou being | a god|dess, I | forswore | not^thee.
, ,
, x
,
My vow | was earth|ly, thou | a heaven|ly love,
, 2 ,
, ,
,
Thy grace | being gained,| cures^all | disgrace |
in me.
,
, ,
, ,
Vows are | but breath,| and breath | a vap|or is.
, , ,
, ,
Then thou | fair* sun,| which^on | my earth |
dost shine,
, ,
, ,
,
Exhalst | this vap|or-vow,| in thee | it is:
, ,
, ,
,
If brok|en then,| it is | no fault | of mine:
,
, ,
, ,
If by | me broke,| what fool | is not | so wise,
, ,
, , ,
To lose | an oath,| to win | a par|adise?
BEROWNE
, Dx D
, , 2
This is the | liver-vein,| which makes flesh^|a
deity,
. D D
, D
D x
A green goose,| a goddess,| pure pure |idolatry.
2 ,
2 , ,
2 ___
God^amend us,| God^amend, we | are much out | of
the way.
LONGAVILLE
, __ ,
__
By whom shall | I send | this (Compa|ny?) stay.
BEROWNE
D D D
D , ,
All hid,| all hid,| an old in|fant play.
<- , D
D D D
,
Like||^a demi|god, here | sit I | in the sky,
, ,
D Dx D D
And wretched | fools'^secrets | heedfully |
ore-eye.
, 2 D
D x
__
More sacks to the | mill. O | heavens I have*| my
wish,
,
D D D
D ,
Dumain tran|sformed, four | woodcocks | in a
dish.
DUMAIN
, ,
__
O most | divine | Kate.
BEROWNE
,
, ,
O most | profane | coxcomb*. (tri with
prev)
DUMAIN
x ,
, , ,
By heaven | the wond|er in | a mort|al eye.
BEROWNE
, ,
, , ,
By earth | she is / not, corp|oral, there | you
lie.
DUMAIN
, ,
, , ,
o
Her amb|er hair | for foul | hath amb|er quot|ed.
BEROWNE
, ,
, , , o
An amb|er-col|ored rav|en was | well* not|ed.
DUMAIN
, , 2 ,
As up|right as the | cedar. (pickup)
BEROWNE
T T T
, , ,
Stoop I say | her should|er is | with^child.
DUMAIN
, ,
As fair | as day. (picked up)
BEROWNE
T . T
T , ,
,
Aye as some days,| but then | no sun | must
shine.
DUMAIN
, ,
,
O that | I had | my wish?
LONGAVILLE
, ,
And I | had mine.
FERDINAND
,
, ,
And I | mine^too | good Lord.
BEROWNE
<- , ,
, ,
T . T T oo
Amen,| so I || had mine:| is not | that a good
word?|
DUMAIN
, ,
, , ,
I would | forget | her, but | a fev|er she
,
, , ,
,
Reigns in | my blood,| and will | remem|bered be.
BEROWNE
, ,
, , 2 ,
A fev|er in | your blood,| why then in|cision
,
, , ,
, 2->
Would let | her out | in sauc|ers: sweet |
mispri||sion.
DUMAIN
, ,
, ,
,
Once^more | I'll read | the ode | that I | have
writ.
BEROWNE
, ,
, , ,
Once^more | I'll mark | how love | can var|y wit.
DUMAIN
, ,
, ___
On a | day, a|lack the | day:
,
, ,
___
Love whose^|month is | ever | May,
,
, ,
__
Spied a | blossom | passing | fair,
,
, ,
___
Playing | in the | wanton | air:
,
, ,
__
Through the | velvet,| leaves the | wind,
, ,
, __
All un|seen, can | passage | find.
,
, ,
___
That the | lover | sick to | death,
,
, ,
__
Wish him|self the | heaven's | breath.
T T T
, ,
Air (quoth he)| thy cheeks | may blow,
,
, ,
__
Air, would | I might^|triumph | so.
, ,
, ___
But a|lack my | hand is | sworn,
,
, ,
__
Nere to | pluck thee | from thy | throne:
, ,
, __
Vow a|lack for | youth un|meet,
,
, ,
___
Youth so^|apt to | pluck a | sweet.
,
, ,
__
Do not | call it | sin in | me,
,
, ,
__
That I | am for|sworn for | thee.
, __
, ___
Thou for | whom | Jove would | swear,
, ,
, ,
Juno | but an | Ethi|ope^were,
, ,
, __
And de|ny him|self for | Jove.
,
, ,
__
Turning | mortal | for thy | love.
, 2
, ,
T T T
This will I | send, and | something | else more
plain,
,
2 , T
T T ,
That shall ex|press my | true love's fast|ing
pain.
,
, , , ,
O would | the king,| Berowne,| and Long|aville,
,
, ,
, ,
Were lov|ers too,| ill to | examp|le ill,
, ,
, ,
,
Would from | my fore|head* wipe | a per|jured
note:
,
, , ,
,
For none | offend,| where all | alike | do dote.
LONGAVILLE
, ,
, , ,
Dumain,| thy love | is far | from char|ity,
,
, ,
, ,
That in | love's^grief | desirst | soci|ety:
,
, , ,
,
You may | look^pale,| but I | should blush | I
know,
,
, , ,
,
To be | oreheard,| and tak|en nap|ping so.
FERDINAND
,
, ,
, ,
Come sir,| you blush:| as his,| your case | is
such,
,
, , ,
,
You chide | at him,| offend|ing twice | as much.
,
, , ,
,
You do | not love | Mari|a? Long|avile,
, ,
, ,
,
Did nev|er son|net for / her sake | compile;
, ,
, ,
,
Nor nev|er lay | his wreath|ed arms | athwart
,
, , ,
,
His lov|ing bos|om, to / keep down | his heart.
,
, , ,
,
I have | been close|ly shroud|ed in | this bush,
,
, ,
, ,
And marked | you both,| and for | you both | did
blush.
, ,
, , ,
o
I heard | your guil|ty rhymes,| observed | your
fash|ion:
T T T
, ,
, ,
Saw sighs reek | from you,| noted | well your |
passion. (hex with prev)
T T T T
T T ,
,
Aye me, says | one! O Jove,| the oth|er cries!
,
, , ,
, __
One her | hairs were | gold, cry/stal the |
other's | eyes. (hex with prev)
, , ,
T T . T
You would | for par|adise | break faith and
troth,
, ,
, ,
,
And Jove | for your | love would | infringe | an
oath.
,
, ,
, ,
What will | Berowne | say when | that he | shall
hear
,
, T T
T ,
Faith so | infringed,| which such zeal | did
swear.
, ,
, ,
,
How^will | he scorn?| How^will | he spend | his
wit?
, ,
, ,
,
How^will | he tri|umph, leap,| and laugh | at it?
, ,
, , ,
For all | the wealth | that ev|er I | did see,
, ,
, ,
,
I would | not have | him know | so much | by me.
BEROWNE
,
, , ,
,
Now step | I forth | to whip | hypo|crisy.
,
, ,
, ,
Ah good | my liege,| I pray | thee pard|on me.
, ,
, , ,
Good* heart,| what grace | hast thou | thus^to |
reprove
, ,
, ,
,
These^worms | for lov|ing, that | art most | in
love?
,
, , ,
,
Your eyes | do make | no coach|es in | your
tears.
,
, ,
, ,
There is | no cert|ain prin|cess that | appears.
,
, , ,
,
You'll not | be per|jured, 'tis | a hate|ful
thing:
T T
. T , ,
,
Tush, none but minst|rels like | of son|neting.
,
, ,
, ,
But are | you not | ashamed?| Nay, are | you not
,
, 2 , T T
T
All three | of you,| to be thus | much oreshot?
, ,
, ,
,
You found | his mote,| the king | your mote | did
see;
,
, ,
, ,
But I | a beam | do find | in each | of three.
, ,
, 2 ,
,
O what | a scene | of fool|ery have | I seen,
, ,
, ,
,
Of sighs,| of groans,| of sor|row, and | of teen:
,
, , ,
,
O me,| with what | strict pa/tience have | I sat,
, ,
, , ,
To see | a king | transform|ed to | a gnat?
, , ,
, ,
To see | great Her/cules | whipping | a gig,
, ,
, ,
,
And pro/found So|lomon | to tune | a jig?
, ,
, ,
,
And Nest|or play | at push-|pin with | the boys,
, ,
, ,
,
And crit|ic Tim|on laugh | at id|le toys.
, ,
, ,
,
Where* lies | thy grief?| O tell | me good |
Dumain;
, ,
, ,
,
And gent|le Long|aville,| where* lies | thy pain?
,
, ,
, ,
And where | my lie|ge's? All | about | the
breast:
, ,
A cand|le ho!
FERDINAND
, ,
,
Too bit|ter is | thy jest.
, ,
, ,
,
Are we | betrayed | thus to | thy ov|er-view?
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
Not you | by me,| but I | betrayed | to you.
, ,
, , ,
I that | am hon|est, I | that hold | it sin
, ,
, , ,
To break | the vow | I am | engag|ed in.
, , ,
, ,
I am | betrayed | by keep|ing comp|any
, ,
2 , ,
With men,| like^men | of incon|stancy. ??
, ,
, ,
,
When shall | you see | me write | a thing | in
rhyme?
, ,
, , ,
Or groan | for love?| Or spend | a min|ute's
time,
In pruning me, when shall you hear that I will praise a hand, a foot, a
face, an eye: a gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, a leg, a limb.
FERDINAND
Soft, whither away so fast?
, , ,
, ,
A true | man, or | a thief,| that gal|lops so.
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
I post | from love:| good* lov|er let | me go.
[Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD]
JAQUENETTA
God bless the king.
FERDINAND
What present hast thou there?
COSTARD
Some certain treason.
FERDINAND
What makes treason here?
COSTARD
Nay it makes nothing sir.
FERDINAND
If it mar nothing neither,
The treason and you go in peace away together.
JAQUENETTA
2 ,
, ,
, ,
I beseech | your grace,| let this | letter | be
read:
, ,
x 2 ,
,
Our par/son mis|doubts it; it was | treason | he
said.
FERDINAND
Berowne, read it over. Where hadst thou it?
JAQUENETTA
Of Costard.
FERDINAND
Where hadst thou it?
COSTARD
Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
FERDINAND
D D , D
D x
How now,| what is in | you? Why | dost^thou tear
it?
BEROWNE
. D . D
, D
D D Dx
A toy my liege,| a toy: your | grace needs | not
fear it. ??
LONGAVILLE
, , ,
x
It did move | him to pas|sion, and there|fore
let's hear it.
DUMAIN
, ,
, __
It is Ber|owne's^writing,| and here is | his
name.
BEROWNE
, D D ,
, 2 ___
Ah you whore|son log|gerhead, you | were born to
do | me shame.
,
D D 2 ,
,
Guilty my | lord, guil|ty: I confess,| I confess.
FERDINAND
__
What?
BEROWNE
,
D D D D ,
__
That you* three | fools lacked | me fool,| to
make up | the mess. (pent w/prev two)
D D
, D .
D ,
He, he,| and you: and | you my liege,| and I,
<-
D D ,
2 , ___
Are || pick pur|ses in love,| and we deserve |
to die.
2 , ,
2 , __
O* dismiss this | audience,| and I shall tell |
you more.
DUMAIN
,
,
Now* the num|ber is ev|en.
BEROWNE
, ,
True* true,| we are four:
, ,
Will these turt|les be gone?
FERDINAND
D D ___
Hence sirs,| away.
COSTARD
2 ,
D D
2 ,
__
Walk aside the | true folk,| and let^the trait|ors stay.
[Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA]
BEROWNE
,
, , , ,
Sweet* lords,| sweet lov|ers, O | let^us |
embrace,
, ,
, ,
,
As true | we are | as flesh | and blood | can be:
, ,
, ,
, ,
The sea | will ebb | and flow,| heaven | will
show | his face: ????
,
, ,
, ,
Young^blood | doth not | obey | an old | decree:
, ,
, ,
,
We can|not cross | the cause | why we | were
born:
, . T
T T ,
,
Therefore | of all hands must | we be | forsworn.
FERDINAND
,
T T T T
T T ,
What, did | these rent lines | show some love |
of thine?
BEROWNE
,
, ,
x , ,
Did they,| quoth^you?| Who sees | the heaven|ly
Ros|aline, (hex with prev)
, ,
, , ,
That (like | a rude | and sav|age man | of Inde)
, , ,
2 , ,
At the / first op|ening | of the gor|geous east,
T T .
T , ,
,
Bows not his vas|sal head | and strick|en blind,
,
, ,
, 2 ,
Kisses | the base | ground with | obed|ient
breast?
, ,
, , ,
What pe|rempto|ry eag|le-sight|ed eye
T T . T
, ,
,
Dares look upon | the heav|en of | her brow,
, ,
, , ,
That is / not blind|ed by | her maj|esty?
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
What zeal,| what fu|ry, hath | inspired | thee
now?
,
, , ,
,
My love |(her mist|ress) is | a gra|cious moon,
,
, , T
T . T
She (an | attend|ing star)| scarce seen a light.
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
My eyes | are then | no eyes,| nor I | Berowne.
, ,
, ,
,
O* but | for my / love, day | would turn | to
night,
, ,
, , ,
Of all | complex|ions the / culled sove|reignty
, ,
,
, ,
Do meet | as at | a fair,| in her / fair cheek,
, ,
, , ,
Where seve|ral worth|ies make | one dig/nity,
,
, ,
, ,
Where noth|ing wants | that want | itself |
doth^seek.
,
, , ,
,
Lend me | the flour|ish of / all gent|le tongues,
, ,
, x ,
Fie paint/ed rhe|toric,| O* she / needs it not:
, ,
, , ,
To things | of sale,| a sel|ler's praise |
belongs:
, ,
, , ,
She pas|ses praise,| then praise | too short |
doth blot.
,
, ,
, ,
A with|ered herm|it, five|score* wint|ers worn,
,
, ,
, ,
Might^shake | off fif|ty, look|ing in | her eye:
,
, , ,
,
Beauty | doth^varn|ish age,| as if / new born,
,
, , , ,
And gives | the crutch | the crad|le's in|fancy.
,
, , ,
,
O 'tis | the sun | that mak|eth all |
things^shine.
FERDINAND
x ,
, , ,
By heaven,| thy love | is black | as eb|ony.
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
Is eb|ony | like^her?| O word | divine?
,
, ,
, ,
A wife | of such | wood were | feli|city.
, ,
, , ,
O who | can give | an oath?| Where^is | a book?
,
, ,
, ,
That I | may swear | beauty | doth^beaut|y lack,
, ,
, , ,
If that | she learn | not of | her eye | to look:
,
, ,
, ,
No face | is fair | that is | not full | so
black.
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
O par|adox,| Black is | the badge | of hell,
,
, ,
, ,
The hue | of dun|geons, and | the school | of
night:
, ,
, ,
,
And beaut|y's crest | becomes | the heav|ens
well.
BEROWNE
Tx T
T ,
x ,
Devils soonst tempt | resem|bling spirits | of
light.
,
, ,
, ,
O if | in black | my lad|y's brows | be decked,
,
, ,
, ,
It mourns,| that paint|ing and | usurp|ing hair
,
, , .
T T T
Should rav|ish dot|ers with | a false aspect:
, ,
, . T T
T
And there|fore is | she born | to make black
fair.
, ,
, ,
,
Her fav|or turns | the fash|ion of | the days,
,
, , ,
,
For nat|ive blood | is count|ed paint|ing now:
, ,
, ,
,
And there|fore red,| that would | avoid |
dispraise,
T . T T
, ,
,
Paints itself black,| to im|itate | her brow.
DUMAIN
, , ,
, ,
To look | like her | are chim|ney-sweep|ers
black.
LONGAVILLE
, ,
, 2 ,
,
And since | her time | are col|liers count|ed
bright.
FERDINAND
, , 2
, ,
,
And Eth|iopes | of their sweet | complex|ion
crack.
DUMAIN
, , ,
, , ,
,
Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
????
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
Your mist|resses | dare^nev|er come | in rain,
, ,
, , ,
For fear | their col|ors should | be washed |
away.
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
'Twere good | yours^did:| for sir | to tell | you
plain,
,
, , ,
,
I'll find | a fair|er face | not* washed | today.
BEROWNE
, ,
, ,
,
I'll prove | her fair,| or talk | till dooms|day*
here.
FERDINAND
x ,
, ,
,
No devil | will fright | thee then | so much | as
she.
DUMAIN
x ,
T T T
,
I never | knew* man | hold vile stuff | so dear.
LONGAVILLE
T T
T ,
, 2 ,
Look, here's thy | love, my | foot and her | face
see*.
BEROWNE
, ,
, , ,
O if | the streets | were pav|ed with | thine
eyes,
, ,
, ,
,
Her feet | were much | too dain|ty for / such
tread.
DUMAIN
, , ,
, ,
O vile,| then^as | she goes | what up|ward lies?
,
, ,
, ,
The street | should see | as she |
walked^ov|erhead.
FERDINAND
,
, , ,
,
But what | of this?| Are we | not all | in love?
BEROWNE
,
, , ,
,
Nothing | so sure,| and there|by all | forsworn.
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
Then leave | this chat,| and good | Berowne |
now* prove
, ,
, ,
,
Our lov|ing law|ful, and | our faith | not^torn.
DUMAIN
,
, , 2 ,
x
Aye* mar|ry there,| some* flat|tery for | this
evil.
LONGAVILLE
, ,
, , ,
O some | author|ity | how to | proceed,
, ,
, ,
x
Some tricks,| some quil|lets, how | to cheat |
the devil.
DUMAIN
, , 2
Some salve | for per|jury*.
BEROWNE
, ,
,
O |'tis more | than need.
, ,
, , ,
Have at | you then | affec|tion's men | at arms,
, , ,
, ,
Consid|er what | you first | did swear | unto:
, ,
2 , , ,
To fast,| to stud|y, and to / see no | woman:
,
2 , ,
, ,
Flat^treas|on against | the king|ly state | of
youth.
,
, ,
, ,
Say, can | you fast?| Your stom|achs are / too
young:
, ,
, , ,
And abs|tinence | engen|ders mal|adies.
, ,
, ,
,
And where | that you | have vowed | to stud|y
(lords)
, ,
, , ,
In that | each^of | you have | forsworn | his
book,
,
, , ,
,
Can you | still* dream | and pore,| and there|on
look.
, ,
, ,
,
For when | would^you | my lord,| or you,| or you,
,
, ,
, ,
Have found | the ground | of stud|y's
ex|cellence,
, , ,
, ,
Without | the beaut|y of | a wom|an's face;
, ,
, ,
,
From wom|en's eyes | this doct|rine I | derive,
,
, ,
, ,
They are | the ground,| the books,| the ac|adems,
,
, , , 2
,
From whence | doth^spring | the true |
Prometh|ean fire.
, ,
, , ,
Why, *u|niver|sal plod|ding pois|ons up
,
, , ,
,
The nim|ble spir|its in | the art|eries,
,
, , ,
,
As mo|tion and / long-dur|ing ac|tion tires
, 2 , ,
, ,
The sin|ewy vig|or of | the trav|eller.
,
, , ,
,
Now for | not look/ing on | a wom|an's face,
,
, ,
, ,
You have | in that | forsworn | the use | of
eyes:
, , ,
, ,
And stud|y too,| the caus|er of | your vow.
, ,
, , ,
For where | is an|y auth|or in | the world,
,
, , ,
,
Teaches | such^beaut|y as | a wom|an's eye:
,
, , ,
,
Learning | is but | an ad|junct to | ourself,
. T T T
, , ,
And where we are | our lear|ning like|wise^is:
, ,
, ,
,
Then when | ourselves | we see | in lad|ies'
eyes,
, T
T T 2
, ,
Do we | not likewise | see* our lear|ning there?
, ,
, ,
,
O we | have made | a vow | to stud|y, lords,
,
, ,
, ,
And in | that vow | we have | forsworn | our
books:
, ,
, ,
,
For when | would you |(my liege)| or you,| or
you?
, ,
, ,
,
In lead|en con|templa|tion have / found out
, ,
, , ,
Such fie|ry num|bers as | the prompt|ing eyes,
, ,
, , ,
Of beaut|y's tu|tors have | enriched | you with:
,
, , ,
,
Other | slow^arts | entire|ly keep | the brain:
, ,
, ,
,
And there|fore fin|ding bar|ren prac|ticers,
T T .
T , , ,
Scarce show a harv|est of | their heav|y toil:
, ,
, , ,
But love | first learn|ed in | a lad|y's eyes,
,
, , ,
,
Lives^not | alone | immu|red in | the brain:
, ,
, , ,
But* with | the mo|tion of | all^el|ements,
,
, ,
, x
Courses | as swift | as thought | in eve|ry
power,
, ,
, ,
x
And gives | to eve|ry power | a doub|le power,
, ,
, , ,
Above | their func|tions and | their of|fices.
,
, , ,
,
It adds | a pre|cious see|ing to | the eye:
,
, , ,
,
A lov|er's eyes | will gaze | an eag|le blind,
,
, ,
, ,
A lov|er's ear | will hear | the low|est sound
,
, ,
, ,
When the | suspi|cious head | of theft | is
stopped.
, ,
, ,
,
Love's feel/ing is | more* soft | and sen|sible
, ,
, ,
,
Than are | the tend|er horns | of cock|led
snails.
,
, , ,
,
Love's^tongue | proves^dain|ty Bac|chus gross |
in taste,
, ,
, , ,
For val|or, is | not Love | a Her|cules?
,
, , ,
,
Still* climb|ing trees | in the | Hespe|rides.
,
, , ,
,
Subtle | as Sphinx,| as sweet | and mus|ical,
, ,
, ,
,
As bright | Apol|lo's lute,| strung with | his
hair.
. T T
T ,
, ,
And when Love speaks,| the voice | of all | the
gods,
, ,
, ,
,
Makes^heav|en drow|sy with | the har|mony.
Tx T
T , ,
,
Never durst po|et touch | a pen | to write
,
, , , ,
Until | his ink | were temp|ered with / Love's
sighs:
, ,
, ,
,
O then | his lines | would rav|ish sav|age ears,
, ,
, , ,
And plant | in ty|rants mild | humi|lity.
,
, , ,
,
From wom|en's eyes | this doct|rine I | derive.
,
, ,
, 2 ,
They spark|le still | the right | Prometh|ean
fire,
, ,
, , ,
They^are | the books,| the arts,| the ac|adems,
, ,
, , ,
That show,| contain,| and nour|ish all | the
world.
,
, ,
, ,
Else^none | at all | in ought |
proves^ex|cellent.
,
, , ,
,
Then fools | you were | these wom|en to |
forswear:
, ,
, , ,
Or keep|ing what | is sworn,| you will / prove
fools,
, , , ,
,
For wis|dom's sake,| a word | that all |
men^love,
, ,
, ,
,
Or for / love's sake,| a word | that loves |
all^men,
, ,
, 2 ,
,
Or for / men's sake,| the auth|ors of these |
women:
, , ,
, ,
Or wom|en's sake,| by whom | we men | are men.
T T
T , ,
,
Let's once lose | our oaths | to find |
ourselves,
, ,
, ,
,
Or else | we lose | ourselves,| to keep | our
oaths:
, ,
, , ,
It is | reli|gion to | be thus | forsworn.
, ,
, ,
,
For char|ity | itself | fulfills | the law:
, ,
, , ,
And who | can sev|er love | from char|ity.
FERDINAND
, ,
, ,
,
Saint^Cup|id then,| and sol|diers to | the field.
BEROWNE
, , ,
, ,
Advance | your stand|ards, and | upon | them
lords.
T T
T 2 ,
, ,
Pell-mell, down | with them: but | be first |
advised,
, ,
, ,
,
In con|flict that | you get | the sun | of them.
LONGAVILLE
T . T T
, , ,
Now to plain-dea|ling, lay | these gloz|es by,
, ,
, , ,
Shall we | resolve | to woo | these girls | of
France?
FERDINAND
, , ,
, ,
And win | them too,| therefore | let us | devise,
, ,
, , ,
Some^ent|ertain|ment for | them in | their tents.
BEROWNE
T T
. T , 2 ,
,
First from the park | let us con|duct them |
thither,
,
, ,
, ,
Then home|ward eve|ry man | attach | the hand
, ,
, , ,
Of his / fair mist|ress, in | the aft|ernoon
, ,
T T T , 2
We will | with some | strange pastime | solace
them:
,
, ,
, ,
Such as | the short|ness of | the time | can
shape,
, ,
, ,
,
For rev|els, dan|ces, masks,| and mer|ry hours,
, ,
, ,
x
Forerun | fair* Love,| strewing | her way | with
flowers.
FERDINAND
, ,
, , ,
o
Away,| away,| no time | shall be | omit|ted,
, ,
, ,
, o
That will | betime,| and may | by us | be
fit|ted. (hex with prev)
BEROWNE
, ,
T Tx T ,
Alone,| alone | sowed cockle, reaped | no corn,
,
, ,
, ,
o
And just|ice al|ways whirls | in e|qual meas|ure:
,
, T T .
T ,
Light^wench|es may | prove plagues to men |
forsworn;
,
, ,
, ,
o
If so,| our cop|per buys | no bet|ter treas|ure.
(hex with above)
[Exeunt]