Love's Labour's Lost (version 2) - Free Audiobook

000 Scene IV. Hero’s apartment.

MAAN III. 4 Enter Hero, Margaret, and Ursula.

Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire her to rise.

Urs. I will, lady.

Hero. And bid her come hither.

005 Urs. Well. [Exit.

006 Marg. Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I’ll wear this.

008 Marg. By my troth’s not so good; and I warrant your cousin will say so.

010 Hero. My cousin’s a fool, and thou art another: I’ll wear none but this.

Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a thought browner; and your gown’s a most rare fashion, i’ faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan’s gown that 015 they praise so.

Hero. O, that exceeds, they say.

017 Marg. By my troth’s but a night-gown in respect of 018 yours,—cloth o’ gold, and cuts, and laced with silver, set 019 with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, and skirts, round 020 underborne with a bluish tinsel: but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent fashion, yours is worth ten on’t.

Hero. God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is exceeding heavy.

Marg. ’Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

025 Hero. Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?

Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think you would have me 029 say, ‘saving your reverence, a husband:’ an bad thinking do 030 not wrest true speaking, I’ll offend nobody: is there any harm in ‘the heavier for a husband’? None, I think, an it be the right husband and the right wife; otherwise ’tis light, and not heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.

Enter Beatrice.

034 Hero. Good morrow, coz.

035 Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero.

Hero. Why, how now? do you speak in the sick tune?

Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks.

038 Marg. Clap’s into ‘Light o’ love;’ that goes without a burden: do you sing it, and I’ll dance it.

040 Beat. Ye light o’ love, with your heels! then, if your 041 husband have stables enough, you’ll see he shall lack no barns.

Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

045 Beat. ’Tis almost five o’clock, cousin; ’tis time you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!

Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H.

Marg. Well, an you be not turned Turk, there’s no 050 more sailing by the star.

Beat. What means the fool, trow?

Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one their heart’s desire!

Hero. These gloves the count sent me; they are an 055 excellent perfume.

Beat. I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell.

057 Marg. A maid, and stuffed! there’s goodly catching of cold.

Beat. O, God help me! God help me! how long have 060 you professed apprehension?

Marg. Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?

Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am sick.

065 Marg. Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero. There thou prickest her with a thistle.

Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some 070 moral in this Benedictus.

Marg. Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance that I think you are in love: nay, by’r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list; nor I list not to think what I 075 can; nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart 076 out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man: he swore he would 079 never marry; and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats 080 his meat without grudging: and how you may be converted, I know not; but methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.

083 Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?

Marg. Not a false gallop.

Re-enter Ursula.

085 Urs. Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the town, are come to fetch you to church.

Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula. [Exeunt.