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

000 Scene II. The same.

LLL I. 2 Enter Armado and Moth.

Arm. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?

Moth. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.

Arm. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, 005 dear imp.

Moth. No, no; O Lord, sir, no.

Arm. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?

Moth. By a familiar demonstration of the working, 010 my tough senior.

Arm. Why tough senior? why tough senior?

Moth. Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal?

013 Arm. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may 015 nominate tender.

Moth. And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough.

Arm. Pretty and apt.

Moth. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying 020 apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty?

Arm. Thou pretty, because little.

022 Moth. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?

023 Arm. And therefore apt, because quick.

Moth. Speak you this in my praise, master?

025 Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.

027 Arm. What, that an eel is ingenious?

Moth. That an eel is quick.

Arm. I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest 030 my blood.

Moth. I am answered, sir.

Arm. I love not to be crossed.

033 Moth. [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him.

035 Arm. I have promised to study three years with the 036 Duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.

Arm. Impossible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

040 Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.

Arm. I confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man.

045 Moth. Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.

048 Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three.

Arm. True.

050 Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now 051 here is three studied, ere ye’ll thrice wink: and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!

055 Moth. To prove you a cipher.

Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I 060 would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?

Moth. Hercules, master.

065 Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Moth. Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his 070 back like a porter: and he was in love.

Arm. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson’s love, my dear Moth?

075 Moth. A woman, master.

Arm. Of what complexion?

Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.

Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion.

080 Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir.

Arm. Is that one of the four complexions?

Moth. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.

Arm. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks Samson had small 085 reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit.

086 Moth. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit.

087 Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red.

088 Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.

090 Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

Moth. My father’s wit, and my mother’s tongue, assist me!

Arm. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and 094 pathetical!

Moth.

095 If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne’er be known;

097 For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale white shown:

Then if she fear, or be to blame,

100 By this you shall not know;

For still her cheeks possess the same

Which native she doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

105 Arm. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

107 Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since: but, I think, now ’tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing 110 nor the tune.

Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park 114 with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well.

115 Moth. [Aside] To be whipped; and yet a better 116 love than my master.

117 Arm. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.

Moth. And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.

Arm. I say, sing.

120 Moth. Forbear till this company be past.

Enter Dull, Costard, and Jaquenetta.

Dull. Sir, the duke’s pleasure is, that you keep Costard 122 safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no 123 penance; but a’ must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she is allowed for 125 the day-woman. Fare you well.

Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid.

Jaq. Man.

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.

Jaq. That’s hereby.

130 Arm. I know where it is situate.

Jaq. Lord, how wise you are!

Arm. I will tell thee wonders.

133 Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

135 Jaq. So I heard you say.

Arm. And so, farewell.

Jaq. Fair weather after you!

138 Dull. Come, Jaquenetta, away! [Exeunt Dull and Jaquenetta.

139 Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou 140 be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for 145 they are but lightly rewarded.

Arm. Take away this villain; shut him up.

Moth. Come, you transgressing slave; away!

148 Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to 150 prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see.

Moth. What shall some see?

Cost. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look 155 upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet. [Exeunt Moth and Costard.

Arm. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, 160 doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is 163 a devil: there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was 165 Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid’s butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules’ club; and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard’s rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, 169 the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy; 170 but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! 171 be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I 173 shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for 174 whole volumes in folio. [Exit.