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

ACT IV.

000 Scene I. The same.

LLL IV. 1 Enter the Princess, and her train, a Forester, Boyet, Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine.

Prin. Was that the king, that spurred his horse so hard

002 Against the steep uprising of the hill?

003 Boyet. I know not; but I think it was not he.

Prin. Whoe’er a’ was, a’ showed a mounting mind.

005 Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch:

006 On Saturday we will return to France.

Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush

That we must stand and play the murderer in?

009 For. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;

010 A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.

011 Prin. I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,

And thereupon thou speak’st the fairest shoot.

013 For. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.

014 Prin. What, what? first praise me, and again say no?

015 O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe!

For. Yes, madam, fair.

Prin.

Nay, never paint me now:

Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.

Here, good my glass, take this for telling true:

Fair payment for foul words is more than due.

020 For. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.

Prin. See, see, my beauty will be saved by merit!

022 O heresy in fair, fit for these days!

023 A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.

But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill,

025 And shooting well is then accounted ill.

Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:

027 Not wounding, pity would not let me do’t;

If wounding, then it was to show my skill,

That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.

030 And, out of question, so it is sometimes,

Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,

032 When, for fame’s sake, for praise, an outward part,

We bend to that the working of the heart;

As I for praise alone now seek to spill

035 The poor deer’s blood, that my heart means no ill.

Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty

Only for praise sake, when they strive to be

Lords o’er their lords?

Prin. Only for praise: and praise we may afford

040 To any lady that subdues a lord.

Boyet. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.

Enter Costard.

042 Cost. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

045 Prin. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

Cost. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?

Prin. The thickest and the tallest.

Cost. The thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth.

049 An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,

050 One o’ these maids’ girdles for your waist should be fit.

Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.

Prin. What’s your will, sir? what’s your will?

Cost. I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline.

Prin. O, thy letter, thy letter! he’s a good friend of mine:

055 Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve;

Break up this capon.

Boyet.

I am bound to serve.

This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;

It is writ to Jaquenetta.

Prin.

We will read it, I swear.

Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.

060 Boyet [reads]. By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible; true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The magnanimous and most 064 illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate 065 beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, 066 vici; which to annothanize in the vulgar,—O base and obscure 067 vulgar!—videlicet, He came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw, 068 two; overcame, three. Who came? the king: why did he come? to see: why did he see? to overcome: to whom came he? to the beggar: 070 what saw he? the beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The conclusion 071 is victory: on whose side? the king’s. The captive is enriched: on whose side? the beggar’s. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose side? the king’s: no, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison: thou the beggar; for so witnesseth 075 thy lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce thy love? I could: shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes; for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus, expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part. Thine, in the 080 dearest design of industry,Don Adriano de Armado.

Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar

’Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey.

Submissive fall his princely feet before,

And he from forage will incline to play:

085 But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?

Food for his rage, repasture for his den.

087 Prin. What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter?

What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?

Boyet. I am much deceived but I remember the style.

090 Prin. Else your memory is bad, going o’er it erewhile.

Boyet. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;

092 A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport

To the prince and his bookmates.

Prin.

Thou fellow, a word:

Who gave thee this letter?

Cost.

I told you; my lord.

Prin. To whom shouldst thou give it?

Cost.

095 From my lord to my lady.

Prin. From which lord to which lady?

Cost. From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,

To a lady of France that he call’d Rosaline.

099 Prin. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.

100 [To Ros.] Here, sweet, put up this: ’twill be thine another [Exeunt Princess and train.

101 Boyet. Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?

Ros.

Shall I teach you to know?

Boyet. Ay, my continent of beauty.

Ros.

Why, she that bears the bow.

Finely put off!

Boyet. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,

105 Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.

Finely put on!

Ros. Well, then, I am the shooter.

Boyet.

And who is your deer?

108 Ros. If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.

Finely put on, indeed!

110 Mar. You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.

Boyet. But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now?

Ros. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit it?

115 Boyet. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit it.

Ros.

Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,

119 Thou canst not hit it, my good man.

Boyet.

120 An I cannot, cannot, cannot,

121 An I cannot, another can. [Exeunt Ros. and Kath.

Cost. By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it!

123 Mar. A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it.

Boyet. A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!

125 Let the mark have a prick in’t, to mete at, if it may be.

Mar. Wide o’ the bow-hand! i’ faith, your hand is out.

Cost. Indeed, a’ must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the clout.

Boyet. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.

129 Cost. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.

130 Mar. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.

Cost. She’s too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl.

Boyet. I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. [Exeunt Boyet and Maria.

Cost. By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown!

Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down!

135 O’ my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit!

When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit.

137 Armado o’ th’ one side,—O, a most dainty man!

To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!

139 To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a’ will swear!

140 And his page o’ t’ other side, that handful of wit!

141 Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!

142 Sola, sola! [Shout-within. [Exit Costard, running.