Love’s Labour’s Lost
ACT I SCENE II | The same. | |
Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit | |
grows melancholy? | ||
MOTH | A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. | 5 |
MOTH | No, no; O Lord, sir, no. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my | |
tender juvenal? | ||
MOTH | By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Why tough senior? why tough senior? | 10 |
MOTH | Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton | |
appertaining to thy young days, which we may | ||
nominate tender. | ||
MOTH | And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your | 15 |
old time, which we may name tough. | ||
DON ADRIANO DEARMADO | Pretty and apt. | |
MOTH | How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or | |
I apt, and my saying pretty? | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Thou pretty, because little. | 20 |
MOTH | Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | And therefore apt, because quick. | |
MOTH | Speak you this in my praise, master? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | In thy condign praise. | |
MOTH | I will praise an eel with the same praise. | 25 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | What, that an eel is ingenious? | |
MOTH | That an eel is quick. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood. | |
MOTH | I am answered, sir. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I love not to be crossed. | 30 |
MOTH | Aside. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I have promised to study three years with the duke. | |
MOTH | You may do it in an hour, sir. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Impossible. | |
MOTH | How many is one thrice told? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. | 35 |
MOTH | You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I confess both: they are both the varnish of a | |
complete man. | ||
MOTH | Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of | |
deuce-ace amounts to. | 40 | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | It doth amount to one more than two. | |
MOTH | Which the base vulgar do call three. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | True. | |
MOTH | Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here | |
is three studied, ere ye’ll thrice wink: and how | 45 | |
easy it is to put ‘years’ to the word ‘three,’ and | ||
study three years in two words, the dancing horse | ||
will tell you. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | A most fine figure! | |
MOTH | To prove you a cipher. | 50 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | 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 would take Desire prisoner, and | 55 | |
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. | 60 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | 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 back | 65 | |
like a porter: and he was in love. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | 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? | 70 | |
MOTH | A woman, master. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Of what complexion? | |
MOTH | Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Tell me precisely of what complexion. | |
MOTH | Of the sea-water green, sir. | 75 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Is that one of the four complexions? | |
MOTH | As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Green indeed is the colour of lovers; but to have a | |
love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason | ||
for it. He surely affected her for her wit. | 80 | |
MOTH | It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | My love is most immaculate white and red. | |
MOTH | Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under | |
such colours. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Define, define, well-educated infant. | 85 |
MOTH | My father’s wit and my mother’s tongue, assist me! | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and | |
pathetical! | ||
MOTH | If she be made of white and red, | |
Her faults will ne’er be known, | 90 | |
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred | ||
And fears by pale white shown: | ||
Then if she fear, or be to blame, | ||
By this you shall not know, | ||
For still her cheeks possess the same | 95 | |
Which native she doth owe. | ||
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of | ||
white and red. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar? | |
MOTH | The world was very guilty of such a ballad some | 100 |
three ages since: but I think now ’tis not to be | ||
found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for | ||
the writing nor the tune. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may | |
example my digression by some mighty precedent. | 105 | |
Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the | ||
park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well. | ||
MOTH | Aside. | |
my master. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love. | |
MOTH | And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench. | 110 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I say, sing. | |
MOTH | Forbear till this company be past. | |
Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA | ||
DULL | Sir, the duke’s pleasure is, that you keep Costard | |
safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight | ||
nor no penance; but a’ must fast three days a week. | 115 | |
For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she | ||
is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I do betray myself with blushing. Maid! | |
JAQUENETTA | Man? | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I will visit thee at the lodge. | 120 |
JAQUENETTA | That’s hereby. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I know where it is situate. | |
JAQUENETTA | Lord, how wise you are! | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I will tell thee wonders. | |
JAQUENETTA | With that face? | 125 |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I love thee. | |
JAQUENETTA | So I heard you say. | |
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | And so, farewell. | |
JAQUENETTA | Fair weather after you! | |
DULL | Come, Jaquenetta, away! | 130 |
Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou | |
be pardoned. | ||
COSTARD | Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a | |
full stomach. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Thou shalt be heavily punished. | 135 |
COSTARD | I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they | |
are but lightly rewarded. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | Take away this villain; shut him up. | |
MOTH | Come, you transgressing slave; away! | |
COSTARD | Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose. | 140 |
MOTH | No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison. | |
COSTARD | Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation | |
that I have seen, some shall see. | ||
MOTH | What shall some see? | |
COSTARD | Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. | 145 |
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. | ||
DONADRIANO DE ARMADO | I do affect the very ground, which is base, where | 150 |
her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which | ||
is basest, 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 a devil: | 155 | |
there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so | ||
tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was | ||
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. | 160 | |
The first and second cause will not serve my turn; | ||
the passado he respects not, the duello he regards | ||
not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his | ||
glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust rapier! | ||
be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea, | 165 | |
he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, | ||
for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit; | ||
write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. | ||
Exit |
Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act 2, Scene 1