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  • William Shakespeare: Love’s Labor’s Lost, Act I, Scene II

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Scene IIThe sameEnter Don Adriano de Armado and MothDon Adriano de ArmadoBoy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?MothA great sign, sir, that he will look sad.Don Adriano de ArmadoWhy, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.MothNo, no; O Lord, sir, no.Don Adriano de ArmadoHow canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?MothBy a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior.Don Adriano de ArmadoWhy tough senior? why tough senior?MothWhy tender juvenal? why tender juvenal?Don Adriano de ArmadoI spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.MothAnd I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough.Don Adriano de ArmadoPretty and apt.MothHow mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and my saying pretty?Don Adriano de ArmadoThou pretty, because little.MothLittle pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?Don Adriano de ArmadoAnd therefore apt, because quick.MothSpeak you this in my praise, master?Don Adriano de ArmadoIn thy condign praise.MothI will praise an eel with the same praise.Don Adriano de ArmadoWhat, that an eel is ingenious?MothThat an eel is quick.Don Adriano de ArmadoI do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood.MothI am answered, sir.Don Adriano de ArmadoI love not to be crossed.MothAsideHe speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him.Don Adriano de ArmadoI have promised to study three years with the duke.MothYou may do it in an hour, sir.Don Adriano de ArmadoImpossible.MothHow many is one thrice told?Don Adriano de ArmadoI am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.MothYou are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.Don Adriano de ArmadoI confess both: they are both the varnish of a complete man.MothThen, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.Don Adriano de ArmadoIt doth amount to one more than two.MothWhich the base vulgar do call three.Don Adriano de ArmadoTrue.MothWhy, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now 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.Don Adriano de ArmadoA most fine figure!MothTo prove you a cipher.Don Adriano de ArmadoI 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 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?MothHercules, master.Don Adriano de ArmadoMost sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.MothSamson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his back like a porter: and he was in love.Don Adriano de ArmadoO 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?MothA woman, master.Don Adriano de ArmadoOf what complexion?MothOf all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.Don Adriano de ArmadoTell me precisely of what complexion.MothOf the sea-water green, sir.Don Adriano de ArmadoIs that one of the four complexions?MothAs I have read, sir; and the best of them too.Don Adriano de ArmadoGreen 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.MothIt was so, sir; for she had a green wit.Don Adriano de ArmadoMy love is most immaculate white and red.MothMost maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.Don Adriano de ArmadoDefine, define, well-educated infant.MothMy father’s wit and my mother’s tongue, assist me!Don Adriano de ArmadoSweet invocation of a child; most pretty and pathetical!MothIf she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne’er be known, 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 Which native she doth owe.A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.Don Adriano de ArmadoIs there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?MothThe 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 nor the tune.Don Adriano de ArmadoI 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 with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well.MothAsideTo be whipped; and yet a better love than my master.Don Adriano de ArmadoSing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.MothAnd that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.Don Adriano de ArmadoI say, sing.MothForbear till this company be past.Enter Dull, Costard, and JaquenettaDullSir, 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. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.Don Adriano de ArmadoI do betray myself with blushing. Maid!JaquenettaMan?Don Adriano de ArmadoI will visit thee at the lodge.JaquenettaThat’s hereby.Don Adriano de ArmadoI know where it is situate.JaquenettaLord, how wise you are!Don Adriano de ArmadoI will tell thee wonders.JaquenettaWith that face?Don Adriano de ArmadoI love thee.JaquenettaSo I heard you say.Don Adriano de ArmadoAnd so, farewell.JaquenettaFair weather after you!DullCome, Jaquenetta, away!Exeunt Dull and JaquenettaDon Adriano de ArmadoVillain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.CostardWell, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a full stomach.Don Adriano de ArmadoThou shalt be heavily punished.CostardI am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.Don Adriano de ArmadoTake away this villain; shut him up.MothCome, you transgressing slave; away!CostardLet me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose.MothNo, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.CostardWell, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see.MothWhat shall some see?CostardNay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look 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 CostardDon Adriano de ArmadoI do affect the very ground, which is base, where 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: 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. 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, 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

William Shakespeare: Love’s Labor’s Lost, Act I

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William Shakespeare: Love’s Labor’s Lost, Act III

  • William Shakespeare: Love’s Labor’s Lost, Act III

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  • Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
  • The Twelve Dancing Princesses
  • Current Events This Week: January 2023
  • African Americans by the Numbers
  • Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
  • The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales