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Act IVScene IThe sameEnter the Princess, and her train, a Forester, Boyet, Rosaline, Maria, and KatharinePrincessWas that the king, that spurred his horse so hard Against the steep uprising of the hill?BoyetI know not; but I think it was not he.PrincessWhoe’er a’ was, a’ show’d a mounting mind. Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch: On Saturday we will return to France. Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush That we must stand and play the murderer in?ForesterHereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice; A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.PrincessI thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, And thereupon thou speak’st the fairest shoot.ForesterPardon me, madam, for I meant not so.PrincessWhat, what? first praise me and again say no? O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe!ForesterYes, madam, fair.PrincessNay, 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.ForesterNothing but fair is that which you inherit.PrincessSee see, my beauty will be saved by merit! O heresy in fair, fit for these days! A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill, And shooting well is then accounted ill. Thus will I save my credit in the shoot: 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. And out of question so it is sometimes, Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, 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 The poor deer’s blood, that my heart means no ill.BoyetDo not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty Only for praise sake, when they strive to be Lords o’er their lords?PrincessOnly for praise: and praise we may afford To any lady that subdues a lord.BoyetHere comes a member of the commonwealth.Enter CostardCostardGod dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?PrincessThou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.CostardWhich is the greatest lady, the highest?PrincessThe thickest and the tallest.CostardThe thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth. An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, One o’ these maids’ girdles for your waist should be fit. Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.PrincessWhat’s your will, sir? what’s your will?CostardI have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline.PrincessO, thy letter, thy letter! he’s a good friend of mine: Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve; Break up this capon.BoyetI am bound to serve. This letter is mistook, it importeth none here; It is writ to Jaquenetta.PrincessWe will read it, I swear. Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.BoyetReadsBy 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 illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, vici; which to annothanize in the vulgar,—O base and obscure vulgar!—videlicet, He came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw 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: what saw he? the beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The conclusion 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 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 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: But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? Food for his rage, repasture for his den.PrincessWhat plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?BoyetI am much deceived but I remember the style.PrincessElse your memory is bad, going o’er it erewhile.BoyetThis Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court; A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport To the prince and his bookmates.PrincessThou fellow, a word: Who gave thee this letter?CostardI told you; my lord.PrincessTo whom shouldst thou give it?CostardFrom my lord to my lady.PrincessFrom which lord to which lady?CostardFrom my lord Biron, a good master of mine, To a lady of France that he call’d Rosaline.PrincessThou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.To RosalineHere, sweet, put up this: ’twill be thine another day.Exeunt Princess and trainBoyetWho is the suitor? who is the suitor?RosalineShall I teach you to know?BoyetAy, my continent of beauty.RosalineWhy, she that bears the bow. Finely put off!BoyetMy lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry, Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry. Finely put on!RosalineWell, then, I am the shooter.BoyetAnd who is your deer?RosalineIf we choose by the horns, yourself come not near. Finely put on, indeed!MariaYou still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the brow.BoyetBut she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now?RosalineShall 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?BoyetSo 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.RosalineThou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, Thou canst not hit it, my good man.BoyetAn I cannot, cannot, cannot, An I cannot, another can.Exeunt Rosaline and KatharineCostardBy my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it!MariaA mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it.BoyetA mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady! Let the mark have a prick in’t, to mete at, if it may be.MariaWide o’ the bow hand! i’ faith, your hand is out.CostardIndeed, a’ must shoot nearer, or he’ll ne’er hit the clout.BoyetAn if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.CostardThen will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.MariaCome, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.CostardShe’s too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl.BoyetI fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.Exeunt Boyet and MariaCostardBy my soul, a swain! a most simple clown! Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down! O’ my troth, most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit! When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit. Armado o’ th’ one side,—O, a most dainty man! To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan! To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a’ will swear! And his page o’ t’ other side, that handful of wit! Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit! Sola, sola!Shout withinExit Costard, running

Love’s Labor’s Lost

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

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

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

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Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

  • 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