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Love’s Labour’s Lost: Act 3, Scene 1

Love’s Labour’s Lost
Act 3, Scene 1

Scene 1

The King of Navarre’s park.

  1. Enter Braggart Armado and his Boy Moth.

Armado

2
  1. Warble, child, make passionate my sense of hearing.

Moth

3 - 4
  1. Sings the song.
  2. Concolinel.”

Armado

5
  1. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years, take this key, give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither. I must employ him in a letter to my love.

Moth

6
  1. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?

Armado

7
  1. How meanest thou? Brawling in French?

Moth

8
  1. No, my complete master, but to jig off a tune at the tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humor it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you swallow’d love with singing love, sometime through the nose, as if you snuff’d up love by smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the shop of your eyes; with your arms cross’d on your thin-bellied doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket like a man after the old painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away: these are complements, these are humors, these betray nice wenches that would be betray’d without these; and make them men of notedo you note?—men that most are affected to these.

Armado

9
  1. How hast thou purchased this experience?

Moth

10
  1. By my penny of observation.

Armado

11
  1. But Obut O

Moth

12
  1. The hobby-horse is forgot.”

Armado

13
  1. Call’st thou my love hobby-horse”?

Moth

14 - 17
  1. No, master, the hobby-horse is but a colt,
  2. Aside.
  3. and your love perhaps a hackney.—
  4. But have you forgot your love?

Armado

18
  1. Almost I had.

Moth

19
  1. Negligent student, learn her by heart.

Armado

20
  1. By heart and in heart, boy.

Moth

21
  1. And out of heart, master; all those three I will prove.

Armado

22
  1. What wilt thou prove?

Moth

23 - 27
  1. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without,” upon the
  2. instant: by heart you love her, because your heart cannot
  3. come by her; in heart you love her, because your heart is in
  4. love with her; and out of heart you love her, being out of
  5. heart that you cannot enjoy her.

Armado

28
  1. I am all these three.

Moth

29 - 31
  1. And three times as much more
  2. Aside.
  3. and yet nothing at all.

Armado

32
  1. Fetch hither the swain, he must carry me a letter.

Moth

33 - 34
  1. A message well sympathiz’da horse to be ambassador for an
  2. ass.

Armado

35
  1. Ha, ha? What sayest thou?

Moth

36 - 37
  1. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is
  2. very slow-gaited. But I go.

Armado

38
  1. The way is but short, away!

Moth

39
  1. As swift as lead, sir.

Armado

40 - 41
  1. The meaning, pretty ingenious?
  2. Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?

Moth

42
  1. Minime, honest master, or rather, master, no.

Armado

43
  1. I say lead is slow.

Moth

44 - 45
  1.                     You are too swift, sir, to say so.
  2. Is that lead slow which is fir’d from a gun?

Armado

46 - 48
  1. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
  2. He reputes me a cannon, and the bullet, that’s he;
  3. I shoot thee at the swain.

Moth

49
  1.                            Thump then, and I flee.
  1. Exit.

Armado

51 - 54
  1. A most acute juvenal, volable and free of grace!
  2. By thy favor, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:
  3. Most rude melancholy, valor gives thee place.
  4. My herald is return’d.
  1. Enter Page Moth and Clown Costard.

Moth

56
  1. A wonder, master! Here’s a costard broken in a shin.

Armado

57
  1. Some enigma, some riddlecome, thy l’envoibegin.

Costard

58 - 60
  1. No egma, no riddle, no l’envoi, no salve in the mail, sir. O
  2. sir, plantan, a plain plantan; no l’envoi, no l’envoi, no
  3. salve, sir, but a plantan!

Armado

61 - 64
  1. By virtue thou enforcest laughterthy silly thought, my
  2. spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous
  3. smilingO, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take
  4. salve for l’envoi, and the word l’envoi for a salve?

Moth

65
  1. Do the wise think them other? Is not l’envoi a salve?

Armado

66 - 71
  1. No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
  2. Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
  3. I will example it:
  4. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
  5. Were still at odds, being but three.
  6. There’s the moral. Now the l’envoi.

Moth

72
  1. I will add the l’envoi. Say the moral again.

Armado

73 - 74
  1. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
  2. Were still at odds, being but three.

Moth

75 - 79
  1. Until the goose came out of door,
  2. And stayed the odds by adding four.
  3. Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l’envoi:
  4. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
  5. Were still at odds, being but three.

Armado

80 - 81
  1. Until the goose came out of door,
  2. Staying the odds by adding four.

Moth

82
  1. A good l’envoi, ending in the goose; would you desire more?

Costard

83 - 86
  1. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that’s flat.
  2. Sir, your pennyworth is good, and your goose be fat.
  3. To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose:
  4. Let me see: a fat l’envoiay, that’s a fat goose.

Armado

87
  1. Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?

Moth

88 - 89
  1. By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
  2. Then call’d you for the l’envoi.

Costard

90 - 92
  1. True, and I for a plantan; thus came your argument in;
  2. Then the boy’s fat l’envoi, the goose that you bought,
  3. And he ended the market.

Armado

93
  1. But tell me, how was there a costard broken in a shin?

Moth

94
  1. I will tell you sensibly.

Costard

95 - 97
  1. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth. I will speak that l’envoi:
  2. I, Costard, running out that was safely within,
  3. Fell over the threshold, and broke my shin.

Armado

98
  1. We will talk no more of this matter.

Costard

99
  1. Till there be more matter in the shin.

Armado

100
  1. Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.

Costard

101 - 102
  1. O, marry me to one Frances! I smell some l’envoi, some
  2. goose, in this.

Armado

103 - 105
  1. By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty,
  2. enfreedoming thy person: thou wert immured, restrained,
  3. captivated, bound.

Costard

106 - 107
  1. True, true, and now you will be my purgation and let me
  2. loose.

Armado

108 - 114
  1. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance, and in lieu
  2. thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this
  3. significant
  4. Giving a letter
  5. to the country maid Jaquenetta. There is remuneration, for
  6. the best ward of mine honor is rewarding my dependents.
  7. Moth, follow.

Moth

115
  1. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
  1. Exit Armado, followed by Moth.

Costard

117 - 124
  1. My sweet ounce of man’s flesh, my incony Jew!
  2. Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that’s
  3. the Latin word for three farthings: three
  4. farthingsremuneration. What’s the price of this
  5. inkle?”—“One penny.”—“No, I’ll give you a remuneration”:
  6. why, it carries it. Remuneration: why, it is a fairer name
  7. than French crown! I will never buy and sell out of this
  8. word.
  1. Enter Berowne.

Berowne

126
  1. O, my good knave Costard, exceedingly well met!

Costard

127
  1. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for a remuneration?

Berowne

128
  1. O, what is a remuneration?

Costard

129
  1. Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.

Berowne

130
  1. O, why then three-farthing worth of silk.

Costard

131
  1. I thank your worship, God be wi’ you!

Berowne

132 - 134
  1. O, stay, slave; I must employ thee.
  2. As thou wilt win my favor, good my knave,
  3. Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

Costard

135
  1. When would you have it done, sir?

Berowne

136
  1. O, this afternoon.

Costard

137
  1. Well, I will do it, sir; fare you well.

Berowne

138
  1. O, thou knowest not what it is.

Costard

139
  1. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.

Berowne

140
  1. Why, villain, thou must know first.

Costard

141
  1. I will come to your worship tomorrow morning.

Berowne

142 - 148
  1. It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, it is but this:
  2. The Princess comes to hunt here in the park,
  3. And in her train there is a gentle lady:
  4. When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
  5. And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her,
  6. And to her white hand see thou do commend
  7. This seal’d-up counsel. There’s thy guerdon; go.

Costard

149 - 151
  1. Garden, O sweet gardon! Better than remuneration,
  2. eleven-pence-farthing better; most sweet gardon! I will do
  3. it, sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration!
  1. Exit.

Berowne

153 - 184
  1. O, and I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love’s whip,
  2. A very beadle to a humorous sigh,
  3. A critic, nay, a night-watch constable,
  4. A domineering pedant o’er the boy,
  5. Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
  6. This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
  7. This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid,
  8. Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
  9. Th’ anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
  10. Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
  11. Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
  12. Sole imperator and great general
  13. Of trotting paritors (O my little heart!),
  14. And I to be a corporal of his field,
  15. And wear his colors like a tumbler’s hoop!
  16. What! I love, I sue, I seek a wife
  17. A woman, that is like a German clock,
  18. Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
  19. And never going aright, being a watch,
  20. But being watch’d that it may still go right!
  21. Nay, to be perjur’d, which is worst of all;
  22. And among three to love the worst of all,
  23. A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
  24. With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
  25. Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed
  26. Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard.
  27. And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
  28. To pray for her, go to! It is a plague
  29. That Cupid will impose for my neglect
  30. Of his almighty dreadful little might.
  31. Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, groan:
  32. Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.
  1. Exit.
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