Love's Labour's Lost by William Shakespeare

Act 2 - Scene 1

The same.

Boyet : Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits: [p]Consider who the king
your father sends, [p]To whom he sends, and what's his
embassy: [p]Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, [p]To
parley with the sole inheritor [p]Of all perfections that a man may
owe, [p]Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight [p]Than
Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen. [p]Be now as prodigal of all dear
grace [p]As Nature was in making graces dear [p]When she did starve
the general world beside [p]And prodigally gave them all to you.

Princess of France : Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, [p]Needs not the painted
flourish of your praise: [p]Beauty is bought by judgement of the
eye, [p]Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues: [p]I am less
proud to hear you tell my worth [p]Than you much willing to be counted
wise [p]In spending your wit in the praise of mine. [p]But now to task
the tasker: good Boyet, [p]You are not ignorant, all-telling
fame [p]Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow, [p]Till painful
study shall outwear three years, [p]No woman may approach his silent
court: [p]Therefore to's seemeth it a needful course, [p]Before we
enter his forbidden gates, [p]To know his pleasure; and in that
behalf, [p]Bold of your worthiness, we single you [p]As our
best-moving fair solicitor. [p]Tell him, the daughter of the King of
France, [p]On serious business, craving quick dispatch, [p]Importunes
personal conference with his grace: [p]Haste, signify so much; while
we attend, [p]Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will.

Boyet : Proud of employment, willingly I go.

Princess of France : All pride is willing pride, and yours is so. [p][Exit BOYET] [p]Who
are the votaries, my loving lords, [p]That are vow-fellows with this
virtuous duke?

First Lord : Lord Longaville is one.

Princess of France : Know you the man?

Maria : I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast, [p]Between Lord Perigort and
the beauteous heir [p]Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized [p]In
Normandy, saw I this Longaville: [p]A man of sovereign parts he is
esteem'd; [p]Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: [p]Nothing becomes
him ill that he would well. [p]The only soil of his fair virtue's
gloss, [p]If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil, [p]Is a sharp
wit matched with too blunt a will; [p]Whose edge hath power to cut,
whose will still wills [p]It should none spare that come within his
power.

Princess of France : Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?

Maria : They say so most that most his humours know.

Princess of France : Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. [p]Who are the rest?

Katharine : The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth, [p]Of all that virtue
love for virtue loved: [p]Most power to do most harm, least knowing
ill; [p]For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, [p]And shape to win
grace though he had no wit. [p]I saw him at the Duke Alencon's
once; [p]And much too little of that good I saw [p]Is my report to his
great worthiness.

Rosaline : Another of these students at that time [p]Was there with him, if I
have heard a truth. [p]Biron they call him; but a merrier
man, [p]Within the limit of becoming mirth, [p]I never spent an hour's
talk withal: [p]His eye begets occasion for his wit; [p]For every
object that the one doth catch [p]The other turns to a mirth-moving
jest, [p]Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, [p]Delivers in
such apt and gracious words [p]That aged ears play truant at his
tales [p]And younger hearings are quite ravished; [p]So sweet and
voluble is his discourse.

Princess of France : God bless my ladies! are they all in love, [p]That every one her own
hath garnished [p]With such bedecking ornaments of praise?

First Lord : Here comes Boyet.

Princess of France : Now, what admittance, lord?

Boyet : Navarre had notice of your fair approach; [p]And he and his
competitors in oath [p]Were all address'd to meet you, gentle
lady, [p]Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt: [p]He rather
means to lodge you in the field, [p]Like one that comes here to
besiege his court, [p]Than seek a dispensation for his oath, [p]To let
you enter his unpeopled house. [p]Here comes Navarre. [p][Enter
FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and] [p]Attendants]

Ferdinand : Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.

Princess of France : 'Fair' I give you back again; and 'welcome' I have [p]not yet: the
roof of this court is too high to be [p]yours; and welcome to the wide
fields too base to be mine.

Ferdinand : You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.

Princess of France : I will be welcome, then: conduct me thither.

Ferdinand : Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath.

Princess of France : Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn.

Ferdinand : Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.

Princess of France : Why, will shall break it; will and nothing else.

Ferdinand : Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.

Princess of France : Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, [p]Where now his knowledge
must prove ignorance. [p]I hear your grace hath sworn out
house-keeping: [p]Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, [p]And
sin to break it. [p]But pardon me. I am too sudden-bold: [p]To teach a
teacher ill beseemeth me. [p]Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my
coming, [p]And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

Ferdinand : Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.

Princess of France : You will the sooner, that I were away; [p]For you'll prove perjured if
you make me stay.

Biron : Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Rosaline : Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?

Biron : I know you did.

Rosaline : How needless was it then to ask the question!

Biron : You must not be so quick.

Rosaline : 'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions.

Biron : Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.

Rosaline : Not till it leave the rider in the mire.

Biron : What time o' day?

Rosaline : The hour that fools should ask.

Biron : Now fair befall your mask!

Rosaline : Fair fall the face it covers!

Biron : And send you many lovers!

Rosaline : Amen, so you be none.

Biron : Nay, then will I be gone.

Ferdinand : Madam, your father here doth intimate [p]The payment of a hundred
thousand crowns; [p]Being but the one half of an entire
sum [p]Disbursed by my father in his wars. [p]But say that he or we,
as neither have, [p]Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid [p]A
hundred thousand more; in surety of the which, [p]One part of
Aquitaine is bound to us, [p]Although not valued to the money's
worth. [p]If then the king your father will restore [p]But that one
half which is unsatisfied, [p]We will give up our right in
Aquitaine, [p]And hold fair friendship with his majesty. [p]But that,
it seems, he little purposeth, [p]For here he doth demand to have
repaid [p]A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands, [p]On payment of
a hundred thousand crowns, [p]To have his title live in
Aquitaine; [p]Which we much rather had depart withal [p]And have the
money by our father lent [p]Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is. [p]Dear
Princess, were not his requests so far [p]From reason's yielding, your
fair self should make [p]A yielding 'gainst some reason in my
breast [p]And go well satisfied to France again.

Princess of France : You do the king my father too much wrong [p]And wrong the reputation
of your name, [p]In so unseeming to confess receipt [p]Of that which
hath so faithfully been paid.

Ferdinand : I do protest I never heard of it; [p]And if you prove it, I'll repay
it back [p]Or yield up Aquitaine.

Princess of France : We arrest your word. [p]Boyet, you can produce acquittances [p]For
such a sum from special officers [p]Of Charles his father.

Ferdinand : Satisfy me so.

Boyet : So please your grace, the packet is not come [p]Where that and other
specialties are bound: [p]To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.

Ferdinand : It shall suffice me: at which interview [p]All liberal reason I will
yield unto. [p]Meantime receive such welcome at my hand [p]As honour
without breach of honour may [p]Make tender of to thy true
worthiness: [p]You may not come, fair princess, in my gates; [p]But
here without you shall be so received [p]As you shall deem yourself
lodged in my heart, [p]Though so denied fair harbour in my
house. [p]Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell: [p]To-morrow
shall we visit you again.

Princess of France : Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace!

Ferdinand : Thy own wish wish I thee in every place!

Biron : Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.

Rosaline : Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.

Biron : I would you heard it groan.

Rosaline : Is the fool sick?

Biron : Sick at the heart.

Rosaline : Alack, let it blood.

Biron : Would that do it good?

Rosaline : My physic says 'ay.'

Biron : Will you prick't with your eye?

Rosaline : No point, with my knife.

Biron : Now, God save thy life!

Rosaline : And yours from long living!

Biron : I cannot stay thanksgiving.

Dumain : Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?

Boyet : The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.

Dumain : A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well.

Longaville : I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?

Boyet : A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.

Longaville : Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.

Boyet : She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.

Longaville : Pray you, sir, whose daughter?

Boyet : Her mother's, I have heard.

Longaville : God's blessing on your beard!

Boyet : Good sir, be not offended. [p]She is an heir of Falconbridge.

Longaville : Nay, my choler is ended. [p]She is a most sweet lady.

Boyet : Not unlike, sir, that may be.

Biron : What's her name in the cap?

Boyet : Rosaline, by good hap.

Biron : Is she wedded or no?

Boyet : To her will, sir, or so.

Biron : You are welcome, sir: adieu.

Boyet : Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.

Maria : That last is Biron, the merry madcap lord: [p]Not a word with him but
a jest.

Boyet : And every jest but a word.

Princess of France : It was well done of you to take him at his word.

Boyet : I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.

Maria : Two hot sheeps, marry.

Boyet : And wherefore not ships? [p]No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on
your lips.

Maria : You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest?

Boyet : So you grant pasture for me.

Maria : Not so, gentle beast: [p]My lips are no common, though several they
be.

Boyet : Belonging to whom?

Maria : To my fortunes and me.

Princess of France : Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree: [p]This civil war of
wits were much better used [p]On Navarre and his book-men; for here
'tis abused.

Boyet : If my observation, which very seldom lies, [p]By the heart's still
rhetoric disclosed with eyes, [p]Deceive me not now, Navarre is
infected.

Princess of France : With what?

Boyet : With that which we lovers entitle affected.

Princess of France : Your reason?

Boyet : Why, all his behaviors did make their retire [p]To the court of his
eye, peeping thorough desire: [p]His heart, like an agate, with your
print impress'd, [p]Proud with his form, in his eye pride
express'd: [p]His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, [p]Did
stumble with haste in his eyesight to be; [p]All senses to that sense
did make their repair, [p]To feel only looking on fairest of
fair: [p]Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye, [p]As jewels
in crystal for some prince to buy; [p]Who, tendering their own worth
from where they were glass'd, [p]Did point you to buy them, along as
you pass'd: [p]His face's own margent did quote such amazes [p]That
all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes. [p]I'll give you Aquitaine
and all that is his, [p]An you give him for my sake but one loving
kiss.

Princess of France : Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed.

Boyet : But to speak that in words which his eye hath [p]disclosed. [p]I only
have made a mouth of his eye, [p]By adding a tongue which I know will
not lie.

Rosaline : Thou art an old love-monger and speakest skilfully.

Maria : He is Cupid's grandfather and learns news of him.

Rosaline : Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is but grim.

Boyet : Do you hear, my mad wenches?

Maria : No.

Boyet : What then, do you see?

Rosaline : Ay, our way to be gone.

Boyet : You are too hard for me.

Previous: Act 1 - Scene 2

Next: Act 3 - Scene 1

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