Loves Labours Lost | Page 4

in the night
And not be seen to wink of all the day,-- When I was wont to think no
harm all night, And make a dark night too of half the day,-- Which I
hope well is not enrolled there. O! these are barren tasks, too hard to
keep, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.
KING. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.
BEROWNE. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please: I only swore to
study with your Grace, And stay here in your court for three years'
space.
LONGAVILLE. You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest.
BEROWNE. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end
of study? let me know.
KING. Why, that to know which else we should not know.
BEROWNE. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense?
KING. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense.
BEROWNE. Come on, then; I will swear to study so, To know the
thing I am forbid to know, As thus: to study where I well may dine,
When I to feast expressly am forbid; Or study where to meet some
mistress fine, When mistresses from common sense are hid; Or, having
sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, Study to break it, and not break my
troth. If study's gain be thus, and this be so, Study knows that which yet
it doth not know. Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.
KING. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train our

intellects to vain delight.
BEROWNE. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain Which, with
pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain: As painfully to pore upon a book, To
seek the light of truth; while truth the while Doth falsely blind the
eyesight of his look. Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile; So,
ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by
losing of your eyes. Study me how to please the eye indeed, By fixing
it upon a fairer eye; Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed, And
give him light that it was blinded by. Study is like the heaven's glorious
sun, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Small have
continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every
fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that
walk and wot not what they are. Too much to know is to know nought
but fame; And every godfather can give a name.
KING. How well he's read, to reason against reading!
DUMAINE. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding!
LONGAVILLE. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.
BEROWNE. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding.
DUMAINE. How follows that?
BEROWNE. Fit in his place and time.
DUMAINE. In reason nothing.
BEROWNE. Something then in rime.
LONGAVILLE. Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost That bites
the first-born infants of the spring.
BEROWNE. Well, say I am: why should proud summer boast Before
the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's
new-fangled shows; But like of each thing that in season grows; So you,
to study now it is too late, Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate.
KING. Well, sit out; go home, Berowne; adieu.
BEROWNE. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you; And
though I have for barbarism spoke more Than for that angel knowledge
you can say, Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore, And bide the
penance of each three years' day. Give me the paper; let me read the
same; And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name.
KING. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!

BEROWNE. 'Item. That no woman shall come within a mile of my
court.'Hath this been proclaimed?
LONGAVILLE. Four days ago.
BEROWNE. Let's see the penalty. 'On pain of losing her tongue.' Who
devised this penalty?
LONGAVILLE. Marry, that did I.
BEROWNE. Sweet lord, and why?
LONGAVILLE. To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
BEROWNE. A dangerous law against gentility! 'Item. If any man be
seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall
endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.'
This article, my liege, yourself must break; For well you know here
comes in embassy The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak--
A mild of grace and complete majesty-- About surrender up of
Aquitaine To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father: Therefore this article
is