Loves Labours Lost | Page 8

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 COSTARD.]
ARMADO. I 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
rime, for I am sure I shall turn sonneter. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I
am for whole volumes in folio.
[Exit.]

ACT II.
SCENE II. The King of Navarre's park. A pavilion and tents at a
distance.
[Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, ROSALINE, MARIA,
KATHARINE, BOYET, LORDS, and other Attendants.]
BOYET. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits: Consider who
the king your father sends, To whom he sends, and what's his embassy:
Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, To parley with the sole
inheritor Of all perfections that a man may owe, Matchless Navarre; the
plea of no less weight Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen. Be now as
prodigal of all dear grace As Nature was in making graces dear When
she did starve the general world beside, And prodigally gave them all
to you.
PRINCESS. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not
the painted flourish of your praise: Beauty is bought by judgment of the
eye, Not utt'red by base sale of chapmen's tongues. I am less proud to
hear you tell my worth Than you much willing to be counted wise In
spending your wit in the praise of mine. But now to task the tasker:
good Boyet, You are not ignorant, all-telling fame Doth noise abroad,
Navarre hath made a vow, Till painful study shall outwear three years,
No woman may approach his silent court: Therefore to's seemeth it a
needful course, Before we enter his forbidden gates, To know his
pleasure; and in that behalf, Bold of your worthiness, we single you As
our best-moving fair solicitor. Tell him the daughter of the King of

France, On serious business, craving quick dispatch, Importunes
personal conference with his Grace. Haste, signify so much; while we
attend, Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.
BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
PRINCESS. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.
[Exit BOYET.]
Who are the votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this
virtuous duke?
FIRST LORD. Lord Longaville is one.
PRINCESS. Know you the man?
MARIA. I know him, madam: at a marriage feast, Between Lord
Perigort and the beauteous heir Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized In
Normandy, saw I this Longaville. A man of sovereign parts, he is
esteem'd, Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill
that he would well. The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,-- If virtue's
gloss will stain with any soil,-- Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a
will; Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills It should
none spare that come within his power.
PRINCESS. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?
MARIA. They say so most that most his humours know.
PRINCESS. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow. Who are the
rest?
KATHARINE. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth, Of all
that virtue love for virtue lov'd; Most power to do most harm, least
knowing ill, For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, And shape to
win grace though he had no wit. I saw him at the Duke Alencon's once;
And much too little of that good I saw Is my report to his great
worthiness.
ROSALINE. Another of these students at that time Was there with him,
if I have heard a truth: Berowne they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal.
His eye begets occasion for his wit, For every object that the one doth
catch The other turns