Love's Labour's Lost Part 8

KING. In love, I hope; sweet fellowship in shame!

BEROWNE. One drunkard loves another of the name.

LONGAVILLE. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?

BEROWNE. I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know; Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of Love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.

LONGAVILLE. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move.

O sweet Maria, empress of my love!

These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.

BEROWNE. O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose: Disfigure not his slop.

LONGAVILLE. This same shall go. [He reads the sonnet]

'Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.

A woman I forswore; but I will prove, Thou being a G.o.ddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love; Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.

Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is; Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, Exhal'st this vapour-vow; in thee it is.

If broken, then it is no fault of mine; If by me broke, what fool is not so wise To lose an oath to win a paradise?'

BEROWNE. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity, A green goose a G.o.ddess- pure, pure idolatry.

G.o.d amend us, G.o.d amend! We are much out o' th' way.

Enter DUMAIN, with a paper

LONGAVILLE. By whom shall I send this?- Company! Stay.

[Steps aside]

BEROWNE. 'All hid, all hid'- an old infant play.

Like a demiG.o.d here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye.

More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish!

Dumain transformed! Four woodc.o.c.ks in a dish!

DUMAIN. O most divine Kate!

BEROWNE. O most profane c.o.xcomb!

DUMAIN. By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!

BEROWNE. By earth, she is not, corporal: there you lie.

DUMAIN. Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted.

BEROWNE. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.

DUMAIN. As upright as the cedar.

BEROWNE. Stoop, I say; Her shoulder is with child.

DUMAIN. As fair as day.

BEROWNE. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine.

DUMAIN. O that I had my wish!

LONGAVILLE. And I had mine!

KING. And I mine too, good Lord!

BEROWNE. Amen, so I had mine! Is not that a good word?

DUMAIN. I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will rememb'red be.

BEROWNE. A fever in your blood? Why, then incision Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!

DUMAIN. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.

BEROWNE. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit.

DUMAIN. [Reads]

'On a day-alack the day!- Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom pa.s.sing fair Playing in the wanton air.

Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen, can pa.s.sage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.

"Air," quoth he "thy cheeks may blow; Air, would I might triumph so!

But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn; Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.

Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee; Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were; And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for thy love."'

This will I send; and something else more plain That shall express my true love's fasting pain.

O, would the King, Berowne and Longaville, Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note; For none offend where all alike do dote.

LONGAVILLE. [Advancing] Dumain, thy love is far from charity, That in love's grief desir'st society; You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, To be o'erheard and taken napping so.

KING. [Advancing] Come, sir, you blush; as his, your case is such.

You chide at him, offending twice as much: You do not love Maria! Longaville Did never sonnet for her sake compile; Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart His loving bosom, to keep down his heart.

I have been closely shrouded in this bush, And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.

I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your pa.s.sion.

'Ay me!' says one. 'O Jove!' the other cries.

One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other's eyes.

[To LONGAVILLE] You would for paradise break faith and troth; [To DUMAIN] And Jove for your love would infringe an oath.

What will Berowne say when that he shall hear Faith infringed which such zeal did swear?

How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit!

How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it!

For all the wealth that ever I did see, I would not have him know so much by me.

BEROWNE. [Descending] Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy, Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me.

Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove These worms for loving, that art most in love?

Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears There is no certain princess that appears; You'll not be perjur'd; 'tis a hateful thing; Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting.

But are you not ashamed? Nay, are you not, All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?

You found his mote; the King your mote did see; But I a beam do find in each of three.

O, what a scene of fool'ry have I seen, Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!

O, me, with what strict patience have I sat, To see a king transformed to a gnat!

To see great Hercules whipping a gig, And profound Solomon to tune a jig, And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!

Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?

And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?

And where my liege's? All about the breast.

A caudle, ho!

KING. Too bitter is thy jest.

Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view?

BEROWNE. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you.

I that am honest, I that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in; I am betrayed by keeping company With men like you, men of inconstancy.

When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?

Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time In pruning me? When shall you hear that I Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, A leg, a limb- KING. Soft! whither away so fast?

A true man or a thief that gallops so?

BEROWNE. I post from love; good lover, let me go.

Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD

JAQUENETTA. G.o.d bless the King!

KING. What present hast thou there?

COSTARD. Some certain treason.

KING. What makes treason here?

COSTARD. Nay, it makes nothing, sir.

KING. If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together.

JAQUENETTA. I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read; Our person mis...o...b..s it: 'twas treason, he said.

KING. Berowne, read it over. [BEROWNE reads the letter]

Where hadst thou it?

JAQUENETTA. Of Costard.

KING. Where hadst thou it?

COSTARD. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.

[BEROWNE tears the letter]

KING. How now! What is in you? Why dost thou tear it?