Love's Labour's Lost: Act 4

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SCENE I. The same

Enter the PRINCESS, and her train, a Forester, BOYET, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE

PRINCESS
Was that the king, that spurred his horse so hard
Against the steep uprising of the hill?

BOYET
I know not; but I think it was not he.

PRINCESS
Whoe'er a' was, a' show'd a mounting mind.
Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch:
On Saturday we will return to France.
Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
That we must stand and play the murderer in?

Forester
Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.

PRINCESS
I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot.

Forester
Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.

PRINCESS
What, what? first praise me and again say no?
O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe!

Forester
Yes, madam, fair.

PRINCESS
Nay, never paint me now:
Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
Here, good my glass, take this for telling true:
Fair payment for foul words is more than due.

Forester
Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.

PRINCESS
See see, my beauty will be saved by merit!
O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill,
And shooting well is then accounted ill.
Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
And out of question so it is sometimes,
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart;
As I for praise alone now seek to spill
The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.

BOYET
Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
Only for praise sake, when they strive to be
Lords o'er their lords?

PRINCESS
Only for praise: and praise we may afford
To any lady that subdues a lord.

BOYET
Here comes a member of the commonwealth.

Enter COSTARD

COSTARD
God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?

PRINCESS
Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.

COSTARD
Which is the greatest lady, the highest?

PRINCESS
The thickest and the tallest.

COSTARD
The thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth.
An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.

PRINCESS
What's your will, sir? what's your will?

COSTARD
I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline.

PRINCESS
O, thy letter, thy letter! he's a good friend of mine:
Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve;
Break up this capon.

BOYET
I am bound to serve.
This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
It is writ to Jaquenetta.

PRINCESS
We will read it, I swear.
Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.

 

 

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