Comparison of William Shakespeare Love's Labour's Lost 1.2 to William Shakespeare

By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signior.

Why tough signior? Why tough signior?

Why tender juvenal? Why tender juvenal?

How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? Or I apt, and my saying pretty?

Thou pretty, because little.

Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?

And therefore apt, because quick.

What? That an eel is ingenious?

That an eel is quick.

I have promised to study three years with the Duke.

I am ill at reck’ning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.

I confess both, they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Then I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied ere ye’ll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put “years” to the word “three,” and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humor of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new devis’d cur’sy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?

Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Sampson, master; he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town gates on his back like a porter; and he was in love.

A woman, master.

Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.

If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne’er be known,

And fears by pale white shown:

Then if she fear, or be to blame,

The world was very guilty of such a ballet some three ages since, but I think now ’tis not to be found; or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.

I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my digression by some mighty president. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves well.

And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.

I say, sing.

Sir, the Duke’s pleasure is that you keep Costard safe, and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance, but ’a must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allow’d for the dey-woman. Fare you well.

I do betray myself with blushing. Maid.

I will visit thee at the lodge.

I know where it is situate.

With that face?

So I heard you say.

Fair weather after you!

I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.

Nay, nothing, Master 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.

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 Sampson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Salomon 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, valor, rust, rapier, be still, drum, for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit, write, pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.