Love's Labour's Lost (1985) - full transcript

[dramatic music]

Let fame, that all hunt
after in their lives,

live registered upon our brazen tombs.

And then grace us in
the disgrace of death.

When, spite of cormorant devouring time,

the endeavor of this
present breath may buy

that honor that shall bate
his scythe's keen edge

and make us heirs of all eternity.

Therefore brave conquerors for so you are

that war against your own affections

and the huge army of the world's desires.



Our late edict shall
strongly stand in force.

Navarre shall be the wonder of the world.

Our court shall be a little academe,

still and contemplative in living art.

You three, Biron, Dumain and Longaville,

have sworn for three years'
term to live with me,

my fellow scholars and
to keep those statutes

that are recorded in this schedule here.

Your oaths are passed and
now subscribe your names,

that his own hand may
strike his honor down

that violates the smallest branch herein.

If you are armed to do as sworn to do

subscribe to your deep
oaths and keep it too.

I am resolved.



'Tis but a three years' fast.

The mind shall banquet
though the body pine.

My loving lord, Dumain is mortified.

The grosser manner of
these world's delights

he throws upon the gross
world's baser slaves.

To love, to wealth, to
pomp, I pine and die

with all these living in philosophy.

I can but say their protestation over

so much, dear liege, I've already sworn,

that is to live and
study here three years.

But there are other strict observances

as not to see a woman in that term,

which I hope well is not enrolled there.

And one day in a week to touch no food

and but one meal on every day beside,

the which I hope is not enrolled there.

And then to sleep but
three hours 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.

Oh these are barren
tasks, too hard to keep.

Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep!

[Ferdinand] Your oath is
passed to pass away from these.

Let me say no my liege and if you please

I only swore to study with your grace

and stay here in your court
for three years' space.

You swore to that Biron and to the rest.

By yea and nay sir, then I swore in jest.

What is the end of study, let me know.

Why that to know which
else we should not know.

Things hid and barred, you
mean, from common sense.

Ay that is study's godlike recompense.

Come on then, I'll 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'll ne'er say no.

[Ferdinand] These be the
stops that hinder study quite

and train our intellects to vain delight.

Why all delights are
vain, but that most vain,

which with pain purchased
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.

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
what not what they are.

Too much to know is to
know nought but fame

and every godfather can give a name.

[Ferdinand] How well he's read,
to reason against reading!

Proceeded well to stop
all good proceeding.

[Ferdinand] Well, sit you out.

Go home, Biron.

Adieu.

No my good lord, I've
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've swore

and bide the penance of
each three years' day.

Give me the paper, let me read the same

and to the strictest
decree I'll write my name.

[Ferdinand] How well this yielding

rescues thee from shame!

Item, that no woman shall come
within a mile of my court.

Hath this been proclaimed?

Four days ago.

Let's see the penalty.

On pain of losing her tongue.

Who devised this penalty?

Marry, that did I.

Sweet lord and why?

To fright them hence
with that dread penalty.

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 maid of grace and complete majesty

about surrender up of Aquitaine

to her decrepit, sick and bedrid father.

What say you lords, why
this was quite forgot.

So study evermore is overshot.

We must of force dispense
with this decree,

she must lie here on mere necessity.

Necessity will make us all forsworn

3000 times within this three years' space.

If I break faith this
word shall speak for me.

I am forsworn on mere necessity.

So to the laws at large I write my name.

And he that breaks them
in the least degree

stands in attainder of eternal shame.

Suggestions are to other as to me

but I believe, although I seem so loath,

I'm the last that will last keep his oath.

But is there no quick recreation granted?

Ay that there is.

Our court, you know, is haunted

with a refined traveler of Spain.

A man in all the world's
new fashion planted

that hath a mint of phrases in his brain.

One whom the music of his own vain tongue

doth ravish like enchanting harmony.

A man of complements, whom right and wrong

have chose as umpire of their mutiny.

This child of fancy, that Armado hight,

for interim to our studies shall relate

in high-born words the
worth of many a knight

from tawny Spain lost
in the world's debate.

How you delight, my lords, I know not I,

but I protest I love to hear him lie.

And I will use him for my minstrelsy.

[gentle music]

Boy what sign is it when
a man of great spirit

grows melancholy?

A great sign sir that he will look sad.

Why sadness is one and the
self-same thing, dear imp.

No, no, oh Lord sir, no.

How canst thou part
sadness and melancholy,

my tender juvenile?

By a familiar demonstration
of the working,

my tough senior.

-Why tough senior?
-Why tender juvenile?

-Why tough senior?
-Why tender juvenile?

I spoke it, tender juvenile,
as a congruent epitheton

appertaining to thy young days

which we may nominate tender.

And I, tough senior,
as an appertinent title

to your old time, which we may name tough.

Pretty apt.

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.

Speak you this in my praise, master?

In thy condign praise.

I will praise an eel with the same praise.

What, that an eel is ingenious?

That an eel is quick.

I do say thou art quick in
answers, thou heats my blood.

I am answered, sir.

I love not to be crossed.

You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.

I confess both, they
are both the varnish of

the complete man.

I have promised to study
three years with the duke.

But I 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 affections

would deliver me from the
reprobate thought of it

I would take desire
prisoner and ransom him

to any French courtier
for a new devised curtsy.

I think scorned to sigh.

Me thinks I should out swear Cupid.

Comfort me boy.

What great men have been in love?

Hercules master.

Oh most sweet Hercules.

More authority dear boy,
name more and sweet my child.

Make them men of good repute and carriage.

Samson 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.

Oh well-knit Samson!

Strong-jointed Samson!

I do excel thee in my
rapier as thou didst me

in carrying gates.

I am in love too.

Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth?

A woman, master.

Of what complexion?

Of the seawater green, sir.

Is that one of the four complexions?

As I have read sir and
the best of them too.

I do love that country girl
that I took in the park

with the rational hind Costard.

She deserves well.

My spirit grows heavy in love.

[gentle music]

[bell ringing]

A letter from the magnificent Armado.

How low soever the matter, I
hope in God for high words.

A high hope for a low heaven.

God grant us patience!

To hear or forebear hearing.

The matter is to me sir
as concerning Jaquenetta.

The manner of it is, I
was taken with the manner.

In what manner?

In manner and form following sir.

All those three.

I was seen with her in the manor house,

sitting with her upon the form

and taken following her into
the park which, put together,

is in manner and form following.

Now sir, for the manner.

It is the manner of a
man to speak to a woman

for the form in some form.

And for the following sir?

As it shall follow in my correction

and God defend the right!

Will you hear this letter with attention.

As we would hear an oracle.

Such is the simplicity of man
to hearken after the flesh.

Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent

and sole dominator of Navarre,
my soul's earth's god,

and body's fostering patron.

Not a word of Costard yet.

So it is--

It may be so but if he
say it is so, he is,

in telling true, but so.

Peace.

Be to me and every man
that dares not fight!

No words.

Of other men's secrets.

I beseech you.

So it is, besieged with
sable-colored melancholy,

I did commend the black-oppressing humor

to the most wholesome physic
of thy health-giving air.

And, as I am a gentleman,
betook myself to walk.

The time when, about the sixth hour,

when beasts most graze, birds
best peck and men sit down

to that nourishment which is called

-Dinner.
-supper.

Supper, supper!

So much for the time when.

Now for the ground which,

which I mean, I walked upon.

It is yclept thy park.

Then for the place

Where!

Where, I mean, I did
encounter that obscene

and most preposterous event

that draweth from my snow-white
pen the ebon-colored ink,

which here thou viewest,
beholdest, surveyest, or

-Seest.
-seest.

But to the place where.

It standeth north-north-east and by east

from the west colored corner

of thy curious knotted garden.

There did I see that low-spirited swain,

that base minnow of thy mirth--

-Who?
-Me.

That unlettered small knowing soul.

Me?

That shallow vassal.

Still me?

Which as I remember hight Costard.

[Costard] Ah me.

sorted and consorted,

contrary to thy established
proclaimed edict

and continent canon, which with, oh with,

but with this I passion to say wherewith--

With a wench.

With a child of our grandmother Eve.

A female.

Or for thy more sweet
understanding, a woman.

Him I, as my ever-esteemed
duty pricks me on,

have sent to thee, to receive
the meed of punishment

by thy sweet grace's
officer, Anthony Dull,

a man of good repute, carriage,
bearing and estimation.

Me, an't shall please
you, I am Anthony Dull.

For Jaquenetta, so is
the weaker vessel called

which I apprehended with
the aforesaid swain,

I keep her as a vessel of
thy law's fury and shall,

at the least of thy sweet notice,

bring her to trial.

Thine in all compliments of
devoted and heart-burning

heat of duty, Don Adriano de Armado.

This is not so well as I looked for,

but the best that ever I heard.

Ay, the best for the worst.

But sirrah, what say you to this?

Sir I confess the wench.

Did you hear the proclamation?

I do confess much of the hearing it

but little of the marking of it.

It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment

to be taken with a wench.

I was taken with none sir,
I was taken with a damsel.

Well it was proclaimed damsel.

This was no damsel neither
sir, she was a virgin.

It is so varied too for
it was proclaimed virgin.

If it were I deny her virginity.

I was taken with a maid.

This maid will not serve your turn sir.

This maid will serve my turn sir.

Sir I will pronounce your sentence.

You will fast a week with bran and water.

I'd rather pray a month a
month with mutton and porridge.

And Don Armado shall be your keeper.

My Lord Biron, see him delivered to him.

[bell ringing]

[door banging]

Sir, sir.

Sir the duke's pleasure is
that you keep Costard safe

and you must suffer him to take
no delight, nor no penance.

But must fast three days a week.

For this damsel, I must
keep her at the park.

She is allowed for the day woman.

Fare-you-well.

I do betray myself with blushing.

Maid!

Man.

I will visit thee at the lodge.

That's hereby.

I know where it is situate.

Lord how wise you are.

I will tell thee wonders.

With that face.

I love thee.

So I heard you say.

And so farewell.

Fare weather after you.

Come Jaquenetta, away

Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offenses

ere thou be pardoned.

Well sir, I hope when I do it

I shall do it on a full stomach.

[Don] Thou shalt be heavily punished.

I am more bound to you than your fellows

for they are but lightly rewarded.

Take away this villain, shut him up.

Come you transgressing slave.

Away!

Let me not be pent up, sir.

I will fast being loose.

No sir, that were fast and loose.

Thou shalt to prison.

Well, if ever I do see the
merry days of desolation

that I have seen, some shall see.

What shall some see?

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.

Yet how can that be true
love if 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

and yet was Solomon so seduced
and he had a very good wit.

Cupid's butt-shaft is too
heavy for Hercules' club

and therefore too much odds
for a Spaniard's rapier.

Adieu, valor!

Rust rapier!

Be still, drum!

For your manager is in love.

Yay he loveth.

[gentle classical music]

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.

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.

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 uttered by base sale
of Chapman'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.

To painful study shall
outwear three years.

No woman may approach his silent court.

Therefore to 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.

Whilst we attend, like
humble-visaged suitors,

his high will.

Proud of employment, willingly I go.

All pride is willing
pride and yours is so.

Who are the votaries, my loving lords,

that are vow-fellows
with this virtuous duke?

Lord Longaville is one.

-Know you the man?
-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.

Well?

A man of sovereign parts,
peerless, esteemed,

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 matched
with too blunt a will,

whose edge hath power to cut,

whose will still wills
it should none spare

that come within his power.

Some merry mocking lord, belike is't so?

They say so most that
most his humors know.

Such short-lived wits
do wither as they grow.

Who are the rest?

The young Dumain, a
well-accomplished youth,

of all that virtue love for virtue loved.

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.

Another of these students at that time

was there with him, if
I have heard a truth.

Biron 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 to a mirth-moving jest,

which his fair tongue,
conceit's expositor,

delivers with such apt and gracious words

that aged ears play truant at his tales

and younger hearings are quite ravished.

So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

God bless my ladies!

Are they all in love that every
one her own hath garnished

with such bedecking ornaments of praise?

[Man] Here comes Boyet.

Now, what admittance lord?

Navarre had notice of your fair approach

and he and his competitors in oath

were all addressed to
meet you, gentle lady,

before I came.

Marry, thus much I have learned.

He rather means to lodge you in the field

like one that comes here
to besiege his court

than seek a dispensation for his oath

to let you enter his unpeopled house.

Here comes Navarre.

Fair princess, welcome
to the court of Navarre.

Fair I give you back again

and welcome I have not yet.

The roof of this court
is too high to be yours

and welcome to the wide
fields too base to be mine.

You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.

I will be welcome, then.

-Conduct me thither.
-Hear me, fair lady.

I have sworn an oath.

Our lady help my lord, he'll be forsworn.

Not for the world, dear madam, by my will.

Why will shall break it.

Will and nothing else.

Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.

Were my lord so his ignorance were wise,

well now his knowledge
must prove ignorance.

I hear your grace hath
sworn out housekeeping.

It were a deadly sin to
keep that oath, my lord,

and sin to break it.

But pardon me.

I am too sudden bold.

To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.

Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming

and suddenly resolve me in my suit.

Madam I will if suddenly I may.

You will the sooner, that I may away

for you'll prove perjured
if you make me stay.

Did I not dance with you in Brabant once?

Did I not dance with you in Brabant once?

I know you did.

How needless was it then
to ask the question!

You must not be so quick.

'Tis long of you that spur
me with such questions.

Your wit's too hot, it speeds
too fast, it will tire.

[Rosaline] Not till it
leave the rider in the mire.

What time of day?

The hour that fools should ask.

Oh fair befall your mask!

Fair fall the face it covers!

And send you many lovers!

Amen.

So you be none.

Nay then will I be gone.

Madam, your father here doth intimate

the payment of 100,000 crowns

being but one half of an entire sum

disbursed by my father in his wars.

But say that he or we, as neither have,

received that sum,
there yet remains unpaid

100,000 more, in surety of the which

one part of Aquitaine is bound to us,

although not valued to the money's worth.

If then the king your father will restore

but that one half which is unsatisfied,

we will give up our right in Aquitaine

and hold fair friendship with his majesty.

But that, it seems, he little purposeth.

For here he doth demand to have repaid

100,000 crowns and not demands,

on payment of a 100,000 crowns,

to have his title live in Aquitaine,

which we much rather had depart withal

and have the money by our
father lent than Aquitaine,

so gelded as it is.

Dear Princess, were
not his requests so far

from reason's yielding,
your fair self should make

a yielding 'gainst some
reason in my breast

and go well satisfied to France again.

You do the king, my father, too much wrong

and wrong the reputation of your name,

in so unseeming to confess receipt

of that which hath so
faithfully been paid.

I do protest I never heard of it

and if you prove it, I'll repay back

or yield up Aquitaine.

We arrest your word.

Boyet, you can produce acquittances

for such a sum from special
officers of Charles his father.

Satisfy me so.

So please your grace,
the packet has not come

where that and other
specialties are bound.

Tomorrow you shall have a sight of them.

It shall suffice me.

At which interview all liberal
reason I will yield unto.

Meantime receive such welcome at my hand

as honor, without breach of honor,

may make tender of to thy true worthiness.

You may not come, fair
princess, within my gates

but here without you shall be so received

as you shall deem yourself
lodged in my heart,

although denied fair harbor in my house.

Your own good thoughts
excuse me and farewell.

Tomorrow shall we visit you again.

Sweet health and fair
desires consort your grace!

Thy own wish wish I thee in every place!

Sir I pray you a word.

What lady is that same?

The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.

A gallant lady.

Monsieur, fare you well.

I beseech you a word.

What is she in the white?

A woman sometimes and
you saw her in the light.

Perchance light in the
light, I desire her name.

She's an heir of Falconbridge.

What's her name in the cap?

Rosaline by good hap.

Is she wedded or no?

To her will sir, or so.

You're welcome sir.

Adieu.

Farewell to me sir and welcome to you.

That last is Biron, the merry madcap lord.

Not a word with him but a jest.

And every jest but a word.

It was well done of you
to take him at his word.

I was as willing to
grapple as he was to board.

Two hot sheeps, marry.

And wherefore not ships?

No sheep, sweet lamb,
unless we feed on your lips.

You sheep and I pasture.

Shall that finish the jest?

So you grant pasture for me.

Not so, gentle beast.

My lips are no common,
though several they be.

Belonging to whom?

To my fortunes and me.

Good, wits will be
jangling but gentles agree,

this civil war of wits
were much better used

on Navarre and his book
men, for here it is abused.

If my observation, which very seldom lies,

by the heart's still
rhetoric disclosed with eyes,

deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.

With what?

With that which we
lovers entitle affected.

Your reason?

Why, all his behaviors
did make their retire

to the court of his eye,
peeping thorough desire.

His heart, like an agate,
with your print impressed,

proud with his form, in
his eye pride expressed.

His tongue, all impatient
to speak and not see,

did stumble with haste
in his eyesight to be.

All senses to that sense
did make their repair

to feel only looking on fairest of fair.

Methought all his senses
were locked in his eye,

as jewels in crystal
for some prince to buy.

Who, tendering their own worth
from where they were glassed,

did point you to buy
them along as you passed.

His face's own margent
did quote such amazes

that all eyes saw his
eyes enchanted with gazes.

I'll give you Aquitaine
and all that is his

and you give him for my
sake but one loving kiss.

Thou art an old love-monger
and speakest skillfully.

He's Cupid's grandfather
and learns news of him.

Then was Venus like her mother,

for her father is but grim.

[soaring classical music]

[Biron] If love make me forsworn

how shall I swear to love?

Ah, never faith could hold,
if not to beauty vowed.

Though to myself forsworn,
to thee I'll faithful prove.

Those thoughts to me were oaks,

to thee like osiers bowed.

Study his bias leaves and
makes his book thine eyes,

where all those pleasures live
that art would comprehend.

[gentle music]

[singing in foreign language]

Sweet air!

Go, tenderness of years.

Take this key, give
enlargement to the swain,

bring him festinately hither.

He must carry me a letter to my love.

A message will sympathized.

A horse to be ambassador for an ass.

Ha ha, what sayest thou?

Marry sir, you must send
the ass upon the horse,

for he is very slow-gaited.

But I go sir, as swift as lead.

The meaning pretty ingenious.

Is not lead a metal, heavy dull and slow?

[speaking in foreign language]

honest master or rather, master, no.

I say lead is slow.

You are too swift to say so sir.

Is that lead slow that
is fired from a gun?

A most acute juvenile.

Volable and full of grace.

By thy favor sweet welkin
I must sigh and I face.

Oh most rude melancholy,
valor gives the place.

[laughing]

A wonder, master!

Here's a Costard broken in a shin.

Some enigma, some riddle.

Come thy [speaking in
foreign language] begin.

No enigma, no riddle, no
[speaking in foreign language],

no salve in the mail, sir.

Oh sir plantain, a plain plantain!

No [speaking in foreign language],

no [speaking in foreign language],

no salve sir, but a plantain!

By virtue, thou enforces me to laughter.

Thy silly thought my spleen.

The heaving of my lungs provokes
me to ridiculous smiling.

Oh pardon me, my stars!

Does the inconsiderate take the word

[speaking in foreign
language] for a salve?

Do the wise think them other?

Is not [speaking in
foreign language] a salve?

No, page.

It is some epilogue or
discourse, to make plain

some obscure precedence
that hath to for been sain.

I will example it.

The fox, the ape and the humble bee

were still at odds being but three.

There's the moral.

Now the [speaking in foreign language].

I will add the [speaking
in foreign language].

Say the moral again.

The fox, the ape and the humble bee,

were still at odds, being but three.

Until the goose came out of door

and stayed the odds by adding four.

Now will I begin your moral

and you follow with my
[speaking in foreign language].

The fox, the ape and the humble bee,

were still at odds, being but three.

And then the goose came out of door,

staying the odds by adding four.

A good [speaking in foreign
language] ending in the goose.

Would you desire more?

[laughing]

How did this argument begin?

By saying here's a
costard broken in a shin,

then called you for the
[speaking in foreign language].

True and I for a plantain.

Tell me how was there a
costard broken in a shin?

I will tell you sensibly.

Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth.

I will speak that [speaking
in foreign language].

I Costard, running out,
that was safely within,

fell over the threshold and broke my shin.

We will talk no more of this matter.

[Costard] Till there be
more matter in the shin.

Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.

Oh marry me to one Frances,

I smell some [speaking
in foreign language],

some goose, in this.

By my sweet soul, I mean
setting thee at liberty,

enfreedoming thy person.

Thou wert immured,
restrained, captivated, bound.

True, true and now you
will be my purgation

and let me loose.

I will give thee thy liberty,
set thee from durance

and in lieu thereof, impose
nothing on thee but this.

Bear this significant to
the country maid Jaquenetta.

Here is remuneration.

For the best ward of mine honor
is rewarding my dependents.

Moth, follow.

Now will I look to his remuneration.

Remuneration!

Oh, that's the Latin
word for three farthings.

Three farthings.

Remuneration.

What's the price of this inkle?

One penny.

No, I'll give you a remuneration.

Why, it carries it.

Remuneration!

It's a fairer name than French crown.

I will never buy and
sell out of this word.

[Biron] Oh my good knave
Costard, exceedingly well met.

Pray you sir, how much
carnation ribbon may a man buy

for a remuneration?

What is a remuneration?

[Costard] Marry sir, halfpenny farthing.

Why then, three-farthing's worth of silk.

[Costard] I thank your
worship, God be with you.

Stay slave, I must employ thee.

As thou would win my favor, good my knave,

do one thing for me that I shall entreat.

[Costard] When would
you have it done, sir?

This afternoon.

[Costard] Well I will do it, sir.

Fare you well.

Thou knowest not what it is.

[Costard] I shall know
sir when I've done it.

Why villain, thou must know first.

[Costard] I will come to your
worship tomorrow morning.

It must be done this afternoon.

Hark slave, it is but this.

The princess comes to
hunt here in the park.

In her train there's a gentle lady.

When tongues speak sweetly,
then they name her name.

Rosaline they call her.

Rosaline.

Ask for her.

And to her white hand see thou do commend

this sealed-up counsel.

There's thy guerdon.

Go.

Guerdon.

Oh sweet guerdon.

Better than remuneration.

'leven-pence farthing better.

Most sweet guerdon!

I will do it sir, in print.

Guerdon!

Remuneration!

And I, forsooth, in love!

I that have been love's whip,

a very beadle to a humorous sigh,

a critic, nay, a night-watch constable.

A domineering pedant o'er the boy.

Than whom no mortal so magnificent!

This whimpled, whining,
purblind, wayward boy.

This senior-junior,
giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid.

Regent of love-rhymes,
lord of folded arms,

the anointed sovereign
of sighs and groans.

Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.

Dread prince of plackets,
king of codpieces.

Sole imperator and great
general of trotting 'paritors.

Oh my little heart!

And I to be a corporal in his field

and wear his colors like a tumbler's hoop!

What!

I love, I sue!

I seek a wife!

A woman?

That's like a German clock,

still a-repairing, ever out of frame.

Never going right, being a watch,

but being watched that
it may still go right.

Nay.

To be perjured, which is worst of all.

And amongst three to
love the worst of all.

A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,

with two pitch-balls stuck
in her face for eyes.

Ay and by heaven, one
that will do the deed

though Argus were her
eunuch and her guard.

And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,

to pray for her.

Go to, it is a plague that
Cupid will impose for my neglect

of his almighty dreadful little might.

Well.

I will love, write, sigh,
pray, sue and groan.

Some men must love my lady and some Joan.

Was that the king that
spurred his horse so hard

against the steep uprising of the hill?

I know not but I think it was not he.

Who'er it was has showed a mounting mind.

[laughing]

Well lords, today 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?

Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice.

A stand where you may
make the fairest shoot.

But comes the bow now mercy goes to kill.

The poor deer's blood that
my heart means no ill.

[Boyet] Here comes a
member of the commonwealth.

God dig-you-den all!

[All] God dig-you-den.

Pray you, which is the head lady?

Oh thou shalt know her, fellow,

by the others that have no heads.

Which is the greatest lady, the highest?

The thickest and the tallest.

The thickest and the tallest.

It is so.

Truth is truth.

And your waist, mistress,
were as slender as my wit.

One of these maids' girdles
for your waist should be fit.

Are not you the chief woman?

You're the thickest here.

What's your will, sir?

What's your will?

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

Oh thy letter, thy letter!

He's a good friend of mine.

Stand aside, good bearer.

Boyet, you can carve.

Break up this capon.

I am bound to serve.

Oh this letter is mistook,
it importeth none here.

It is writ to Jaquenetta.

We will read it, I swear.

Break the neck of the wax
and every one give ear.

By heaven that thou art
fair is most infallible,

true, that thou art
beauteous, truth itself,

that thou art lovely.

More fairer than fair,
beautiful than beauteous,

truer than truth itself,

have commiseration on thy heroical vassal!

The magnanimous and most
illustrate King Cophetua

set eye upon the pernicious

and indubitate beggar Zenelophon

and he it was that might rightly say,

veni, vidi, vici, which to
annothanize in the vulgar,

oh base and obscure vulgar,

videlicet, he came, saw and overcame.

He came, one, saw two, overcame three.

[laughing]

Who came, the king.

Why did he come, to see.

Why did he see, to overcome.

To whom came he, to the beggar.

What saw he?

The beggar.

Who overcame he, the beggar.

The conclusion is victory on whose side.

The king's!

[laughing]

The captive is enriched on whose side.

The beggar's.

The catastrophe is a nuptial
on whose side, the king's.

No on both in one or one in both.

I am the king for so
stands the comparison.

Thou the beggar for so
witnesseth thy lowliness.

What should I exchange for rags, robes,

for tittles, titles, for thyself, me.

Thus, expecting thy reply, I
profane my lips on thy foot,

my eyes on thy picture and
my heart on thy every part.

Thine, in the dearest design of industry,

Don Adriando de Armado.

What plume of feathers is
he that indited this letter?

What vane, what weathercock?

Did you ever hear better?

I am much deceived but
I remember the style.

Else your memory is bad,
going o'er it erewhile.

This Armado is a Spaniard
that keeps here in court.

A phantasime, a Monarcho,
and one that makes sport

to the prince and his book mates.

Thou fellow, a word.

Who gavest thou this letter?

I told you, my lord.

To whom shouldst thou give it?

From my lord to my lady.

From which lord to which lady?

From my Lord Biron, a good master of mine,

to a lady of France
that he called Rosaline.

Thou hast mistaken his letter.

Come lords, away.

Here sweet, put up this.

'Twill be thine another day.

[gentle music]

Who is the suitor, who is the suitor?

Shall I teach you to know?

Ay my continent of beauty.

Why, she that bears the bow.

Finely put off!

My lady goes to kill horns

but if thou marry hang me by the neck

if horns that year miscarry.

Finely put on!

Well then, I am the shooter.

[Boyet] And who is your deer?

If we choose by the horns,
yourself come not near.

Finely put on, indeed!

You still wrangle with her, Boyet

and she strikes at the brow.

But she herself is hit lower.

Have I hit her now?

Shall I come upon thee with an old saying

that was a man when King Pepin
of France was a little boy,

as touching the hit it?

So I may answer thee with one as old

that was a woman when
Queen Guinover of Britain

was a little wench as touching the hit it.

Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it.

Thou canst not hit it, my good man.

An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
an I cannot, another can.

Oh my troth, most sweet jests.

Most incony vulgar wit when
it comes so smoothly off.

So obscenely as it were.

So fit.

Very reverend sport, truly
and done in the testimony

of a good conscience.

The deer was, as you know,

[speaking in foreign language], in blood.

Ripe as the pomewater, who
now hangeth like a jewel

in the ear of caelo, the
sky, the heaven, the welkin

and anon falleth like a
crab on the face of terra,

the soil, the land, the earth.

Truly, Master Holofernes, the
epithets are sweetly varied,

like a scholar at the least,

but sir, I assure ye, it was
a buck of the first head.

Sir Nathaniel, [speaking
in a foreign language].

'Twas not a [speaking
in foreign language],

'twas a pricket.

Most barbarous intimation!

Yet a kind of insinuation,
as it were, in via,

in way of explication.

[speaking in foreign
language], as it were.

Replication or rather,
[speaking in foreign language],

as it were, to show his
inclination, after his undressed,

unpolished, uneducated,
unpruned, untrained or rather

unlettered or ratherest
unconfirmed fashion,

to insert again my [speaking
in foreign language]

for a deer.

I said the deer was not a

[speaking in foreign
language], twas a pricket.

Twice-sod simplicity, beast coctus,

oh thou monster ignorance,
how deformed dost thou look!

Sir he hath never fed of the dainties

that are bred in a book.

He hath not eat paper, as it were.

He hath not drunk ink, his
intellect is not replenished.

He's only an animal, only
sensible in the duller parts.

And such barren plants are set before us

that we thankful should be,

which we have taste and knowledge are,

for those parts which do
fructify in us more than he.

For as it would ill become
me to be vain, indiscreet,

or a fool, so where there
a patch set on learning

to see him in a school.

But [speaking in foreign language] say I,

being of an old father's mind.

Many can brook the weather
that love not the wind.

You two are book men.

Can you tell me by your wit

what was a month old at Cain's birth,

that's not five weeks old as yet?

Dictynna, goodman Dull,
Dictynna goodman Dull.

What is Dictynna?

A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.

The moon was a month old
when Adam was no more

and raught not to five weeks

when he came to five score.

The allusion holds in the exchange.

'Tis true indeed.

The collusion holds in the exchange.

God comfort thy capacity!

I say the allusion holds in the exchange.

And I say the pollution
holds in the exchange

for the moon is never but a month old.

And I say beside that was a pricket

that the princess killed.

Sir Nathaniel, will you
hear an extemporal epitaph

on the death of the deer?

And to humor the ignorant,

call the deer the
princess killed a pricket.

[speaking in foreign language],

good Master Holofernes.

[speaking in foreign language]

So it shall please you
to abrogate scurrility.

I will something affect the letter

for it argues facility.

The preyful princess pricked and pierced

a pretty pleasing pricket.

Some say a sore, but not a sore,

till now made sore with shooting.

The dogs did yell, put yell to sore,

and soil jumps from
thicket or pricket sore

or else sorel the people fall a-hooting.

If sore be sore, then L
to sore makes 50 sores

a sorel of one sore I and hundred make

by adding but one more L.

A rare talent!

This gift that I have, simple, simple.

Foolish extravagant spirit,
full of forms, figures,

shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions,

motions, revolutions.

These are begot in the
ventricle of memory,

nourished in the womb of pia mater

and delivered upon the
mellowing of occasion.

But the gift is good in
those in whom it is acute

and I am thankful for it.

Sir I praise the Lord for you.

And so may my parishioners.

For their sons are well tutored by you

and their daughters profit
very greatly under you.

You are a good member of the commonwealth.

[speaking in foreign language]

If their sons be ingenuous,

they shall want no instruction

and if their daughters be
capable I will put it to 'em

but [speaking in foreign language].

[laughing]

Good Master Parson, be so
good as read me this letter.

It was given me by Costard
and sent me from Don Armado.

I beseech you, read it.

[speaking in foreign language]

And so forth.

Good old Mantuan!

I may speak of thee as the
traveler doth of Venice.

Venetia, Venetia,

[speaking in foreign language]

Old Mantuan, old Mantuan.

Who understandeth thee not loves thee not.

[singing in foreign language]

Under pardon sir, what are the contents,

or as Horace says in his, what my soul.

Verses?

Ay sir and very learned.

Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse.

[speaking in foreign language]

If knowledge be the mark,
to know thee shall suffice.

Well learned is that tongue
that well can thee commend.

All ignorant that soul that
sees thee without wonder.

Which is to me some praise
that I thy parts admire.

Thy eye Jove's lightning bears,

thy voice his dreadful thunder.

Which not to anger bent,
is music and sweet fire.

Celestial as thou art, oh
pardon, love, this wrong,

That sings heaven's praise
with such an earthly tongue.

You do not find the apostrophes
and so miss the accent.

Let me supervise the canzonet.

Here are only numbers
ratified, but for the elegancy,

facility and golden
cadence of poesy, caret.

Ovidius Naso was the man
and why, indeed, Naso.

I don't know.

For smelling out the
odoriferous flowers of fancy.

The jerks of invention.

[speaking in foreign language] is nothing,

so doth the hound his master,

the ape his keeper, the
tired horse his rider.

But, damoiselle virgin,
was this directed to you?

Ay, sir.

I will overglance the superscript.

To the snow white hand of the
most beauteous Lady Rosaline.

I will look again on the
intellect of the letter,

for the nomination of the party writing

to the person written unto.

Your ladyship's in all desired employment.

Biron.

Oh!

Sir Nathaniel this Biron
is one of the votaries

with the king and here
he hath framed a letter

to a sequent of the stranger queen,

which accidentally, or by
the way of progression,

hath miscarried.

Trip and go, my sweet.

Deliver this paper into
the royal hand of the king.

It may concern much.

Stay not thy compliment,
I forgive thy duty, adieu.

Sir you have done this in the fear of God

very religiously and as
a certain father saith--

Sir tell me not of the father

but to return to these verses.

Sir Nathaniel, did they please you.

Marvelous well for the pen.

I do dine today at the father's

of a certain pupil of mine
where, if, before repast,

it shall please you to gratify
the table with a grace,

I will undertake, on my
privilege I have with the parents

of the foresaid child or pupil,

your [speaking in foreign language],

where I will show those
verses to be very unlearned,

savoring neither of
poetry, wit, nor invention.

I beseech your society.

And thank you too for
society, saith the text,

is the happiness of life.

I will not love.

If I do, hang me, faith, I will not.

Oh but her eye.

By this light, but for her
eye, I would not love her.

Yes for her two eyes.

Well I do nothing in the
world but lie and lie

in my throat.

By heaven, I do love.

And it hath taught me to
rhyme and to be melancholy,

here's part of my rhyme
and here my melancholy.

Here comes one with a paper.

Ay me!

Shot by heaven.

So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not

to those fresh morning
drops upon the rose,

as thy eye beams, when
their fresh rays have smote

the night of dew that
on my cheeks down flows.

Nor shines the silver
moon one half so bright

through the transparent bosom of the deep,

as doth thy face through
tears of mine give light.

What, Longaville and reading!

Listen, ear.

Now in thy likeness, one more fool appear!

Ay me, I am forsworn!

In love I hope, sweet fellowship in shame!

Oh sweet Maria, empress of my love.

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 goddess,

I forswore not thee.

My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love.

Thy grace being gained
cures all disgrace in me.

Vows are but breath and breath a vapor is.

Then thou, fair sun, which
on my earth dost shine,

exhalest this vapor 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.

This is the liver-vein
which makes flesh a deity,

a green goose a goddess.

Pure, pure idolatry.

By whom shall I send this?

Oh!

Company!

Stay.

All hid, all hid.

An old infant play.

Oh most divine Kate!

Oh most profane coxcomb!

Oh that I had my wish.

And I had mine.

And I mine too, good Lord.

Amen, so I had mine.

Isn't that a good word?

Like a fever she reigns in my blood

and will remembered be.

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

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

On a day, alack the day!

Love, whose month is ever May,

spied a blossom passing fair
playing in the wanton air.

Through the velvet leaves the wind,

all unseen, can passage find.

That the lover, sick to death,

wished 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.

Oh would the king, Biron and
Longaville were lovers too.

Ill to example ill, would
from my forehead wipe

a perjured note.

For none offend where all alike do dote.

Dumain.

Thy love is far from
charity that in love's grief

desire a society.

Oh you may look pale, but
I should blush, I know,

to be o'erheard and taken napping so.

[clears throat]

You blush.

That is 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 lay his wreathed arms
athwart his loving bosom

to keep down his heart.

I have been closely shrouded in this book

and marked you both and
at you both did look.

I heard your guilty rhymes.

Noted well your fashion.

Saw sighs reek from you,
observed your passion.

Ay me, says one.

Oh Jove the other cries.

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

You would for paradise
break faith and troth.

And Jove, for your love,
would infringe an oath.

What will Biron 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.

Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.

Oh 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's no
certain princess that appears.

You'll not be perjured,
'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.

What a scene of foolery have I seen.

Of sighs, of groans,
of sorrow and of teen!

Oh 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,
oh tell me, good Dumain.

And gentle Longaville,
where lies thy pain.

And where my liege is,
all about the breast.

A caudle, ho!

Too bitter is thy jest.

Are we betrayed thus to thy overview?

Not you by me, but I betrayed by you.

I that am honest.

I that hold it sin to break
the vow I'm engaged in.

I am betrayed by keeping company

with moon-like men, 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?

Soft, whither away so fast?

A true man or a thief that gallops so?

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

God bless the king!

What present hast thou there?

Some certain treason.

What makes treason here?

I beseech your grace,
let this letter be read.

Our parson misdoubts it,
'twas treason, he said.

[Ferdinand] Biron, read it over.

Where hadst thou it?

[Jaquenetta] Of Costard.

Oh hey!

[Ferdinand] Now what is
in it, why dost tear it?

It's a toy my liege, a toy.

Your grace needs not fear it.

It did move him to passion
and therefore let's hear it.

It's Biron's writing and here is his name.

You were born to do me shame.

Guilty my liege, guilty.

I confess, I confess.

What?

That you three fools lacked
me fool to make up the mess.

He, he and you and you my liege and I,

are pick-purses in love
and we deserve to die.

Dismiss this audience, I'll tell you more.

Now the number's even.

True, true, we are four.

Will these turtles be gone?

Hence sirs, away.

Walk aside the true folk
and let the traitors stay.

[laughing]

Sweet lords.

Sweet lovers!

Oh let us embrace!

As true we are as flesh and blood can be.

The sea will ebb and flow,
heaven show his face.

Young blood cannot obey an old decree.

What did these rent lines
show some love of thine?

[All] Oh!

Did they quoth he, who
sees the heavenly Rosaline.

That like a rude and savage man of Inde

at the first opening of the gorgeous east,

bows not his vassal
head and strucken blind

kisses the base ground
with obedient breast.

What peremptory eagle-sighted eye

dares look upon the heaven of her brow

that is not blinded by her majesty?

What zeal, what fury
hath inspired thee now?

My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon.

She an attending star,
scarce seen a light.

My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron.

Oh but for my love, day
would turn to night.

Oh 'tis the sun that
maketh all things shine.

By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.

Is ebony like her, oh wood divine.

A wife of such wood were felicity.

Who can give an oath, where's a book?

That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,

if that she learn not of her eye to look.

No face is fair that is not full so black.

Oh paradox!

Black is the badge of
hell, the hue of dungeons

and the school of night

and beauty's crest
becomes the heavens well.

To look like her are
chimney sweepers black.

And since her time are
colliers counted bright.

And Ethiopes of their
sweet complexion crack.

Dark needs no candles
now, for dark is light.

Your mistresses they never come in rain,

for fear their color
should be washed away.

[All] Oh!

'Twere good, yours did
for sir to tell you plain,

I'll find a fairer face not washed today.

I'll prove her fair or
talk till doomsday here.

No devil will fright
thee then so much as she.

I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.

Look here's thy love.

My foot and her face see.

Oh if the streets were
paved with thine eyes

her feet were much too
dainty for such tread.

Oh vile!

Then as she goes what upward
lies the street should see

as she walked overhead.

But what of this?

Are we not all in love?

Nothing so sure and
therefore all forsworn.

Then leave this chat and good Biron

now prove our loving lawful
and our faith not torn.

Ay marry, some flattery for this evil.

Oh some authority, how to proceed.

Some tricks, some quillets,
how to cheat the devil.

Some salve for perjury.

'Tis more than need.

Have at you then, affection's men at arms.

Consider what you first did swear unto.

To fast, to study and to see no women.

Flat treason 'gainst the
kingly state of youth.

Say can you fast?

Your stomachs are too young

and abstinence engenders maladies.

But we've made a vow to study, lords,

and in that vow we have
forsworn our books.

For when would you my
liege, or you or you,

in leaden contemplation have
found out such fiery numbers

as the prompting eyes of beauty's tutors

can enrich you with.

Other slow arts entirely keep the brain

and therefore finding barren practices

scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil.

But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,

lives not alone immured in the brain.

But with the motion of all elements,

courses as swift as thought in every power

and gives to every power a double power

above his functions and his offices.

It adds a precious seeing to the eye.

A lover's eye will gaze an eagle blind.

A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,

when suspicious head of theft is stopped.

Love's feeling is more soft and sensible

than are the tender
horns of cockled snails.

Love's tongue proves dainty
Bacchus gross in taste.

For valor, is not love a Hercules

still climbing trees in the Hesperides?

Subtle as Sphinx, as sweet and musical

as bright Apollo's lute,
strung with his hair.

And when love speaks the
voice of all the gods

makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.

Never durst poet touch a pen to write

until his ink were
tempered with love's sighs.

Oh then his lines would ravish savage ears

and plant in tyrants mild humility.

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive,

they sparkle still the
right Promethean fire.

They are the books,
the arts, the academes,

that show, contain and
nourish all the world.

Else none at all in
ought proves excellent.

Then fools you were
these women to forswear

or keeping what is sworn,
you will prove fools.

For wisdom's sake, a
word that all men love,

or for love's sake, a
word that loves all men.

Or for men's sake, the
authors of these women,

or for women's sake,
by whom we men are men.

Let us once lose our
oaths to find ourselves,

or else we lose ourselves
to keep our oaths.

It is religion to be thus forsworn,

for charity itself fulfills the law

and who can sever love from charity?

[applauding]

Saint Cupid then and
soldiers to the field!

Advance your standards
and upon them, lords

pell-mell down with them,
but be first advised

in conflict that you get the sun of them.

Now to plain dealing.

Lay these glozes by.

Shall we resolve to woo
these girls of France?

And win them too!

Therefore let us devise
some entertainment for them

in their tents.

First from the park let
us conduct them thither

then homeward every man attach the hand

of his fair mistress.

In the afternoon we will

with some strange pastime solace them.

Such as the shortness
of the time can shape.

For revels, dances, masks and merry hours

forerun fair love, strewing
her way with flowers.

[laughing]

[speaking in foreign language]

I praise God for you, sir,
you are reasons that dinner

have been sharp and sententious.

Pleasant without scurrility,
witty without affection,

audacious without impudency,
learned without opinion

and strange without heresy.

I did converse this quondam day

with a companion of the king's,

who is intituled, nominated or called,

Don Adriano de Armado.

[speaking in foreign language]

His humor is lofty, his
discourse peremptory,

his tongue filed, his eye
ambitious, his gait majestical,

his general behavior vain,
ridiculous and thrasonical.

He is too picked, too spruce,
too affected, too odd,

as it were, too peregrinate, as I may say.

A most singular and choice epithet.

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity

finer than the staple of his argument.

I abhor such fanatical phantasimes,

such insociable and
point-devise companions.

Such rackers of orthography,
as to speak dout,

fine, when he should say doubt.

Or det when he should pronounce
debt, D-E-B-T not D-E-T.

He clepeth a calf, cauf.

[laughing]

Half, hauf.

[laughing]

Neighbor [speaking in
foreign language] nebor.

Ne abberviated ni.

This is abominable which
he would call abbominable.

It insinuateth me of [speaking
in foreign language],

to make frantic, lunatic.

[speaking in foreign language]

[speaking in foreign language],

a little scratched which we'll serve.

[upbeat music]

[speaking in foreign language]

Men of peace, well encountered.

[Holoferness] Most
military sir, salutation.

Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure

and affection to congratulate the princess

at her pavilion in the
posteriors of this day,

which the rude multitude
call the afternoon.

The posterior of the
day, most generous sir,

is liable, congruent and
measurable for the afternoon.

The word is well chosen,
culled, sweet and apt,

I do assure you, sir, I do assure.

Sir the king is a noble
gentleman and my familiar,

I do assure ye, very good friend.

For what is inward
between us, let it pass.

But I must tell thee, it
will please his grace,

by the world, sometime to
lean upon my poor shoulder

and with his royal finger,
thus, dally with my excrement,

with my mustachio.

But sweetheart, let that pass.

By the world I recount no fable.

Some certain special honors
it pleaseth his greatness

to impart to Armado.

A soldier, a man of travel,
that hath seen the world.

But let that pass.

The very all of all is, but sweetheart,

I do implore secrecy.

The king would have me
present the princess,

sweet chuck, with some
delightful ostentation,

or show, or pageant, or
antique, or firework.

Now, understanding that the
curate and your sweet self

are good at such eruptions and
sudden breaking out of mirth,

as it were, I have acquainted
you to the end withal,

to crave your assistance.

They have been at a
great feast of language

and stolen the scraps.

Oh they have lived long on
the alms-basket of words.

I marvel thy master hath
not eaten thee for a word.

Sir you shall present before
her the Nine Worthies.

So Nathaniel, as concerning
some entertainment of time,

some show in the posterior of this day,

to be rendered by our
assistants, at the king's command

and this most gallant,
illustrate, and learned gentleman,

before the princess.

I say none so fit as to
present the Nine Worthies.

Where will you find men
worthy enough to present them?

Joshua yourself, myself, Alexander.

This gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus.

The swain, by reason of
his great limb or joint

shall pass Pompey the Great.

The page Hercules.

Pardon sir, error.

He is not quantity for
that Worthy's thumb.

He is not big enough
for the end of his club.

Shall I have audience?

He shall present Hercules in minority.

His enter and exit shall
be strangling a snake

and I will have a
prologue to that purpose.

An excellent device!

Then if any of the
audience hiss, you may cry

well done Hercules.

Now thou crushest the snake!

[laughing]

For the rest of the Worthies?

I will play three myself.

Thrice worthy gentleman.

[laughing]

Shall I tell you a thing?

We attend.

We will have, if this
fadge not, an antique.

I beseech you, follow.

Via goodman Dull thou hast
said no word all this time.

Nor understood none neither sir.

[speaking in foreign language]

We will employee thee.

I'll make one in a dance or so

or I will play on the
tabour to the Worthies

and let them dance the hay.

Most dull honest Dull.

To our sport, away!

Sweethearts, we shall
be rich ere we depart

if fairings come thus plentifully in.

A lady walled about with diamonds.

Look you what I have from the loving king.

Madame came nothing else along with that?

Nothing but this!

Yes, as much love in rhyme
as would be crammed up

in a sheet of paper, writ
o' both sides of the leaf,

margent and all, that he was
fain to seal on Cupid's name.

That were the way to make his godhead wax.

For he hath been 5000 year a boy.

Ay and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.

You'll ne'er be friends with
him a' killed your sister.

He made her melancholy, sad
and heavy and so she died.

Had she been light, like
you, of such a merry, nimble,

stirring spirit, she might ha'
been a grandam ere she died.

And so may you for a
light heart lives long.

What's your dark meaning,
mouse, of this light word?

A light condition in a beauty dark.

We need more light to
find your meaning out.

You'll mar the light
by taking it in snuff,

therefore I'll darkly end the argument.

See what you you do, you
do it still in the dark.

So do not you, for you are a light wench.

I weigh not you and therefore light.

You weigh me not?

Oh that's you care not for me.

Great reason.

For past cure is still past care.

Well bandied both.

A set of wit well played.

But Rosaline, you have a favor too.

Who sent it?

And what is it?

I would you knew.

An if my face were but as fair as yours

my favor were as great.

Be witness this.

Nay I have verses too, I thank Biron.

The numbers true and
were the numbering too

I were the fairest goddess on the ground.

I am compared to 20,000 fairs.

Oh he hath drawn my picture in his letter.

Anything like?

Much in the letters,
nothing in the praise.

Beauteous as ink, a good conclusion.

But Katharine, what was sent
to you from fair Dumain?

Madam this glove.

Did he not send you twain?

Yes madam.

And moreover some thousand
verses of a faithful lover.

A huge translation of
hypocrisy vilely compiled.

Profound simplicity.

This and these pearls
to me sent Longaville.

The letter is too long by half a mile.

I think no less.

Dost thou not wish in heart

the chain were longer
and the letter short?

Ay or I would these
hands might never part.

We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.

They are worse fools
to purchase mocking so.

That same Biron, I'll torture ere I go.

Oh that I knew he were but in by the week.

How I would make him fawn and beg and seek

and wait the seasons and observe the times

and spend his prodigal
wits in bootless rhymes

and shape his service wholly to my hests.

And make him proud to
make me proud that jests.

So pertinent-like would
I o'er sway his state

that he should be my fool and I his fate.

None are so surely caught
when they are catched,

as wit turned fool.

Folly, in wisdom hatched,
hath wisdom's warrant

and the help of school and wit's own grace

to grace a learned fool.

The blood of youth burns
not with such success

as gravity's revolt to wantonness.

I'm stabbed with laughter.

Where's her grace?

[Princess] Thy news Boyet?

Prepare madam, prepare!

Arm, wenches, arm.

Encounters mounted are against your peace.

Love doth approach disguised,
armed in arguments.

You'll be surprised.

Muster your wits, stand
in your own defense

or hide your heads like
cowards and fly hence.

Saint Denis to Saint Cupid!

What are they that charge
their breath against us?

Say, scout, say.

Under the cool shade of a sycamore

I thought to close mine
eyes some half an hour

when lo, to interrupt my
purposed rest toward that shade

I might behold addressed
the king and his companions.

Warily I stole into a neighbor thicket by

and overheard what you shall overhear,

that by and by disguised
they will be here.

What?

But what, come they to visit us.

They do, they do and are appareled thus

like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.

Their purpose is to parle, court and dance

and everyone his love-feat will advance

unto his several mistress,

which they'll know by favors
several which they did bestow.

And will they so?

The gallants shall be tasked

for ladies we will every one be masked.

And not a man of them
shall have the grace,

despite of suit, to see a lady's face.

Hold Rosaline, this favor shalt thou wear

and then the king will
court thee for his dear.

Hold, take thou this my
sweet and give me thine.

So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.

And change your favors too.

So shall your loves woo contrary,
deceived by these removes.

Come on then.

Wear the favors most in sight.

But in this changing what is your intent?

The effect of my intent
is to cross theirs.

They do it but in mocking merriment.

And mock for mock is only my intent.

Their several counsels they unbosom shall

to loves mistook, and so be mocked withal

upon the next occasion that we meet,

with visages displayed, to talk and greet.

But shall we dance if
they desire us to it?

No, to the death we shall not move a foot.

Nor to their penned
speech render we no grace.

But while it is spoke
each turn away her face.

Why that contempt will
kill the speaker's heart

and quite divorce his
memory from his part.

Therefore I do it and I make no doubt

the rest will ne'er come in, if he be out.

There's no such sport as
sport by sport or thrown,

to make theirs ours and
ours none but our own.

So shall we stay, mocking intended game,

and they, well mocked,
depart away with shame.

[trumpets sounding]

The trumpet sounds.

Be masked, the maskers come.

[tense music]

♪ All hail, the richest
beauties on the earth ♪

♪ A wholly parcel of the fairest dames ♪

♪ That ever turned backs on mortal views ♪

[Biron] Their eyes, villain, their eyes!

♪ That ever turned their
eyes on mortal views ♪

Out.

True, out indeed.

[Rosaline] Boyet what
would these strangers

know their minds.

If they do speak our
language, 'tis our will

that some plain man
recount their purposes.

Know what they would.

What would you with the princess?

[Biron] Nothing but peace
and gentle visitation.

[Rosaline] What would they, say they?

Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.

[Rosaline] Why that they
have and bid them so be gone.

She says you have it and you may be gone.

[Ferdinand] Say to her we
have measured many miles

to tread a measure with her on this grass.

They say they have measured many a mile

to tread a measure with you on this grass.

[Rosaline] It is not so.

Ask them how many inches is in one mile

if they have measured many.

The measure then of one is easily told.

If to come hither you have measured miles

and many miles, the princess bids you tell

how many inches doth fill up one mile.

[Biron] Tell her we measure
them by weary steps.

She hears herself.

[Rosaline] How many weary
steps of many weary miles

you have o'er gone are numbered
in the travel of one mile?

[Biron] We number nothing
that we spend for you.

Our duty is so rich, so infinite,

that we may do it still without account.

Vouchsafe to show the
sunshine of your face,

that we, like savages, may worship it.

[Rosaline] My face is but
a moon and clouded too.

[Ferdinand] Blessed are clouds,
to do as such clouds do.

Vouchsafe, bright moon and
these thy stars, to shine.

Those clouds removed upon our watery eyne.

[Rosaline] Oh vain petitioner!

Beg a greater matter.

Thou now requests but
moonshine in the water.

[Ferdinand] Then in our measure do

but vouchsafe one change.

Thou bid'st me beg, this
begging is not strange.

[Rosaline] Play music, then!

Nay, you must do it soon.

Not yet!

No dance!

Thus change I like the moon.

[Ferdinand] Will you not dance?

How come you thus estranged?

[Rosaline] You took the moon at full

but now she's changed.

[Ferdinand] Yet still she
is the moon and I the man.

The music plays.

Vouchsafe some motion to it.

[Rosaline] Our ears vouchsafe it.

[Ferdinand] But your legs should do it.

[Rosaline] Since you are strangers

and come here by chance,
we'll not be nice.

Take hands.

We will not dance.

[Ferdinand] If you deny to
dance, let's hold more chat.

[Rosaline] In private, then.

[Ferdinand] I am best pleased with that.

[Biron] White-handed mistress,
one sweet word with thee.

Honey and milk and sugar, there are three.

[Biron] Nay then, two treys
and if you grow so nice,

metheglin, wort and malmsey.

Well run, dice, there's
half-a-dozen sweets.

Seventh sweet, adieu.

Since you can cog, I'll
play no more with you.

[Biron] One word in secret.

Let it not be sweet.

[Biron] Thou grievest my gall.

Gall!

Bitter.

[Biron] Therefore meet.

[Dumain] Will you vouchsafe
with me to change a word?

[Maria] Name it.

[Dumain] Fair lady.

[Maria] Say you so?

Fair lord take that for your fair lady.

[Dumain] Please it you as much in private

and I'll bid adieu.

[Katharine] What, was your
vizard made without a tongue?

[Longaville] I know the
reason, lady, why you ask.

[Katharine] Oh for your
reason, quickly sir, I long.

[Longaville] You have a double
tongue within your mask,

and would afford my
speechless vizard half.

[Katharine] Veal quoth the Dutchman.

Is not veal a calf?

[Longaville] A calf, fair lady?

[Katharine] No a fair lord calf.

[Longaville] Let's part the word.

[Katharine] No I'll not be your half.

Take all and wean it, it may prove an ox.

[Longaville] Look how you butt yourself

in these sharp mocks!

Will you give horns, chaste lady?

Do not so.

[Katharine] Then die a calf
before your horns do grow.

[Longaville] A word in
private with you, ere I die.

[Katharine] Bleat softly then,
the butcher hears you cry.

The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen

as is the razor's edge invisible.

Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen

above the sense of sense.

So sensible seemeth their conference.

Their conceits have wings.

Fleeter than arrows, bullets,
wind, thought, swifter things.

[Rosaline] Not one word more.

My maids break off, break off.

[Biron] By heaven, all
dry-beaten with pure scoff!

[Ferdinand] Farewell mad
wenches, you have simple wits.

20 adieus, my frozen Muscovites.

[laughing]

Are these the breed of
wits so wondered at?

Tapers they are, with your
sweet breaths puffed out.

Well-liking wits they have,
gross, gross, fat, fat.

Oh poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!

Will they not think you
hang themselves tonight?

Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces?

This pert Biron was out
of countenance quite.

They were all lamentable cases.

The king was weeping ripe for a good word.

Biron did swear himself out of all suit.

Dumain was at my service and his sword.

No point, quoth I, my
servant straight was mute.

Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart

and trow you what he called me.

Qualm perhaps.

Yes!

[laughing]

Go sickness as thou art!

Well better wits have
worn plain statute caps.

But will you hear?

The king is my love sworn.

And quick Biron hath plighted troth to me.

And Longaville was for my service born.

Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.

Madam and pretty mistresses, give ear.

Immediately they will again be here

in their own shapes, for it can never be

they will digest this harsh indignity.

Will they return?

They will, they will, God knows,

and leap for joy, though
they are lame with blows.

Therefore change favors
and when they repair

blow like sweet roses in this summer air.

What shall we do

if they return in their own shapes to woo?

Good madam, if by me you'll be advised.

Let's mock them still as
well known as disguised.

Let us complain to them
what fools were here

disguised like Muscovites,
in shapeless gear.

And wonder what they were and to what end

their shallow shows and
prologue vilely penned.

Fair sir, God save you!

Where's the princess?

Gone to her tent.

Please it your majesty command
me any service to her there?

That she vouchsafe me
audience for one word.

I will and so will she, I know, my lord.

This fellow pecks up wit as pigeon's pease

and utters it again when God doth please.

He's wit's peddler and retails his wares

at wakes and wassails,
meetings, markets, fairs.

And we that sell by
gross, the Lord doth know,

have not the grace to
grace it with such show.

This is the ape of
form, monsieur the nice,

that when he plays at
tables, chides the dice

in honorable terms.

Oh he can sing mean, most
meanly and in ushering

mend him who can.

The ladies call him sweet.

The stairs, as he treads
on them, kiss his feet.

This is the flower that smiles on everyone

to show his teeth as
white as whale's bone.

And consciences that will not die in debt

give him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.

A blister on his sweet
tongue with my heart,

that put Armado's page out of his part.

See where it comes!

Behavior, what wert thou
till this man showed thee

and what art thou now?

All hail sweet madam and fair time of day!

Fair in all hail is foul, as I conceive.

Construe my speeches better, if you may.

Then wish me better,
I will give you leave.

We came to visit you and purpose now

to lead you to our court.

Vouchsafe it then.

This field shall hold
me and so hold your vow.

Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men.

Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.

The virtue of your eye must break my oath.

You nickname virtue, vice
you should have spoke.

For virtue's office
never breaks men's troth.

Now by my maiden honor, yet
as pure as the unsullied lily,

I protest.

A world of torment though I should endure,

I would not yield to
be your house's guest.

So much I hate a breaking cause to be

of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.

Oh you have lived in desolation here.

Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.

Not so, my lord.

It is not so, I swear.

We have had pastimes
here and pleasant game.

A mess of Russians left us but of late.

How madam, Russians.

Ay in truth, my lord, trim
gallants, full of courtship

and of state.

Madam, speak true.

It is not so, my lord.

My lady, to the manner of the days,

in courtesy gives undeserving praise.

We four indeed confronted were
with four in Russian habit.

Here they stayed an hour and talked apace

and in that hour, my lord,
they did not bless us

with one happy word.

I dare not call them
fools but this I think.

When fools are thirsty
they would fain have drink.

This jest is dry to me, fair gentle sweet.

Your wit makes wise things foolish.

When we greet with eyes best
seeing heaven's fiery eye,

by light we lose light.

Your capacity is of that
nature that to your huge store

wise things seem foolish
and rich things but poor.

This proves you wise and
rich, for in my eye--

I'm a fool and full of poverty.

But that you take what doth to you belong,

It were a fault to snatch
words from my tongue.

Oh I'm yours and all that I possess!

All the fool mine?

I cannot give you less.

Which of the vizards was it that you wore?

Where, when?

What vizard, why demand you this?

There, then, that vizard,
that superfluous case

that hid the worse and
showed the better face.

We are descried, they'll
mock us now downright.

Let us confess and turn it to a jest.

Amazed, my lord?

Why looks your highness sad?

Help, hold his brows or he'll swoon.

Why look you pale?

Seasick I think, coming from Muscovy.

Thus pour the stars down
plagues for perjury.

Can any face of brass hold longer out?

Here stand I, lady, dart thy skill at me.

Bruise me with scorn,
confound me with a flout,

thrust thy sharp wit quite
through my ignorance.

Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit.

And I will wish thee never more to dance,

nor never more in Russian habit wait.

Oh never will I trust to speeches penned

nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue.

Nor come in vizard to my friend,

nor woo in rhyme, like
a blind harper's song!

Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise.

Three-piled hyperboles,
spruce affectation.

Figures pedantical.

These summer flies have blown
me full of maggot ostentation.

I do forswear them and I here protest.

By this white glove, how
white the hand God knows,

henceforth my wooing
mind shall be expressed

in russet yeas and honest kersey noes.

And to begin.

Wench, so God help me long,

my love to thee is sound,
sans crack or flaw.

Sans sans, I pray you.

Yet have a trick of the old rage.

Bear with me, I'm sick,
I'll leave it by degrees.

These lords are visited.

You're not free for the
Lord's tokens on you do I see.

No they are free that
gave these tokens to us.

Our states are forfeit,
seek not to undo us.

It is not so, for how can this be true

that you stand forfeit,
being those that sue.

Peace, for I will not have to do with you.

Nor shall not if I do as I intend.

Speak for yourselves, my wit is at an end.

Teach us, sweet madam, for
our rude transgression,

some fair excuse.

The fairest is confession.

Were not you here but even now disguised?

Madam, I was.

And were you well advised?

I was, fair madam.

When you then were here,

what did you whisper in your lady's ear?

[Ferdinand] That more than all the world

I did respect her.

When she shall challenge
this, you will reject her.

[Ferdinand] Upon my honor, no.

Peace, peace, forbear.

Your oath once broke, you
force not to forswear.

[Ferdinand] Despise me when
I break this oath of mine.

I will and therefore keep it.

Rosaline.

What did the Russian whisper in your ear?

Madam he swore that he did hold me dear

as precious eyesight and did
value me above this world,

adding thereto moreover,
that he would wed me,

or else die my lover.

God give thee joy of him!

The noble lord most
honorably doth keep his word.

What mean you, madam?

By my life, my troth, I never
made this lady such an oath.

By heaven you did and to confirm it plain

you gave me this.

But take it sir, again.

My faith and this the princess I did give.

I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.

Pardon me sir, this jewel did she wear.

And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.

What will you have me or your pearl again?

Neither of either, I remit both twain.

[laughing]

I see the trick on't.

Here was a consent, knowing
aforehand of our merriment.

The ladies did change favors and then we,

following the signs, wooed
but the signs of she.

And now to our perjury to add more terror,

we're again forsworn in will and error.

Much upon this it is and might
not you forestall our sport

to make us thus untrue.

Full merrily hath this brave marriage,

this career, been run.

Lo he's tilting straight!

Peace, I've done.

[drum banging]

Welcome, pure wit!

Thank you.

Thou partest a fair fray.

Oh Lord sir, they would know
whether the three Worthies

shall come in or no.

Yes go bid them prepare.

We will turn it finely off, sir.

We will take some care.

Biron they will shame us,
let them not approach.

We're shame-proof, my lord.

And tis some policy to have one show worse

than the king's and his company.

I say they shall not come in.

Nay my good lord, let
me o'er rule you now.

That sport best pleases
that doth least know how.

Where zeal strives to content

and the contents dies in the
zeal of that which it presents.

Their form confounded
makes most form in mirth,

where great things laboring
perish in their birth.

A right description of our sport, my lord.

Anointed, I implore so much of

your royal sweet breath that
would utter a brace of words.

Doth this man serve God?

[Biron] Why ask you?

He speaks not like a man of God's making.

That is all one my fair,
sweet, honey monarch

for I protest, the schoolmaster
is exceeding fantastical

too, too vain.

Too too vain!

But I will put it down, as they say,

to [speaking in foreign language].

I wish you the peace of
mind, most royal couplement!

Here is like to be a goodly
presence of Worthies.

He presents Hector of Troy.

The swain, Pompey the Great.

The parish curate, Alexander.

Armado's page Hercules and
the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus.

[applauding]

I Pompey am.

You lie, you're not he.

I Pompey am.

With libbard's head on knee.

Well said old mocker, I must
needs be friends with thee.

I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big.

The Great.

[laughing]

It is Great, sir.

Pompey surnamed the Great.

That oft in field with targe and shield

did make my foe to sweat.

And traveling along this coast,
I here am come by chance.

And lay my arms before the legs

of this sweet lass of France.

[applauding]

If your ladyship would say
thanks Pompey, I had done.

Great thanks, Great Pompey.

'Tis not so much worth
but I hope I was perfect.

I made a little fault in Great.

No no no no.

My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey
proves the best Worthy.

[gentle music]

[audience applauding]

When in the world I lived,
I was the world's commander.

[Man] Louder!

By east, by west, by north, south,

I spread my conquering might.

My scutcheon plain declares
that I am Alisander.

Your nose says no you're
not for it stands too right.

[Man] Your nose smells no

in this most tender smelling knight.

The conqueror is dismayed.

Proceed, good Alexander.

When in the world I lived,

I was the world's commander.

[Boyet] Most true 'tis right,
you were so, Alisander.

[Biron] Pompey the Great!

Your servant and Costard.

Take away the conqueror,
take away Alisander.

Oh sir, you've overthrown
Alisander the Conqueror!

A conqueror with a fear to speak.

Run away for shame, Alisander.

There it shall please
you, a foolish mild man.

An honest man, look you and soon dashed.

He's a marvelous good neighbor, faith

and a very good bowler.

But for Alisander,
alas, you see how it is.

A little o'er parted.

But there are Worthies
a-coming will speak their mind

in some other sort.

Stand aside good Pompey.

[applauding]

Great Hercules is presented by this imp,

whose club killed Cerberus,
the three-headed canis.

And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

thus did he strangle
serpents in his manus.

[Audience] Oh!

[speaking in foreign language]

He seemeth in minority,

ergo I come with this apology.

[audience applauding]

Keep some state in thy exit and vanish.

[laughing]

I Judas am.

A Judas!

Not Iscariot, sir.

Judas yclept Maccabaeus.

Oh Judas Maccabaeus yclept is plain Judas.

I Judas am.

The more shame for you, Judas.

What mean you, sir?

To make Judas hang himself.

Begin sir, you are my elder.

Well followed, Judas
was hanged on an elder.

I will not be put out of countenance.

Because thou hast no face.

What is this?

[Boyet] A cittern-head?

[Dumain] The head of a bodkin.

[Biron] A death's face in a ring.

The face of an old Roman coin scarce seen.

Forward for we've put thee in countenance.

You've put me out of countenance.

False, we have given thee faces.

But you've out-faced them all.

And thou wert a lion, we would do so.

Therefore as he is an ass let him go.

And so adieu, sweet Jude!

Nay, why dost thou stay?

[Dumain] For the latter end of his name.

[Biron] For the ass to
the Jude give it him.

Jud-ass, away!

This is not generous,
not gentle, not humble.

A light for Monsieur Judas!

It grows dark, he may stumble.

Alas poor Maccabaeus,
how hath he been baited!

Hide thy head, Achilles.

Here comes Hector in arms.

[Boyet] But is this Hector?

[Ferdinand] I think Hector
was not so clean-timbered.

[Longaville] His leg is
too big for Hector's.

[Dumain] More calf, certain.

No he's best endued in the small.

[laughing]

This cannot be Hector.

He's a god or a painter,
for he makes faces.

The armipotent Mars,
of lances the almighty,

gave Hector a gift.

A gilt nutmeg.

A lemon.

Stuck with cloves.

No no no, cloven.

Peace!

The armipotent Mars,
of lances the almighty,

gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion.

A man so breathed that
certain he would fight yea

from morn till night
from out of his pavilion.

I am that flower.

That mint.

That columbine.

Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.

I must rather give it the rein,

for it runs against Hector.

Ay and Hector's a greyhound.

[laughing]

The sweet war man is dead and rotten.

Sweet chucks beat not
the bones of the buried.

When he breathed he was a man.

But I will forward with my device.

Sweet royalty, bestow on
me the benefit of hearing.

Oh speak, brave Hector.

We are much delighted.

This Hector far surmounted Hannibal.

The party is gone--

Fellow Hector.

She is gone.

She is two months on her way.

What says thou?

Faith unless you play the honest Troyan,

the poor wench is cast away.

She's quick.

The child brags in her belly already.

Tis yours.

Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?

Thou shalt die!

Then shall Hector be
whipped for Jaquenetta

that is quick by him and hanged for Pompey

that is dead by him.

[Dumain] Most rare Pompey!

Renowned Pompey!

[Biron] Greater than great,
great, great, great Pompey!

Pompey the Huge!

[Dumain] Hector trembles.

By the north pole, I challenge thee.

I will not fight with a
pole, like a northern man.

I'll slash, I'll do it by the sword.

I bepray you, let me borrow my arms again.

[Dumain] Room for the incensed Worthies!

I'll do it in my shirt.

[Dumain] Most resolute Pompey!

Master let me take you a buttonhole lower.

Do you not see Pompey is
uncasing for the combat?

What mean you?

You'll lose your reputation.

Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me.

I will not combat in my shirt.

Oh what reason has thou for it?

The naked truth of it is I have no shirt.

I go woolward for penance.

[laughing]

God save you, madam!

Welcome Mercade but that thou
interrupt'st our merriment.

I am sorry madam for the news I bring

is heavy in my tongue.

The king your father.

Dead for my life.

Even so.

My tale is told.

[Biron] Worthies, away!

The scene begins to cloud.

For mine own part I breathe free breath.

I've seen the day of wrong

through the little hole of discretion

and I will right myself like a soldier.

How fares your majesty?

Boyet, prepare.

I will away tonight.

Madam not so.

I do beseech you, stay.

Prepare I say.

I thank you, gracious lords

for all your fair endeavors.

And entreat out of a new sad soul

that you vouchsafe in your
rich wisdom to excuse or hide

the liberal opposition of our spirits.

If over-boldly we have borne ourselves

in the converse of breath

your gentleness was guilty of it.

Farewell worthy lord.

A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.

Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks

for my great suit so easily obtained.

The extreme parts of time extremely forms

all causes to the purpose of his speed

and often at his very loose decides that

which long process could not arbitrate.

And though the mourning brow of progeny

forbid the smiling courtesy of love

the holy suit which
fain it would convince,

yet since love's argument
was first on foot

let not the cloud of sorrow justle it

from what it purposed,
since to wail friends lost

is not by much so wholesome profitable

as to rejoice at friends but newly found.

I understand you not.

My griefs are double.

Honest plain words best
pierce the ear of grief.

For your fair sakes
have we neglected time,

played foul play with our oaths.

Your beauty, ladies,
hath much deformed us,

fashioning our humors
even to the opposed end

of our intents.

And what in us hath seemed ridiculous.

As love is full of unbefitting strains,

all wanton as a child, skipping and vain.

Formed by the eye and
therefore, like the eye,

full of strange shapes
of habits and of forms.

Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll

to every varied object in its glance.

Which party-coated presence of loose love

put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,

have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,

those heavenly eyes that
looked into these faults

suggested us to make.

Therefore, ladies, our love being yours,

the error that love
makes, is likewise yours.

We to ourselves prove false

by being once false for ever to be true

to those that make us both.

Fair ladies, you.

We have received your
letters full of love.

Your favors, the ambassadors of love.

And in our maiden council rated them

for courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy,

as bombast and as lining to the time.

But more devout than this in our respects

have we not been.

And therefore met your
loves in their own fashion,

like a merriment.

Our letters, madam, showed
much more than jest.

So did our looks.

We did not quote them so.

Now, at the latest minute of the hour,

grant us your loves.

A time, methinks, too short

to make a world-without-end bargain in.

No, no, my lord, your
grace is perjured much.

Full of dear guiltiness
and therefore this.

If for my love, as there is no such cause,

you will do aught, this
shall you do for me.

Your oath I will not
trust but go with speed

to some forlorn and naked hermitage,

remote from all the
pleasures of the world.

There stay until the 12 celestial signs

have brought about the annual reckoning.

If this austere insociable life

change not your offer
made in heat of blood.

If frosts and fasts, hard
lodging and thin weeds

nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,

but that it bear this trial and last love,

then, at the expiration of the year,

come challenge me, challenge
me by these deserts.

And by this virgin palm now
kissing thine I will be thine.

And till that instant
shut my woeful self up

in a mourning house, raining
the tears of lamentation

for the remembrance of my father's death.

If this thou do deny, let our hands part.

Neither entitled in the other's heart.

If this, or more than this, I would deny,

to flatter up these
powers of mine with rest.

The sudden hand of
death close up mine eye.

Hence hermit then.

My heart is in thy breast.

But what to me, my love?

But what to me?

A wife?

A beard, fair health and honesty.

With three-fold love I
wish you all these three.

Oh shall I say I thank you, gentle wife?

Not so, my lord.

A 12 month and a day I'll mark no words

that smooth faced wooers say.

Come when the king doth to my lady come,

then, if I have much
love, I'll give you some.

I'll serve thee true and
faithfully till then.

Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.

[Longaville] What says Maria?

At the 12 month end

I'll change my black gown
for a faithful friend.

Studies my lady?

Mistress, look on me.

Behold the window of my heart, mine eye.

What humble suit attends thy answer there.

Impose some service on me for thy love.

Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron,

before I saw you.

And the world's large tongue
proclaims you for a man

replete with mocks, full of
comparisons and wounding flouts

which you on all estates will execute

that come within the mercy of your wit.

To weed this wormwood
from your fruitful brain

and therewithal to win me, if you please,

without the which I am not to be won,

you shall this 12 month
term from day-to-day

visit the speechless sick

and still converse with groaning wretches.

And your task shall be,
with all the fierce endeavor

of your wit, to enforce the
pained impotent to smile.

To move wild laughter
in the throat of death?

It cannot be, it's impossible.

Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

Why that's the way to
choke a gibing spirit

whose influence is begot
of that loose grace

which shallow laughing
hearers give to fools.

A jest's prosperity lies in
the ear of him that hears it,

never in the tongue of him that makes it.

Then if sickly ears, deaf to the clamors

of their own dear groans,

will hear your idle scorns, continue then.

And I will have you and that fault withal.

But if they will not,
throw away that spirit

and I shall find you empty of that fault,

right joyful of your reformation.

A 12 month.

Well befall what will befall.

I'll jest a 12 month in a hospital.

And so I take my leave.

No madam, we will bring you on your way.

Our wooing doth not end like an old play.

Jack hath not Jill.

These ladies' courtesy

might well have made our sport a comedy.

[Ferdinand] Come sir.

It wants a 12 month and a
day and then 'twill end.

That's too long for a play.

[Don] Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me.

[Princess] Was not that Hector?

[Dumain] The worthy knight of Troy.

I will kiss thy royal
finger and take leave.

I am a votary.

I have vowed to Jaquenetta
to hold the plow

for her sweet love three years.

But most esteemed greatness,
will you hear the dialogue

that the two learned men have compiled

in praise of the owl and the cuckoo?

It should have followed
at the end of our show.

[Ferdinand] Call them forth
quickly, we will do so.

[upbeat music]

♪ When daises pied and violets blue ♪

♪ And lady smocks all silver white ♪

♪ And cuckoo buds of yellow hue ♪

♪ Do paint the meadows
the meadows with delight ♪

♪ The cuckoo then on every tree ♪

♪ Mocks married men ♪

♪ Mocks married men ♪

♪ For thus sings he cuckoo ♪

♪ Cuckoo cuckoo oh word of fear ♪

♪ Unpleasing to a married ear ♪

♪ A married ear ♪

♪ When icicles hang by the wall ♪

♪ And Dick the shepherd blows his nail ♪

♪ And Tom bears logs into the hall ♪

♪ And milk comes frozen home in pail ♪

♪ When blood is nipped and ways be foul ♪

♪ Then nightly sings the
staring owl tu-whit ♪

♪ Tu-who ♪

♪ Tu-whit tu-who ♪

♪ A merry note ♪

♪ While greasy Joan doth keel the pot ♪

♪ A merry note ♪

♪ While Joan doth keel the pot ♪

The words of Mercury are harsh

after the songs of Apollo.

You that way.

We this way.

♪ When shepherds pipe on oaten straws ♪

♪ And the merry lark's
are plowman's crooks ♪

♪ When turtles tread and rooks and daws ♪

♪ And rocks and daws ♪

♪ And maidens bleach their summer smocks ♪

♪ The cuckoo then on every tree ♪

♪ Mocks married men ♪

♪ When all aloud the wind doth blow ♪

♪ And coughing drowns the parson's saw ♪

♪ And birds sit brooding in the snow ♪

♪ And Marian's nose looks red and raw ♪

♪ When roasted crabs sit in the bowl ♪

♪ Then nightly sings the staring owl ♪

♪ Tu-who tu-wit tu-who ♪

♪ Tu-wit tu-who ♪

♪ A merry note ♪

♪ And greasy Joan doth keel the pot ♪

♪ A merry note ♪

♪ A merry note ♪

♪ While greasy Joan doth keel the pot ♪

♪ Doth keel the pot ♪

♪ Cuckoo ♪