Love's Labour's Lost By William Shakespeare Act I: Scene 1

DULL.
Which is the duke's own person?

BEROWNE.
This, fellow. What wouldst?

DULL.
I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his Grace's
tharborough: but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.

BEROWNE.
This is he.

DULL.
Signior Arm — Arm — commends you. There's villainy abroad:
this letter will tell you more.

COSTARD.
Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me.

KING.
A letter from the magnificent Armado.

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

LONGAVILLE.
A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!

BEROWNE.
To hear, or forbear laughing?

LONGAVILLE.
To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or, to
forbear both.

BEROWNE.
Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb
in the merriness.

COSTARD.
The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta.
The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner.

BEROWNE.
In what manner?

COSTARD.
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.

BEROWNE.
For the following, sir?

COSTARD.
As it shall follow in my correction; and God defend the right!

KING.
Will you hear this letter with attention?

BEROWNE.
As we would hear an oracle.

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

KING.
'Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and sole dominator of
Navarre, my soul's earth's god and body's fostering patron,'

COSTARD.
Not a word of Costard yet.

KING.
'So it is,' —

COSTARD.
It may be so; but if he say it is so, he is, in telling
true, but so. —

KING.
Peace!

COSTARD.
Be to me, and every man that dares not fight!

KING.
No words!

COSTARD.
Of other men's secrets, I beseech you.

KING.
'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I
did commend the black-oppressing humour 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 supper: so much for the time when. Now for the
ground which; which, I mean, I upon; it is ycleped 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-coloured ink which here thou viewest, beholdest,
surveyest, or seest. But to the place where, it standeth
north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy
curious-knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited swain,
that base minnow of thy mirth,' —

COSTARD.
Me.

KING.
'that unlettered small-knowing soul,' —

COSTARD.
Me.

KING.
'that shallow vassal,' —

COSTARD.
Still me. —

KING.
'which, as I remember, hight Costard,' —

COSTARD.
O me.

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Costard has to deliver two notes — one is a love letter, and the other is




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