The King, he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself. They have
pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch, pitch that defiles. Defile! A
foul word! Well, set thee down, sorrow, for so they say the fool said,
and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love
is as mad as Ajax. It kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved
again, o’ my side! I will not love; if I do, hang me! I’ faith, I will
not. O, 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. And here is part of my rhyme, and here my
melancholy. Well, she hath one o’ my sonnets already. The clown bore
it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it. Sweet clown, sweeter fool,
sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three
were in. Here comes one with a paper. God give him grace to groan!
The King, he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself. They have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch, pitch that defiles. Defile! A foul word! Well, set you down, sorrow, for so they say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax. It kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved again, o’ my side! I will not love; if I do, hang me! I’ faith, I will not. O, 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 has taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy. And here is pare of my rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she has one o’ my sonnets already. The clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady has it. Sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper. God give him grace to groan!
The King, he is hunting the deer; I am coursing myself. They have pitched a toil; I am toiling in a pitch, pitch that defiles. Defile! A foul word! Well, set you down, sorrow, for so they say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax. It
the king, he is hunting the deer; i am coursing myself
Ay me!
Ay me!
Oh no!
help
with thy birdbolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
with your birdbolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
with your birdbolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
with your birdbolt under the left pap
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.
Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep.
No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
And they thy glory through my grief will show.
But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel
No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell._
How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper.
Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As your 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 does your face, through tears of mine give light. Thou shin’st in every tear that I do weep. No drop but as a coach does carry you; So ridest you triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they your glory through my grief will show. But do not love yourself; then you wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens, how far do you excel No yought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell._ How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper. Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As your 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 does your face, through tears of mine give light. Thou shin’st in
to those fresh morning drops upon the rose, as your eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote the
Ay me! I am forsworn.
Ay me! I am forsworn.
Ay me! I am forsworn.
ay me i am forsworn
Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers
In love, I hope. Sweet fellowship in shame.
In love, I hope. Sweet fellowship in shame.
In love, I hope. Sweet fellowship in shame.
in love, i hope sweet fellowship in shame
One drunkard loves another of the name.
One drunkard loves another of the name.
One drunkard loves another of the name.
one drunkard loves another of the name
Am I the first that have been perjured so?
Am I the first that have been perjured so?
Am I the first that have been perjured so?
am i the first that have been perjured so
I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know.
Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,
The shape of love’s Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity.
I could put you in comfort: not by two that I know. Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of love’s Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity.
I could put you in comfort: not by two that I know. Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of love’s Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity.
i could put you in comfort: not by two that i know
I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move.
O sweet Maria, empress of my love,
These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move. O sweet Maria, empress of my love, These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move. O sweet Maria, empress of my love, These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
i fear these stubborn lines lack power to move
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose.
Disfigure not his shop.
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose. Disfigure not his shop.
O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid’s hose. Disfigure not his shop.
o, rhymes are guards on wanton cupid’s hose
This same shall go.
This same will go.
This same gonna go.
this same shall go
Scene 4-3 has a unique nested architecture. It is essentially three eavesdropping scenes nested inside each other, like Russian dolls. Berowne hides first (alone, watching). The King enters and hides when Longaville approaches. When Dumaine enters, three men are hidden. As each layer is uncovered, the exposure is symmetrical: Longaville exposes Dumaine, the King exposes Longaville, Berowne exposes the King—and then Jaquenetta exposes Berowne. The scene is a precise machine for humiliation: each man's superiority is immediately undercut by revelation of his own identical position. It is one of the most elegant comic constructions in Renaissance drama.
This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity,
A green goose a goddess. Pure, pure idolatry.
God amend us, God amend! We are much out o’ th’ way.
This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity, A green goose a goddess. Pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! We are much out o’ th’ way.
This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity, A green goose a goddess. Pure, pure idolatry. God amend us, God amend! We are much out o’ th’ way.
this is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity, a green goose a goddess
By whom shall I send this?—Company! Stay.
By whom will I send this?—Company! Stay.
By whom gonna I send this?—Company! Stay.
by whom shall i send this —company stay
All hid, all hid, an old infant play.
Like a demigod here sit I in the sky,
And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’er-eye.
More sacks to the mill. O heavens, I have my wish.
Dumaine transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish!
All hid, all hid, an old infant play. Like a demigod here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’er-eye. More sacks to the mill. O heavens, I have my wish. Dumaine transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish!
All hid, all hid, an old infant play. Like a demigod here sit I in the sky, And wretched fools’ secrets heedfully o’er-eye. More sacks to the mill. O heavens, I have my wish. Dumaine transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish!
all hid, all hid, an old infant play
O most divine Kate!
O most divine Kate!
O most divine Kate!
o most divine kate
O most profane coxcomb!
O most profane coxcomb!
O most profane coxcomb!
o most profane coxcomb
By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
by heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye
By earth, she is but corporal. There you lie.
By earth, she is but corporal. Thbefore you lie.
By earth, she is but corporal. Thbefore you lie.
by earth, she is but corporal thbefore you lie
Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted.
Her amber hairs for foul has amber quoted.
Her amber hairs for foul has amber quoted.
her amber hairs for foul has amber quoted
An amber-coloured raven was well noted.
An amber-coloured raven was well noted.
An amber-coloured raven was well noted.
an amber-coloured raven was well noted
As upright as the cedar.
As upright as the cedar.
As upright as the cedar.
as upright as the cedar
Stoop, I say.
Her shoulder is with child.
Stoop, I say. Her shoulder is with child.
Stoop, I say. Her shoulder is with child.
stoop, i say her shoulder is with child
As fair as day.
As fair as day.
As fair as day.
as fair as day
Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine.
Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine.
Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine.
ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine
O, that I had my wish!
O, that I had my wish!
O, that I had my wish!
o, that i had my wish
And I had mine!
And I had mine!
And I had mine!
and i had mine
And I mine too, good Lord!
And I mine too, good Lord!
And I mine too, good Lord!
and i mine too, good lord
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word?
amen, so i had mine is not that a good word
I would forget her; but a fever she
Reigns in my blood, and will remembered be.
I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remembered be.
I would forget her; but a fever she Reigns in my blood, and will remembered be.
i would forget her; but a fever she reigns in my blood, and will remembered be
A fever in your blood? Why, then incision
Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!
A fever in your blood? Why, then incision Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!
A fever in your blood? Why, then incision Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!
a fever in your blood
The speech beginning 'Have at you, then, affection's men-at-arms' (138) is the play's philosophical centerpiece—and one of the most debated passages in Shakespeare. It argues that love is superior to book-learning because: (1) the vow to study was itself a rejection of the world's real content; (2) love energizes every human faculty beyond its normal capacity; (3) women's eyes carry the same Promethean fire that makes all civilization possible. The argument is genuinely beautiful and partially true. It's also completely self-serving: Berowne was commissioned to produce a rationalization. His disclaimer at the end ('light wenches may prove plagues') suggests he knows this—even as he performs the speech. The play holds both things: the speech is real poetry and it's also a very smart lawyer's brief.
Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
Once more I’ll read the ode that I have writ.
once more i’ll read the ode that i have writ
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
Once more I’ll mark how love can vary wit.
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.
O, would the King, Berowne 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.
_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, “your cheeks may blow; Air, would I might triumph so!” But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne’er to pluck you from your 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 you; Thou for whom Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were, And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for your love._ This will I send, and something else more plain, That shall express my true love’s fasting pain. O, would the King, Berowne and Longaville Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill, Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note, For none offend where all alike do dote.
_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, “your cheeks may blow; Air, would I m
_on a day—alack the day
That in love’s grief desir’st society.
You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
That in love’s grief desir’st society. You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
That in love’s grief desir’st society. You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, To be o’erheard and taken napping so.
that in love’s grief desir’st society
You chide at him, offending twice as much.
You do not love Maria? Longaville
Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
His loving bosom to keep down his heart.
I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
And marked you both, and for you both did blush.
I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion,
Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion.
“Ay, me!” says one. “O Jove!” the other cries.
One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other’s eyes.
You chide at him, offending twice as much. You do not love Maria? Longaville Did never sonnet for her sake compile, Nor never lay his wreathed arms athware His loving bosom to keep down his heare. I have been closely shrouded in this bush, And marked you both, and for you both did blush. I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion. “Ay, me!” says one. “O Jove!” the other cries. One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other’s eyes.
You chide at him, offending twice as much. You do not love Maria? Longaville Did never sonnet for her sake compile, Nor never lay his wreathed arms athware His loving bosom to keep down his heare. I have been closely shrouded in this bush, And marked you both, and for you both did blush. I heard you
you chide at him, offending twice as much
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me.
Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove
These worms for loving, that art most in love?
Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
There is no certain princess that appears.
You’ll not be 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.
O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,
Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
To see a king transformed to a gnat!
To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
And critic Timon laugh at idle toys.
Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumaine?
And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
And where my liege’s? All about the breast?
A caudle, ho!
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. Ah, good my liege, I pray you pardon me. Good heare, what grace hast you thus to reprove These worms for loving, that are most in love? Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears There is 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. O, what a scene of foolery have I seen, Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen! O me, with what strict patience have I sat, To see a king transformed to a gnat! To see great Hercules whipping a gig, And profound Solomon to tune a jig, And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, And critic Timon laugh at idle toys. Where lies your grief, O, tell me, good Dumaine? And, gentle Longaville, where lies your pain? And where my liege’s? All about the breast? A caudle, ho!
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. Ah, good my liege, I pray you pardon me. Good heare, what grace hast you thus to reprove These worms for loving, that are most in love? Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears There is no certain princess that appears. You’ll not be perjured, ’tis a hateful th
now step i forth to whip hypocrisy
Too bitter is thy jest.
Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view?
Too bitter is your jest. Are we betrayed thus to your over-view?
Too bitter is your jest. Are we betrayed thus to your over-view?
too bitter is your jest
Not you to me, but I betrayed by you.
I that am honest, I that hold it sin
To break the vow I am engaged in.
I am betrayed by keeping company
With men like you, men of inconstancy.
When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
Or groan for Joan? Or spend a minute’s time
In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
A leg, a limb—
Not you to me, but I betrayed by you. I that am honest, I that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in. I am betrayed by keeping company With men like you, men of inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? Or groan for Joan? Or spend a minute’s time In pruning me? When shall you hear that I Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, A leg, a limb—
Not you to me, but I betrayed by you. I that am honest, I that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in. I am betrayed by keeping company With men like you, men of inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? Or groan for Joan? Or spend a minute’s time In pruning me? When shall you
not you to me, but i betrayed by you
Soft! Whither away so fast?
A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
Soft! Whither away so fast? A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
Soft! Whither away so fast? A true man, or a thief, that gallops so?
soft
I post from love. Good lover, let me go.
I post from love. Good lover, let me go.
I post from love. Good lover, let me go.
i post from love good lover, let me go
God bless the King!
God bless the King!
God bless the King!
god bless the king
What present hast thou there?
What present hast you thbefore?
What present hast you thbefore?
what present hast you thbefore
Some certain treason.
Some certain treason.
Some certain treason.
some certain treason
What makes treason here?
What makes treason hbefore?
What makes treason hbefore?
what makes treason hbefore
Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
no, it makes nothing, sir.
no, it makes nothing, sir.
no, it makes nothing, sir
If it mar nothing neither,
The treason and you go in peace away together.
If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together.
If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together.
if it mar nothing neither, the treason and you go in peace away together
The exchange about Rosaline's dark complexion (chunks 115-131) is one of the play's most complex passages. Berowne defends dark beauty on philosophical and aesthetic grounds: black beauty is the real thing; fair beauty is cosmetic imitation. This inverts the standard Elizabethan hierarchy (fair-skinned, blonde-haired was the Renaissance beauty ideal). It's a genuine counter-argument, not just flattery. But it also engages—uncomfortably by modern standards—with racial comparisons (Ethiopia, 'man of Ind') that encode the very hierarchy Berowne claims to subvert. The passage is simultaneously radical (defending a non-standard beauty) and problematic (the comparisons it deploys). Any production or reading has to sit with this complexity.
I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read.
Our person misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read. Our person misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read. Our person misdoubts it; ’twas treason, he said.
i beseech your grace, let this letter be read
Berowne, read it over.
Berowne, read it over.
Berowne, read it over.
berowne, read it over
Of Costard.
Of Costard.
Of Costard.
of costard
Where hadst thou it?
Whbefore hadst you it?
Whbefore hadst you it?
whbefore hadst you it
Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
of dun adramadio, dun adramadio
How now, what is in you? Why dost thou tear it?
How now, what is in you? Why do you tear it?
How now, what's in you? Why do you tear it?
how now, what is in you why do you tear it
A toy, my liege, a toy. Your Grace needs not fear it.
A toy, my liege, a toy. Your Grace needs not fear it.
A toy, my liege, a toy. Your Grace needs not fear it.
a toy, my liege, a toy
It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it.
It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it.
It did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it.
it did move him to passion, and therefore let’s hear it
It is Berowne’s writing, and here is his name.
It is Berowne’s writing, and hbefore is his name.
It is Berowne’s writing, and hbefore is his name.
it is berowne’s writing, and hbefore is his name
shame.
Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess.
shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess.
shame. Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess.
shame
What?
What?
What?
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.
O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
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. O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
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. O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
that you three fools lacked me fool to make up the mess
Now the number is even.
Now the number is even.
Now the number is even.
now the number is even
True, true, we are four.
Will these turtles be gone?
True, true, we are four. Will these turtles be gone?
True, true, we are four. Will these turtles be gone?
true, true, we are four
Hence, sirs, away!
Hence, sirs, away!
Hence, sirs, away!
hence, sirs, away
Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay
Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, 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 doth not obey an old decree.
We cannot cross the cause why we were born;
Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, 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 does not obey an old decree. We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, 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 does not obey an old decree. We cannot cross the cause why we were born; Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
sweet lords, sweet lovers, o, let us embrace
What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
what, did these rent lines show some love of thine
“Did they?” quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline
That, like a rude and savage man of Ind,
At the first op’ning 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?
“Did they?” quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline That, like a rude and savage man of Ind, At the first op’ning 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?
“Did they?” quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline That, like a rude and savage man of Ind, At the first op’ning 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 bro
“did they
What zeal, what fury hath inspired thee now?
My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
What zeal, what fury has inspired you now? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
What zeal, what fury has inspired you now? My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon; She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
what zeal, what fury has inspired you now
My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
Of all complexions the culled sovereignty
Do meet as at a fair in her fair cheek,
Where several worthies make one dignity,
Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues—
Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not.
To things of sale a seller’s praise belongs.
She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot.
A withered hermit, five-score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
Beauty doth varnish age, as if new born,
And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy.
O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine!
My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. O, but for my love, day would turn to night! Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet as at a fair in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself does seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues— Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not. To things of sale a seller’s praise belongs. She passes praise; then praise too short does blot. A withered hermit, five-score winters worn, Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye. Beauty does varnish age, as if new born, And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy. O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine!
My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. O, but for my love, day would turn to night! Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet as at a fair in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself does seek. Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues—
my eyes are then no eyes, nor i berowne
By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
By heaven, your love is black as ebony.
By heaven, your love is black as ebony.
by heaven, your love is black as ebony
Is ebony like her? O word divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.
O, who can give an oath? Where is 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.
Is ebony like her? O word divine! A wife of such wood were felicity. O, who can give an oath? Where is a book? That I may swear beauty does beauty lack If that she learn not of her eye to look. No face is fair that is not full so black.
Is ebony like her? O word divine! A wife of such wood were felicity. O, who can give an oath? Where is a book? That I may swear beauty does beauty lack If that she learn not of her eye to look. No face is fair that is not full so black.
is ebony like her
Berowne's confession ('Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess') is the scene's most revealing moment. He tears the letter in panic—and then, caught, pivots instantly to performance. His confession is not humble; it's theatrical. He immediately reframes his guilt as shared fault ('you three fools lacked me fool to make up the mess'). He turns exposure into comedy. His solidarity speech ('Sweet lords, sweet lovers—let us embrace!') follows directly from the confession but sounds like a general leading troops. He never stops performing even in defeat. This is what makes Berowne the most interesting character in the play: his self-awareness is genuine, but it never costs him anything, because he turns it into another performance.
O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
The hue of dungeons and the school of night;
And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
O paradox! Black is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons and the school of night; And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
O paradox! Black is the badge of hell, The hue of dungeons and the school of night; And beauty’s crest becomes the heavens well.
o paradox
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked,
It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect;
And therefore is she born to make black fair.
Her favour turns the fashion of the days,
For native blood is counted painting now;
And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
Paints itself black, to imitate her brow.
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked, It mourns that painting and usurping hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect; And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days, For native blood is counted painting now; And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, Paints itself black, to imitate her brow.
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. O, if in black my lady’s brows be decked, It mourns that painting and usurping hair Should ravish doters with a false aspect; And therefore is she born to make black fair. Her favour turns the fashion of the days, For native blood is counted paintin
devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light
To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
to look like her are chimney-sweepers black
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
And since her time are colliers counted bright.
and since her time are colliers counted bright
And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
and ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack
Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
dark needs no candles now, for dark is light
Your mistresses dare never come in rain,
For fear their colours should be washed away.
Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be washed away.
Your mistresses dare never come in rain, For fear their colours should be washed away.
your mistresses dare never come in rain, for fear their colours should be washed away
’Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
’Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
’Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain, I’ll find a fairer face not washed today.
’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.
I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday hbefore.
I’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday hbefore.
i’ll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday hbefore
No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
No devil will fright you then so much as she.
No devil gonna fright you then so much as she.
no devil will fright you then so much as she
I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
i never knew man hold vile stuff so dear
Look, here’s thy love, my foot and her face see.
Look, hbefore’s your love, my foot and her face see.
Look, hbefore’s your love, my foot and her face see.
look, hbefore’s your love, my foot and her face see
O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
Her feet were much too dainty for such tread.
O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread.
O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, Her feet were much too dainty for such tread.
o, if the streets were paved with thine eyes, her feet were much too dainty for such tread
O vile! Then, as she goes, what upward lies
The street should see as she walked over head.
O vile! Then, as she goes, what upward lies The street should see as she walked over head.
O vile! Then, as she goes, what upward lies The street should see as she walked over head.
o vile
But what of this? Are we not all in love?
But what of this? Are we not all in love?
But what of this? Are we not all in love?
but what of this are we not all in love
Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn.
Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn.
Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn.
nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn
Then leave this chat, and, good Berowne, now prove
Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
Then leave this chat, and, good Berowne, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
Then leave this chat, and, good Berowne, now prove Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
then leave this chat, and, good berowne, now prove our loving lawful, and our faith not torn
Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil.
Ay, indeed, thbefore; some flattery for this evil.
Ay, indeed, thbefore; some flattery for this evil.
ay, indeed, thbefore; some flattery for this evil
O, some authority how to proceed.
Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
O, some authority how to proceed. Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
O, some authority how to proceed. Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
o, some authority how to proceed
Some salve for perjury.
Some salve for perjury.
Some salve for perjury.
some salve for perjury
O, ’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 woman—
Flat treason ’gainst the kingly state of youth.
Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young,
And abstinence engenders maladies.
O, we have 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 have enriched you with?
Other slow arts entirely keep the brain,
And therefore, finding barren practisers,
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 their functions and their offices.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye.
A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind.
A lover’s ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the 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 valour, 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
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write
Until his ink were tempered with Love’s sighs.
O, 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 aught 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 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 fulfils the law,
And who can sever love from charity?
O, ’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 woman— Flat treason ’gainst the kingly state of youth. Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young, And abstinence engenders maladies. O, we have 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 have enriched you with? Other slow ares entirely keep the brain, And therefore, finding barren practisers, 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 yought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye. A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind. A lover’s ear will hear the lowest sound, When the 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 valour, 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 Make heaven drowsy with the harmony. Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were tempered with Love’s sighs. O, 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 ares, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish, all the world; Else none at all in aught 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 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 fulfils the law, And who can sever love from charity?
O, ’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 woman— Flat treason ’gainst the kingly state of youth. Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young, And abstinence engenders maladies. O, we have made a vow
o, ’tis more than need
Saint Cupid, then, and, soldiers, to the field!
Saint Cupid, then, and, soldiers, to the field!
Saint Cupid, then, and, soldiers, to the field!
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.
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.
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.
advance your standards, and upon them, lords
Now to plain dealing. Lay these glozes by.
Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
Now to plain dealing. Lay these glozes by. Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
Now to plain dealing. Lay these glozes by. Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
now to plain dealing
And win them too. Therefore let us devise
Some entertainment for them in their tents.
And win them too. Therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents.
And win them too. Therefore let us devise Some entertainment for them in their tents.
and win them too
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, masques, and merry hours
Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
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, masques, and merry hours Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
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, masques, and merry hours Forerun fair Love, strewing her wa
first, from the park let us conduct them thither
Away, away! No time shall be omitted
That will betime and may by us be fitted.
Away, away! No time shall be omitted That will betime and may by us be fitted.
Away, away! No time shall be omitted That will betime and may by us be fitted.
away, away
_Allons! allons!_ Sowed cockle reaped no corn,
And justice always whirls in equal measure.
Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
If so, our copper buys no better treasure.
_Allons! allons!_ Sowed cockle reaped no corn, And justice always whirls in equal measure. Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; If so, our copper buys no better treasure.
_Allons! allons!_ Sowed cockle reaped no corn, And justice always whirls in equal measure. Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; If so, our copper buys no better treasure.
_allons
The Reckoning
This is the structural and comedic centerpiece of the whole play. The eavesdropping geometry—observer-inside-observer-inside-observer—is perfectly engineered: each man believes himself the knowing outsider while being caught himself. Berowne's great pro-love speech, which runs nearly forty lines, is the play's philosophical climax: it argues that women's eyes are the true books, the real academes. It's also a magnificent piece of sophistry—self-serving rationalization dressed as transcendent wisdom—and Shakespeare lets us enjoy both things simultaneously.
If this happened today…
Four guys in the same friend group have all secretly started texting the same group of women they promised each other they'd avoid. Each one discovers another's messages but doesn't confess his own—until one person's DM history gets forwarded to the whole group chat. Then the most articulate one stands up and delivers a TED talk about why falling in love was actually the most intellectual thing they could have done.