Love’s Labour’s Lost(爱的徒劳)

VIP免费

2024-12-26 1 0 235.64KB 66 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

LOVE'S LABOUR'S

LOST

William Shakespeare

William ShakespeareWilliam Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

1595

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

ACT I.

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

SCENE I. Navarre. The King's park

Enter the King, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN

KING. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon

our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite

of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavour of this present breath may

buy That honour which 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, Berowne, 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 pass'd; and

now subscribe your names, That his own hand may strike his honour down

That violates the smallest branch herein. If you are arm'd to do as sworn to

do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. LONGAVILLE. I am

resolv'd; 'tis but a three years' fast. The mind shall banquet, though the

body pine. Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits Make rich the

ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. DUMAIN. 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. BEROWNE. I can but say their

protestation over; So much, dear liege, I have 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. O, these are barren tasks, too hard

to keep, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep! KING. Your oath is pass'd

to pass away from these. BEROWNE. Let me say no, my liege, an if you

please: I only swore to study with your Grace, And stay here in your court

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

for three years' space. LONGAVILLE. You swore to that, Berowne, and to

the rest. BEROWNE. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the

end of study, let me know. KING. Why, that to know which else we should

not know. BEROWNE. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common

sense? KING. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. BEROWNE. Come

on, then; I will 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 will

ne'er say no. KING. These be the stops that hinder study quite, And train

our intellects to vain delight. BEROWNE. Why, all delights are vain; but

that most vain Which, with pain purchas'd, 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. Study is like the heaven's

glorious sun, That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; Small have

continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books.

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 wot not what they are. Too much to know is to know nought but fame;

And every godfather can give a name. KING. How well he's read, to

reason against reading! DUMAIN. Proceeded well, to stop all good

proceeding! LONGAVILLE. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the

weeding. BEROWNE. The spring is near, when green geese are a-

breeding. DUMAIN. How follows that? BEROWNE. Fit in his place and

time. DUMAIN. In reason nothing. BEROWNE. Something then in rhyme.

LONGAVILLE. Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost That bites the

first-born infants of the spring. BEROWNE. Well, say I am; why should

proud summer boast Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

I joy in any abortive birth? At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than

wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows; But like of each thing that in

season grows; So you, to study now it is too late, Climb o'er the house to

unlock the little gate. KING. Well, sit out; go home, Berowne; adieu.

BEROWNE. No, my good lord; I have 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 have swore, And bide the

penance of each three years' day. Give me the paper; let me read the same;

And to the strictest decrees I'll write my name. KING. How well this

yielding rescues thee from shame! BEROWNE. [Reads] 'Item. That no

woman shall come within a mile of my court'- Hath this been proclaimed?

LONGAVILLE. Four days ago. BEROWNE. Let's see the penalty. [Reads]

'-on pain of losing her tongue.' Who devis'd this penalty? LONGAVILLE.

Marry, that did I. BEROWNE. Sweet lord, and why? LONGAVILLE. To

fright them hence with that dread penalty. BEROWNE. A dangerous law

against gentility. [Reads] '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 mild of grace and complete majesty-

About surrender up of Aquitaine To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father;

Therefore this article is made in vain, Or vainly comes th' admired

princess hither. KING. What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot.

BEROWNE. So study evermore is over-shot. While it doth study to have

what it would, It doth forget to do the thing it should; And when it hath the

thing it hunteth most, 'Tis won as towns with fire- so won, so lost. KING.

We must of force dispense with this decree; She must lie here on mere

necessity. BEROWNE. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three

thousand times within this three years' space; For every man with his

affects is born, Not by might mast'red, but by special grace. 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; [Subscribes] 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 am the last that will last

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

keep his oath. But is there no quick recreation granted? KING. Ay, that

there is. Our court, you know, is haunted With a refined traveller of Spain,

A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases

in his brain; One who 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. BEROWNE. Armado is a most illustrious

wight, A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. LONGAVILLE.

Costard the swain and he shall be our sport; And so to study three years is

but short.

Enter DULL, a constable, with a letter, and COSTARD

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 farborough; but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.

BEROWNE. This is he. DULL. Signior Arme- Arme- 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 low 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 hearing? 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

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

hear an oracle. COSTARD. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after

the flesh. KING. [Reads] 'Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and sole

dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god and body's fost'ring patron'-

COSTARD. Not a word of Costard yet. KING. [Reads] '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. [Reads] '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 prepost'rous 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! KING. 'sorted and

consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed edict and continent

canon; which, with, O, with- but with this I passion to say wherewith-'

COSTARD. With a wench. King. '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, Antony Dull, a man of good

repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.' DULL. Me, an't shall please you;

I am Antony Dull. KING. '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.'

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

BEROWNE. This is not so well as I look'd for, but the best that ever I

heard. KING. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to this?

COSTARD. Sir, I confess the wench. KING. Did you hear the

proclamation? COSTARD. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of

the marking of it. KING. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be

taken with a wench. COSTARD. I was taken with none, sir; I was taken

with a damsel. KING. Well, it was proclaimed damsel. COSTARD. This

was no damsel neither, sir; she was a virgin. KING. It is so varied too, for

it was proclaimed virgin. COSTARD. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was

taken with a maid. KING. This 'maid' not serve your turn, sir. COSTARD.

This maid will serve my turn, sir. KING. Sir, I will pronounce your

sentence: you shall fast a week with bran and water. COSTARD. I had

rather pray a month with mutton and porridge. KING. And Don Armado

shall be your keeper. My Lord Berowne, see him delivered o'er; And go

we, lords, to put in practice that Which each to other hath so strongly

sworn. Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN BEROWNE. I'll lay

my head to any good man's hat These oaths and laws will prove an idle

scorn. Sirrah, come on. COSTARD. I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is I

was taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore

welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again;

and till then, sit thee down, sorrow. Exeunt

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

SCENE II. The park

Enter ARMADO and MOTH, his page

ARMADO. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows

melancholy? MOTH. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. ARMADO.

Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp. MOTH. No, no; O

Lord, sir, no! ARMADO. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy,

my tender juvenal? MOTH. By a familiar demonstration of the working,

my tough signior. ARMADO. Why tough signior? Why tough signior?

MOTH. Why tender juvenal? Why tender juvenal? ARMADO. I spoke it,

tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to thy young days,

which we may nominate tender. MOTH. And I, tough signior, as an

appertinent title to your old time, which we may name tough. ARMADO.

Pretty and apt. MOTH. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or

I apt, and my saying pretty? ARMADO. Thou pretty, because little.

MOTH. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? ARMADO. And

therefore apt, because quick. MOTH. Speak you this in my praise, master?

ARMADO. In thy condign praise. MOTH. I will praise an eel with the

same praise. ARMADO. that an eel is ingenious? MOTH. That an eel is

quick. ARMADO. I do say thou art quick in answers; thou heat'st my

blood. MOTH. I am answer'd, sir. ARMADO. I love not to be cross'd.

MOTH. [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary: crosses love not him.

ARMADO. I have promised to study three years with the Duke. MOTH.

You may do it in an hour, sir. ARMADO. Impossible. MOTH. How many

is one thrice told? ARMADO. I am ill at reck'ning; it fitteth the spirit of a

tapster. MOTH. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. ARMADO. I

confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete man. MOTH. Then I

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

ARMADO. It doth amount to one more than two. MOTH. Which the base

vulgar do call three. ARMADO. True. MOTH. Why, sir, is this such a

piece of study? Now here is three studied ere ye'll thrice wink; and how

easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and study three years in two

words, the dancing horse will tell you. ARMADO. A most fine figure!

MOTH. [Aside] To prove you a cipher. ARMADO. I will hereupon

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

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 humour of affection

would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire

prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devis'd curtsy. I

think scorn to sigh; methinks I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort me, boy;

what great men have been in love? MOTH. Hercules, master. ARMADO.

Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet

my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. MOTH. 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. ARMADO. O

well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier as

much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was

Samson's love, my dear Moth? MOTH. A woman, master. ARMADO. Of

what complexion? MOTH. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one

of the four. ARMADO. Tell me precisely of what complexion. MOTH. Of

the sea-water green, sir. ARMADO. Is that one of the four complexions?

MOTH. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too. ARMADO. Green,

indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love of that colour, methinks

Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit. MOTH.

It was so, sir; for she had a green wit. ARMADO. My love is most

immaculate white and red. MOTH. Most maculate thoughts, master, are

mask'd under such colours. ARMADO. Define, define, well-educated

infant. MOTH. My father's wit my mother's tongue assist me! ARMADO.

Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical! MOTH. If she be

made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known; For blushing

cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by pale white shown. Then if she fear,

or be to blame, By this you shall not know; For still her cheeks possess the

same Which native she doth owe. A dangerous rhyme, master, against the

reason of white and red. ARMADO. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King

and the Beggar? MOTH. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some

three ages since; but I think now 'tis not to be found; or if it were, it would

neither serve for the writing nor the tune. ARMADO. I will have that

subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty

precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

LOVE'SLABOUR'SLOST1LOVE'SLABOUR'SLOSTWilliamShakespeareWilliamShakespeareWilliamShakespeareWilliamShakespeare1595LOVE'SLABOUR'SLOST2ACTI.LOVE'SLABOUR'SLOST3SCENEI.Navarre.TheKing'sparkEntertheKing,BEROWNE,LONGAVILLE,andDUMAINKING.Letfame,thatallhuntafterintheirlives,Liveregist'reduponourbrazentombs,...

展开>> 收起<<

Love’s Labour’s Lost(爱的徒劳).pdf

共66页,预览14页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Love’s Labour’s Lost(爱的徒劳)

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: