Enter Ferdinand, King of Navarre, Berowne,
Longaville, and Dumaine. KING
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,
Th’ endeavor of this present breath may buy 5
That honor 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, 10
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, Dumaine, and Longaville, 15
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. He holds up a scroll. Your oaths are passed, and now subscribe your
names, 20
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. LONGAVILLE
I am resolved. ’Tis but a three years’ fast. 25
The mind shall banquet though the body pine.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs but bankrout quite the wits. He signs his name. DUMAINE
My loving lord, Dumaine is mortified.
The grosser manner of these world’s delights 30
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. He signs his name. BEROWNE
I can but say their protestation over.
So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, 35
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 enrollèd there;
And one day in a week to touch no food, 40
And but one meal on every day besides,
The which I hope is not enrollèd 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, 45
And make a dark night too of half the day—
Which I hope well is not enrollèd there.
O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep. | King Ferdinand of Navarre meets with his friends, Berowne, Longaville and Dumain. The King's excited about this scheme they've cooked up. They're going to get famous by establishing a school at the court for the next three years. The King wants them to sign their names to promise to obey the rules. Longaville agrees. He wants to work on his mind and forget his body. Dumain, too. He'll leave love and fame in favor of philosophy. Not so fast, says Berowne. He's into the studying part—but no girls? One meal a day? Only three hours of sleep a night? Is this prison? |
KING
Your oath is passed to pass away from these. 50 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 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. 55
What is the end of study, let me know? KING
Why, that to know which else we should not know. BEROWNE
Things hid and barred, you mean, from common
sense. KING
Ay, that is study’s godlike recompense. 60 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 65
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. 70
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, and that most vain
Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain: 75
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, 80
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. 85
Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun,
That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks.
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others’ books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights, 90
That give a name to every fixèd 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 naught but fame,
And every godfather can give a name. 95 KING
How well he’s read to reason against reading. DUMAINE
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. DUMAINE
How follows that? 100 BEROWNE
Fit in his place and time. DUMAINE
In reason nothing. BEROWNE Something then in rhyme. KING
Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost
That bites the firstborn infants of the spring. 105 BEROWNE
Well, say I am. Why should proud summer boast
Before the birds have any cause to sing?
Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled shows, 110
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 you out. Go home, Berowne. Adieu. BEROWNE
No, my good lord, I have sworn to stay with you. 115
And though I have for barbarism spoke more
Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
Yet, confident, I’ll keep what I have sworn
And bide the penance of each three years’ day.
Give me the paper. Let me read the same, 120
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. 125 BEROWNE
Let’s see the penalty. Reads: "On pain of
losing her tongue." Who devised this penalty? LONGAVILLE
Marry, that did I. BEROWNE
Sweet lord, and why? LONGAVILLE
To fright them hence with that dread penalty. 130 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 possible
devise." 135
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 140
To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father.
Therefore this article is made in vain,
Or vainly comes th’ admirèd princess hither. KING
What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. BEROWNE
So study evermore is overshot. 145
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. 150
She must lie here on mere necessity. | The others remind him he agreed to do it, but still, he's unconvinced. In the first of many long and elaborate speeches, Berowne argues against too much studying (like some other, um, excessive acts, it will make you go blind) and for experiencing life, especially the part including attractive women. While impressed by his eloquence, the others are unmoved. If you're not in, you're out, says the King. Nah, I was just being difficult, says Berowne. I'll sign. But wait a minute. Berowne is daunted by the fine print: any lady approaching the court will lose her tongue, and any man seen talking to her will be publicly humiliated. He reminds the King that the Princess of France is coming to meet about the surrender of Aquitaine. The King totally forgot about that. Well, he has to meet with her; that's a necessity. Berowne suggests that many more necessities will arise over the next three years, so many more exceptions will be made. The King agrees that these provisions will have to be scrapped. |
BEROWNE
Necessity will make us all forsworn
Three thousand times within this three years’
space;
For every man with his affects is born, 155
Not by might mastered, 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,
And he that breaks them in the least degree 160
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 keep his oath. He signs his name. But is there no quick recreation granted? 165 KING
Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted
With a refinèd traveler 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 170
Doth ravish like enchanting harmony,
A man of compliments, 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 175
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. 180 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? 185 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. 190 DULL, to King
Signior Arm-, Arm-, commends you.
There’s villainy abroad. This letter will tell you
more. He gives the letter to the King. COSTARD
Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching
me. 195 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! 200 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. 205 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 210
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 215
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? 220 BEROWNE
As we would hear an oracle. COSTARD
Such is the sinplicity 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 225
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. 230 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-colored melancholy, 235
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 240
nourishment which is called 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 prepost’rous event that draweth 245
from my snow-white pen the ebon-colored 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 250
base minnow of thy mirth,—" COSTARD
Me? KING reads
"that unlettered, small-knowing soul,—" COSTARD
Me? KING reads
"that shallow vassal,—" 255 COSTARD
Still me? KING reads
"which, as I remember, hight Costard,—" COSTARD
O, me! KING reads "sorted and consorted, contrary to thy
established proclaimed edict and continent canon, 260
which with—O with—but with this I passion to say
wherewith—" COSTARD
With a wench. KING reads
"with a child of our grandmother Eve, a
female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a 265
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." 270 DULL
Me, an ’t shall please you. I am Anthony Dull. KING reads "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. 275
Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heartburning
heat of duty,
Don Adriano de Armado." BEROWNE This is not so well as I looked for, but the
best that ever I heard. 280 KING
Ay, the best, for the worst. To Costard. 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 285
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. 290 KING
Well, it was proclaimed “damsel.” COSTARD
This was no damsel neither, sir. She was a
virgin. BEROWNE It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed
“virgin.” 295 COSTARD
If it were, I deny her virginity. I was taken
with a maid. KING
This “maid” will not serve your turn, sir. COSTARD
This maid will serve my turn, sir. KING
Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall 300
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, 305
And go we, lords, to put in practice that
Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. King, Longaville, and Dumaine exit. BEROWNE
I’ll lay my head to any goodman’s hat,
These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
Sirrah, come on. 310 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. 315 They exit. | With all the objectionable penalties out, Berowne finally signs. But he laments that it's going to be a dull three years. Has the King arranged for any entertainment? Oh but yes! A funny Spaniard who likes to make up words will tell them stories—his name is Armado. Berowne seems satisfied by this offering. Longaville offers up the peasant Costard for additional amusement. And here Costard comes now. With the Constable Dull, bearing a letter from Armado. The young scholars are eager to read it. Costard wants to get a word in first—the letter is about his involvement with a country girl Jaquenetta. Enough out of this clod, let's get to the letter from Armado. The King excitedly reads it—with a number of interruptions from Costard. It's a long, hilariously flowery creation tattling on Costard for breaking the rules and talking to a woman. The King asks Costard if he heard the proclamation threatening one year's imprisonment for talking to a wench. Costard tries to get Jaquenetta upgraded from "wench" to "damsel," "virgin," and "maid," but it makes no difference—he's sentenced to bran and water for a week. Don Armado will be his keeper. The King, Longaville and Dumain exit with renewed faith in their noble plans for self-denial. Skeptical Berowne stays behind with Costard, who is comically playing the martyr. |