List iconLove’s Labor’s Lost:
Act 3, scene 1
List icon

Love’s Labor’s Lost
Act 3, scene 1


Include links to:

Quill icon
Scene 1
Enter Braggart Armado and his Boy.

ARMADO Warble, child, make passionate my sense of
BOY sings Concolinel.
ARMADO Sweet air. Go, tenderness of years. He hands
 over a key. 
5Take this key, give enlargement to the
 swain, bring him festinately hither. I must employ
 him in a letter to my love.
BOY Master, will you win your love with a French
ARMADO 10How meanest thou? Brawling in French?
BOY No, my complete master, but to jig off a tune at the
 tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humor it
 with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a
 note, sometimes through the throat as if you
15 swallowed love with singing love, sometimes
 through the nose as if you snuffed up love by
 smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o’er the
 shop of your eyes, with your arms crossed on your
 thin-belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your
20 hands in your pocket like a man after the old
 painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a
 snip and away. These are compliments, these are
 humors; these betray nice wenches that would be
 betrayed without these, and make them men of

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

25 note—do you note me?—that most are affected
 to these.
ARMADO How hast thou purchased this experience?
BOY By my penny of observation.
ARMADO But O— but O—.
BOY 30“The hobby-horse is forgot.”
ARMADO Call’st thou my love “hobby-horse”?
BOY No, master. The hobby-horse is but a colt, aside
 and your love perhaps a hackney.—But have you
 forgot your love?
ARMADO 35Almost I had.
BOY Negligent student, learn her by heart.
ARMADO By heart and in heart, boy.
BOY And out of heart, master. All those three I will
ARMADO 40What wilt thou prove?
BOY A man, if I live; and this “by, in, and without,”
 upon the instant: “by” heart you love her, because
 your heart cannot come by her; “in” heart you love
 her, because your heart is in love with her; and
45 “out” of heart you love her, being out of heart that
 you cannot enjoy her.
ARMADO I am all these three.
BOY And three times as much more, aside and yet
 nothing at all.
ARMADO 50Fetch hither the swain. He must carry me a
BOY A message well sympathized—a horse to be ambassador
 for an ass.
ARMADO Ha? Ha? What sayest thou?
BOY 55Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse,
 for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
ARMADO The way is but short. Away!
BOY As swift as lead, sir.
ARMADO Thy meaning, pretty ingenious?
60 Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

 Minime, honest master, or rather, master, no.
 I say lead is slow.
BOY  You are too swift, sir, to say so.
 Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
ARMADO 65Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
 He reputes me a cannon, and the bullet, that’s
 I shoot thee at the swain.
BOY  Thump, then, and I flee.
He exits.
70 A most acute juvenal, voluble and free of grace.
 By thy favor, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face.
 Most rude melancholy, valor gives thee place.
 My herald is returned.

Enter Boy and Clown Costard.

BOY  A wonder, master!
75 Here’s a costard broken in a shin.
 Some enigma, some riddle. Come, thy l’envoi begin.
COSTARD No egma, no riddle, no l’envoi, no salve in
 the mail, sir. O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! No
 l’envoi, no l’envoi, no salve, sir, but a plantain.
ARMADO 80By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly
 thought, my spleen. The heaving of my lungs
 provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O pardon me,
 my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for
 l’envoi, and the word l’envoi for a salve?
85 Do the wise think them other? Is not l’envoi a salve?
 No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

 Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
 I will example it:
 The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
90 Were still at odds, being but three.

 There’s the moral. Now the l’envoi.
BOY I will add the l’envoi. Say the moral again.
 The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
 Were still at odds, being but three.

95 Until the goose came out of door
 And stayed the odds by adding four.

 Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with
 my l’envoi.
 The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee
100 Were still at odds, being but three.

 Until the goose came out of door,
 Staying the odds by adding four.

BOY A good l’envoi, ending in the goose. Would you
 desire more?
105 The boy hath sold him a bargain—a goose, that’s
 Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
 To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and
110 Let me see: a fat l’envoi—ay, that’s a fat goose.
 Come hither, come hither. How did this argument
 By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
 Then called you for the l’envoi.

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

COSTARD 115True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your
 argument in. Then the boy’s fat l’envoi, the goose
 that you bought; and he ended the market.
ARMADO But tell me, how was there a costard broken
 in a shin?
BOY 120I will tell you sensibly.
COSTARD Thou hast no feeling of it, Mote. I will speak
 that l’envoi.
 I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
 Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.

ARMADO 125We will talk no more of this matter.
COSTARD Till there be more matter in the shin.
ARMADO Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
COSTARD O, marry me to one Frances! I smell some
 l’envoi, some goose, in this.
ARMADO 130By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at
 liberty, enfreedoming thy person. Thou wert immured,
 restrained, captivated, bound.
COSTARD True, true; and now you will be my purgation,
 and let me loose.
ARMADO 135I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance,
 and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but
 this: bear this significant to the country maid
 Jaquenetta. (He gives him a paper.) There is remuneration
 (giving him a coin,) for the best ward of
140 mine honor is rewarding my dependents.—Mote,
 follow.He exits.
BOY Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
He exits.
 My sweet ounce of man’s flesh, my incony Jew!
 Now will I look to his remuneration. He looks at the
145“Remuneration”! O, that’s the Latin word for
 three farthings. Three farthings—remuneration.

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

 “What’s the price of this inkle?” “One penny.” “No,
 I’ll give you a remuneration.” Why, it carries it!
 Remuneration. Why, it is a fairer name than “French
150 crown.” I will never buy and sell out of this word.

Enter Berowne.

BEROWNE My good knave Costard, exceedingly well
COSTARD Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon
 may a man buy for a remuneration?
BEROWNE 155What is a remuneration?
COSTARD Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
BEROWNE Why then, three farthing worth of silk.
COSTARD I thank your Worship. God be wi’ you.
He begins to exit.
BEROWNE Stay, slave, I must employ thee.
160 As thou wilt win my favor, good my knave,
 Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
COSTARD When would you have it done, sir?
BEROWNE This afternoon.
COSTARD Well, I will do it, sir. Fare you well.
BEROWNE 165Thou knowest not what it is.
COSTARD I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
BEROWNE Why, villain, thou must know first.
COSTARD I will come to your Worship tomorrow
BEROWNE 170It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave,
 it is but this:
 The Princess comes to hunt here in the park,
 And in her train there is a gentle lady.
 When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her
175 name,
 And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her,
 And to her white hand see thou do commend

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

 This sealed-up counsel. There’s thy guerdon. He
 gives him money. 
COSTARD 180Gardon. He looks at the money. O sweet
 gardon! Better than remuneration, a ’levenpence
 farthing better! Most sweet gardon. I will do it, sir,
 in print. Gardon! Remuneration!He exits.
 And I forsooth in love! I that have been love’s whip,
185 A very beadle to a humorous sigh,
 A critic, nay, a nightwatch constable,
 A domineering pedant o’er the boy,
 Than whom no mortal so magnificent.
 This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
190 This Signior Junior, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid,
 Regent of love rhymes, lord of folded arms,
 Th’ anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
 Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
 Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
195 Sole imperator and great general
 Of trotting paritors—O my little heart!
 And I to be a corporal of his field
 And wear his colors like a tumbler’s hoop!
 What? I love, I sue, I seek a wife?
200 A woman, that is like a German clock,
 Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
 And never going aright, being a watch,
 But being watched that it may still go right.
 Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all.
205 And, among three, to love the worst of all,
 A whitely 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.
210 And I to sigh for her, to watch for her,
 To pray for her! Go to. It is a plague

Love’s Labor’s Lost
ACT 3. SC. 1

 That Cupid will impose for my neglect
 Of his almighty dreadful little might.
 Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, groan.
215 Some men must love my lady, and some Joan.
He exits.