Shakespeare’s First Folio is a web novel made by William Shakespeare.
This webnovel is currently completed.
When you looking for Shakespeare’s First Folio Part 120, you are coming to the right site.
Read WebNovel Shakespeare’s First Folio Part 120
Peda. I do dine to day at the fathers of a certaine Pupill of mine, where if (being repast) it shall please you to gratifie the table with a Grace, I will on my priuiledge I haue with the parents of the foresaid Childe or Pupill, vndertake your bien venuto, where I will proue those Verses to be very vnlearned, neither sauouring of Poetrie, Wit, nor Inuention. I beseech your Societie
Nat. And thanke you to: for societie (saith the text) is the happinesse of life
Peda. And certes the text most infallibly concludes it.
Sir I do inuite you too, you shall not say me nay: pauca verba.
Away, the gentles are at their game, and we will to our recreation.
Enter Berowne with a Paper in his hand, alone.
Bero. The King he is hunting the Deare, I am coursing my selfe.
They haue pitcht a Toyle, I am toyling in a pytch, pitch that defiles; defile, a foule word: Well, set thee downe sorrow; for so they say the foole said, and so say I, and I the foole: Well proued wit. By the Lord this Loue is as mad as Aiax, it kils sheepe, it kils mee, I a sheepe: Well proued againe a my side. I will not loue; if I do hang me: yfaith I will not. O but her eye: by this light, but for her eye, I would not loue her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I doe nothing in the world but lye, and lye in my throate. By heauen I doe loue, and it hath taught mee to Rime, and to be mallicholie: and here is part of my Rime, and heere my mallicholie. Well, she hath one a’my Sonnets already, the Clowne bore it, the Foole sent it, and the Lady hath it: sweet Clowne, sweeter Foole, sweetest Lady. By the world, I would not care a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with a paper, G.o.d giue him grace to grone.
He stands aside. The King entreth.
Kin. Ay mee!
Ber. Shot by heauen: proceede sweet Cupid, thou hast thumpt him with thy Birdbolt vnder the left pap: in faith secrets
King. So sweete a kisse the golden Sunne giues not, To those fresh morning drops vpon the Rose, As thy eye beames, when their fresh rayse haue smot.
The night of dew that on my cheekes downe flowes.
Nor shines the siluer Moone one halfe so bright, Through the transparent bosome of the deepe, As doth thy face through teares of mine giue light: Thou shin’st in euery teare that I doe weepe, No drop, but as a Coach doth carry thee: So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Do but behold the teares that swell in me, And they thy glory through my griefe will show: But doe not loue thy selfe, then thou wilt keepe My teares for gla.s.ses, and still make me weepe.
O Queene of Queenes, how farre dost thou excell, No thought can thinke, nor tongue of mortall tell.
How shall she know my griefes? Ile drop the paper.
Sweete leaues shade folly. Who is he comes heere?
Enter Longauile. The King steps aside.
What Longauill, and reading: listen eare
Ber. Now in thy likenesse, one more foole appeare
Long. Ay me, I am forsworne
Ber. Why he comes in like a periure, wearing papers
Long. In loue I hope, sweet fellowship in shame
Ber. One drunkard loues another of the name
Lon. Am I the first y haue been periur’d so?
Ber. I could put thee in comfort, not by two that I know, Thou makest the triumphery, the corner cap of societie, The shape of Loues Tiburne, that hangs vp simplicitie
Lon. I feare these stubborn lines lack power to moue.
O sweet Maria, Empresse of my Loue, These numbers will I teare, and write in prose
Ber. O Rimes are gards on wanton Cupids hose, Disfigure not his Shop
Lon. This same shall goe.
He reades the Sonnet.
Did not the heauenly Rhetoricke of thine eye, ‘Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Perswade my heart to this false periurie?
Vowes for thee broke deserue not punishment.
A Woman I forswore, but I will proue, Thou being a G.o.ddesse, I forswore not thee.
My Vow was earthly, thou a heauenly Loue.
Thy grace being gain’d, cures all disgrace in me.
Vowes are but breath, and breath a vapour is.
Then thou faire Sun, which on my earth doest shine, Exhalest this vapor-vow, in thee it is: If broken then, it is no fault of mine: If by me broke, What foole is not so wise, To loose an oath, to win a Paradise?
Ber. This is the liuer veine, which makes flesh a deity.
A greene Goose, a G.o.ddesse, pure pure Idolatry.
G.o.d amend vs, G.o.d amend, we are much out o’th’ way.
Lon. By whom shall I send this (company?) Stay
Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play, Like a demie G.o.d, here sit I in the skie, And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye.
More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish, Dumaine transform’d, foure Woodc.o.c.ks in a dish
Dum. O most diuine Kate
Bero. O most prophane c.o.xcombe
Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye
Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye
Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted
Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted
Dum. As vpright as the Cedar
Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child
Dum. As faire as day
Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine
Dum. O that I had my wish?
Lon. And I had mine
Kin. And mine too good Lord
Ber. Amen, so I had mine: Is not that a good word?
Dum. I would forget her, but a Feuer she Raignes in my bloud, and will remembred be
Ber. A Feuer in your bloud, why then incision Would let her out in Sawcers, sweet misprision
Hey, thanks for coming to my web. This web site provides reading experience in webnovel genres, including fantasy, romance, action, adventure, reincarnation, harem, mystery, cultivation,magic, sci-fi, etc. Readers may read free chapters in this place.
Do not forget to use search menu above when you wanna read another chapters or another webnovel. You may search it by title or by author. Enjoy!