William Shakespeare : Complete Collection (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry...)
Navarre]
[ACT I]
[Scene I]
Enter Ferdinand, King of Navarre, Berowne, Longaville, and Dumaine.
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’ endeavor of this present breath may buy
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—
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,
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 honor 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.
Long.
I am resolved, ’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 bankrout quite the wits.
Dum.
My loving lord, Dumaine 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.
Ber.
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.
Ber.
Let me say no, my liege, and if you please:
I only swore to study with your Grace,
And stay here in your court for three years’ space.
Long.
You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest.
Ber.
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.
Ber.
Things hid and barr’d (you mean) from common sense.
King.
Ay, that is study’s godlike recompense.
Ber.
Com’ 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.
Ber.
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