Drama  |  William Shakespeare  |  Love's Labours Lost  |  Scene 1.

Love's Labours Lost — Scene 1. (Part 6 of 10)

BIRON

Sick at the heart.

ROSALINE

Alack, let it blood.

BIRON

Would that do it good?

ROSALINE

My physic says 'ay.'

BIRON

Will you prick't with your eye?

ROSALINE

No point, with my knife.

BIRON

Now, God save thy life!

ROSALINE

And yours from long living!

BIRON

I cannot stay thanksgiving.
Retiring

DUMAIN

Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?

BOYET

The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.

DUMAIN

A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well.
Exit

LONGAVILLE

I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?