Speeches (Lines) for Jaquenetta in "Love's Labour's Lost"

Don Adriano de Armado. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!

Jaquenetta. Man?

Don Adriano de Armado. I will visit thee at the lodge.

Jaquenetta. That's hereby.

Don Adriano de Armado. I know where it is situate.

Jaquenetta. Lord, how wise you are!

Don Adriano de Armado. I will tell thee wonders.

Jaquenetta. With that face?

Don Adriano de Armado. I love thee.

Jaquenetta. So I heard you say.

Don Adriano de Armado. And so, farewell.

Jaquenetta. Fair weather after you!

Holofernes. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, they shall
want no instruction; if their daughters be capable,
I will put it to them: but vir sapit qui pauca
loquitur; a soul feminine saluteth us.

Jaquenetta. God give you good morrow, master Parson.

Holofernes. Piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a
tuft of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough
for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.

Jaquenetta. Good master Parson, be so good as read me this
letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me
from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it.

Holofernes. You find not the apostraphas, and so miss the
accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are
only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy,
facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret.
Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso,
but for smelling out the odouriferous flowers of
fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is nothing:
so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper,
the tired horse his rider. But, damosella virgin,
was this directed to you?

Jaquenetta. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange
queen's lords.

Holofernes. I will overglance the superscript: 'To the
snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady
Rosaline.' I will look again on the intellect of
the letter, for the nomination of the party writing
to the person written unto: 'Your ladyship's in all
desired employment, BIRON.' Sir Nathaniel, this
Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here
he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger
queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of
progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my
sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the
king: it may concern much. Stay not thy
compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu.

Jaquenetta. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life!

Biron. I post from love: good lover, let me go.

Jaquenetta. God bless the king!

Ferdinand. If it mar nothing neither,
The treason and you go in peace away together.

Jaquenetta. I beseech your grace, let this letter be read:
Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said.

Ferdinand. Biron, read it over.
[Giving him the paper]
Where hadst thou it?

Jaquenetta. Of Costard.