Original: So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
Modern: The golden sun doesn’t give as sweet a kiss

Original: To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
Modern: To the fresh morning dew on a rose,

Original: As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
Modern: As your eyes do, when their bright rays have struck

Original: The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
Modern: The nighttime of tears that flow down my cheeks:

Original: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Modern: And the silver moon doesn’t shine even half as bright

Original: Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
Modern: Through the clear depths of the ocean,

Original: As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
Modern: As your face does shining through my tears;

Original: Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep:
Modern: You shine in every tear that I cry:

Original: No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
Modern: Every drop carries you like a fancy carriage;

Original: So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
Modern: So you ride victoriously through my sadness.

Original: Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
Modern: Just look at the tears that are building up in me,

Original: And they thy glory through my grief will show:
Modern: And they will display your beauty through my pain:

Original: But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
Modern: But don’t love yourself too much; then you’ll keep

Original: My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
Modern: My tears as mirrors, and continue to make me cry.

Original: O queen of queens! how far dost thou excel,
Modern: Oh greatest of all queens! How much you surpass everyone,

Original: No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.
Modern: No thought can imagine, nor any human tongue can express.

Original: How shall she know my griefs? I’ll drop the paper:
Modern: How will she know about my suffering? I’ll drop this letter:

Original: Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
Modern: Sweet pages, hide my foolishness. Who is that coming here?

Original: What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
Modern: What, it’s Longaville! And he’s reading! Let me listen carefully.

Act IV, Scene iii of Love’s Labour’s Lost

The scene opens with Berowne entering alone, carrying a paper with a love poem he has written to Rosaline. He reflects on his predicament of having broken his oath to avoid women, then hides when he sees the King approaching. The King enters reading his own love sonnet to the Princess, and Berowne observes from his hiding place. The King then conceals himself when Longaville enters with verses for Maria. Longaville in turn hides when Dumaine appears with a poem for Katherine. Each man believes himself alone as he expresses his lovesickness, creating a layered scene where the audience and the hidden observers witness each successive confession. Dumaine finishes his lament and exits, prompting Longaville to emerge and express shock at Dumaine’s broken vow.

The King then reveals himself to rebuke Longaville for also breaking his oath, at which point Berowne descends to chastise both the King and Longaville for their hypocrisy. However, Berowne’s moral superiority is short-lived when Jaquenetta and Costard enter with a letter that exposes Berowne’s own love for Rosaline—a letter that Berowne had given to Costard to deliver but was misdirected. Now all four men stand exposed as oath-breakers. Berowne then delivers a lengthy speech justifying their situation, arguing that their oaths were made in vain and that women’s eyes are actually books of learning that fulfill their true educational purpose. He convinces the other lords that they should pursue their loves honorably, and they all resolve to woo the ladies with revels and courtship, agreeing to advance “against the mind and heart of every woman.”

“Love’s Labour’s Lost” opens with Ferdinand, the King of Navarre, and his three courtiers—Berowne, Longaville, and Dumain—taking a solemn oath to dedicate three years to scholarly pursuits while forswearing the company of women, fasting, and sleeping only three hours per night. Their noble intentions are immediately complicated by the arrival of the Princess of France and her three attending ladies—Rosaline, Maria, and Katharine—who come on a diplomatic mission regarding Aquitaine. Despite their vows, all four men quickly fall in love with the visiting ladies, though they initially attempt to hide their feelings from one another.

The romantic complications intensify when each man tries to secretly woo his chosen lady while believing himself to be the only oath-breaker. Comic relief is provided by a cast of eccentric characters including Don Armado, a bombastic Spanish knight who loves the country wench Jaquenetta; Costard, a simple clown; and the pedantic schoolmaster Holofernes. The ladies, aware of the men’s affections, decide to test their suitors’ sincerity by disguising themselves at a masque, leading to a delightful scene of mistaken identities where each man woos the wrong woman.

The play builds toward what seems like a conventional comic resolution with multiple betrothals, but Shakespeare subverts expectations in the final act. News arrives that the Princess’s father, the King of France, has died, casting a somber shadow over the festivities. The ladies impose a year-long trial on their suitors—the men must prove their love’s constancy through a period of good works and patient waiting. The play concludes unusually for a Shakespearean comedy, with promises of future union rather than immediate marriages, ending with the famous songs of Spring and Winter that celebrate the eternal cycle of seasons and human nature.