Berowne: From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They are the ground, the books, the academes, from whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. O, we have made a vow to study, lords, and in that vow we have forsworn our books; For when would you, my liege, or you, or you in leaden contemplation have found out such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes of beauty's tutors have enriched you with? Other slow arts entirely keep the brain, and therefore, finding barren practisers, scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil; But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, lives not alone immured in the brain but with the motion of all elements courses as swift as thought in every power and gives to every power a double power, above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye: A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind. A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound. Love's feeling is more soft and sensible than are the tender horns of cockled snails. Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste, for valour, is not Love a Hercules, still climbing trees in the Hesperides? Subtle as Sphinx, as sweet and musical as bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair. And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
[begins to sing the song "Cheek to Cheek"]
Berowne: Heaven, /I'm in heaven. /And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak...
