For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it. [Exit DUKE. Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them, Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek you out? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter PROTEUS. Sil. Have done, have done. Here comes the gentleman. [Exit THURIO. Fal. Welcome, dear Proteus !—Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is. Sweet lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability.— Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. That you are worthless. Re-enter THURIO. Thu. Madam, my lord, your father, would speak with you. Sil. I wait upon his pleasure: come, sir Thurio, [Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended. Val. And how do yours? Pro. I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady, and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you: I know, you joy not in a love-discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now : I have done penance for contemning love; And hath so humbled me, as, I confess, There is no woe to his correction, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. No, but she is an earthly paragon. Val. Call her divine. Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O! flatter me, for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick you gave me bitter pills, And I must minister the like to you. Val. Then speak the truth by her if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Except thou wilt except against my love. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her, too: She shall be dignified with this high honour,— To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss, And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-smelling flower, And make rough winter everlastingly. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing. She is alone. Pro. Then, let her alone. Val. Not for the world. Why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd; nay, more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight [Exit VALENTINE. Even as one heat another heat expels, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, There is no reason but I shall be blind. SCENE V.-The Same. A Street. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE. Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. [Exit. But now I worship a celestial sun. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan. Launce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hang'd; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess | say, welcome. Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently; where for one shot of five pence thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia? Launce. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Launce. No. Speed. How then? Shall he marry her? Speed. What, are they broken? Launce. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. What an ass art thou? I understand thee not. Speed. What thou say'st? Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; I will forget that Julia is alive, Launce. Ay, and what I do too: look thee; I'll but For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter: lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Launce. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Launce. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is, then, that it will. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how Launce. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me : Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Pity the dearth that I have pined in, Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns. He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, And so by many winding nooks he strays Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Luc. Why, then your ladyship must cut your Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots: To be fantastic, may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. hair. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as—“tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Why, even what fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth : Only deserve my love by loving him, And presently go with me to my chamber, To take a note of what I stand in need of, To furnish me upon my loving journey. All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, My goods, my lands, my reputation; Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence. Come; answer not, but to it presently: I am impatient of my tarriance. [Exeunt. SCENE I-Milan. An Ante-chamber in the DUKE'S (A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd) Palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile: We have some secrets to confer about.-[Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal; But, when I call to mind your gracious favours Done to me, undeserving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that, Which else no worldly good should draw from me. A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care, I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean Enter VALENTINE, in his cloak. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter: stay with me awhile. I am to break with thee of some affairs That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. 'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought Duke. No, trust me: she is peevish, sullen, froward, Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady in Milano here, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence : Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, (For long agone I have forgot to court; Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words. Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Val. A woman sometime scorns what best contents her. Send her another; never give her o'er, Duke. But she I mean is promis'd by her friends Val. Why, then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe, That no man hath recourse to her by night. Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life. Val. Why then, a ladder quaintly made of cords, To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, So bold Leander would adventure it. Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by. Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder. Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone. How shall I best convey the ladder thither? Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Under a cloak that is of any length. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Val. Ay, my good lord. Duke. Then, let me see thy cloak : I'll get me one of such another length. Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.- 66 [Ladder and letter fall out. I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [Reads. Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that thither them importune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them, Because myself do want my servant's fortune. I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord should be.” What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee :" "Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.— Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' son) Thank me for this, more than for all the favours Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. Pro. Run, boy; run, run, and seek him out. Pro. What seest thou? Launce. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave; but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; Launce. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike? but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me, nor Pro. Whom wouldst thou strike? Launce. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. Launce. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear.-Friend Valentine, a word. Fal. My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good news, Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia! Hath she forsworn me? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me! What is your news? who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman: but what Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership? Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Launce. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are What news, then, in your paper? Pro. That thou art banish'd: O! that is the news, Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. Launce. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee? Launce. O, illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy Speed. Item, "She brews good ale." Launce. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, "She can sew." Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a Val. No more; unless the next word that thou wench, when she can knit him a stock? speak'st Have some malignant power upon my life: If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear, As ending anthem of my endless dolour. Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself, Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Speed. Item, "She can wash and scour." Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be wash'd and scour'd. Speed. Item, "She can spin." Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, "She hath many nameless virtues." Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, "She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath." Launce. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on. Speed. Item, "She hath a sweet mouth." Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, "She doth talk in her sleep." Launce. It's no matter for that, so she slip not in her talk. Speed. Item, "She is slow in words." Launce. O villain! that set this down among her vices? To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, "She is proud.” |