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Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would Upon this warrant shall you have access, effect
Where you with Silvia may confer at large; The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, Pro. I do, my lord.
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you; Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant Where you may temper her, by your persuasion, How she opposes her against my will.
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough; What might we do, to make the girl forget You must lay line to tangle her desires, The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio ? By wailful sonnets, whose composéd rhymes
Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine Should be full fraught with serviceable vows. With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred Three things that women highly hold in hate. I poesy.
Duke. Ay, but she 'll think that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it :
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart ; Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. Moist it again; and frame some feeling line,
Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. That may discover such integrity :
Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do : For Orpheus lute ‘was strung with poets' sinews; 'T is an ill-office for a gentleman;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, Especially against his very friend.
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. him,
After your dire lamenting elegies, Your slander never can endamage him;
Visit by night your lady's chamber-window Therefore the office is indifferent,
With some sweet concert: to their instruments Being entreated to it by your friend.
Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence Pro. You have prevailed, my lord : if I can do it, Will well become such sweet complaining grievance. By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, This, or else nothing, will inherit her. She shall not long continue love to him.
Duke. This discipline shews thou hast been in But say this weed her love from Valentine,
love. It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from
practice : him,
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, Let us into the city presently, You must provide to bottom it on me :
To sort some gentlemen well-skilled in music : Which must be done by praising me as much
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn,
Pro. We 'll wait upon your grace till after supper.
Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you. And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. I
SCENE I. — A Forest, near Mantua. | But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.
1st Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done 1st Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
1st Out. Have you the tongues ? Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.
Val. My youthful travel therein made me
| 3rd Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat If not, we'll make you sir, and rifle you.
friar, Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the vil. This fellow were a king for our wild faction. lains
1st Out. We'll have him ; sirs, a word. That all the travelers do fear so much.
Speed. Master, be one of them;
It is an honorable kind of thievery.
2nd Out. Tell us this: Have you any thing to 2nd Out. Peace; we'll hear him.
take to? 3rd Out. Ay, by my beard, will we;
Val. Nothing, but my fortune. For he's a proper man.
3rd Out. Know, then, that some of us are genVal. Then know, that I have little wealth to
Such as the fury of ungoverned youth A man I am crossed with adversity;
Thrust from the company of awful men:
Myself was from Verona banished
2nd Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Val. To Verona.
Whom, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart. 1st Out. Whence came you?
1st Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as Val. From Milan.
And, partly, seeing you are beautified
1st Out. What, were you banished thence ? A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want;-
2nd Out. Indeed, because you are a banished Val. For that which now torments me to re
man, hearse :
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: I killed a man, whose death I much repent; | Are you content to be our general ?
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
To make a virtue of necessity,
Thu Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not And live, as we do, in this wilderness ?
here. - 3rd Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. consórt ?
Thu. Whom? Silvia ? Say, ay, and be the captain of us all :
Pro. Ay, Silvia, — for your sake. We'll do thee homage, and be ruled by thee, Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentleLove thee as our commander, and our king.
men, 1st Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
diest. 2nd Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we
Enter Host, at a distance; and Julia, in boy's
clothes. have offered. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Host. Now, my young guest ! methinks you 're Provided that you do no outrages
allycholly: I pray you, why is it? On silly women, or poor passengers.
Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be 3rd Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. merry Come, go with us, we 'll bring the to our crews, Host. Come, we'll have you merry; I'll bring And shew thee all the treasures we have got; you where you shall hear music, and see the genWhich, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. tleman that you asked for.
[Exeunt. Jul. But shall I hear him speak ?
Host. Ay, that you shall.
Jul. That will be music. [Music plays. SCENE II. — Milan. Court of the Palace. Host. Hark! hark !
Jul. Is he among these ?
Host. Ay; but peace, let's hear 'em.
Who is Silvia? what is she, I have access my own love to prefer;
That all our swains commend her? But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
Holy, fair, and wise is she, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.
Is she kind, as she is fair ?
For beauty lives with kindness : She bids me think, how I have been forsworn
Love doth to her eyes repair, In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved :
To help him of his blindness ;
And, being helped, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling; The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.
She excels each mortal thing But here comes Thurio : now must we to her win
Upon the dull earth dwelling:
To her let us garlands bring. dow, And give some evening music to her ear.
Host. How now? are you sadder than you were
before? Enter THURIO and Musicians.
How do you, man? the music likes you not. Thu. How now, Sir Proteus ? are you crept be Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. fore us?
Host. Why, my pretty youth ? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love Jul. He plays false, father. Will creep in service where it cannot go.
Host. How? out of tune on the strings ?
Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my For me, — by this pale queen of night I swear, very heart-strings.
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
But she is dead.
For I am sure she is not buried. [Aside. Host. You would have them always play but one Sil. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, thing?
Survives; to whom, thyself art witness,
To wrong him with thy importúnacy? But, host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on, Pro. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. often resort unto this gentlewoman?
Sil. And so suppose am I; for in his grave Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me; Assure thyself my love is buried. he loved her out of all nick.
Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Jul. Where is Launce ?
Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, thence; by his master's command, he must carry for a pres- Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine. ent to his lady.
Jul. He heard not that.
[Aside. Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate,
Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels. The picture that is hanging in your chamber; Thu. Where meet we?
To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep:
For, since the substance of your perfect self
Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
Jul. If 't were a substance, you would sure de-
And make it but a shadow, as I am.
Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen; But, since your falsehood shall become you well Who is that, that spake ?
To worship shadows, and adore false shapes, Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it: truth,
And so, good rest.
That wait for execution in the morn.
Jul. Host, will you go?
Host. By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
Host. Marry, at my house : Trust me, I think Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man ! 't is almost day. Think’st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless, Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night To be seduced by thy flattery,
That e'er I watched, and the most heaviest. That hast deceived so many with thy vows ?
[Exeunt. Return, return, and make thy love amends.
SCENE III. — The same.
As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?
Sil. This evening coming.
Sil. At Friar Patrick's cell, There's some great matter she'd employ me in.- Where I intend holy confession. Madam, madam!
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship;
Good morrow, gentle lady. Silvia appears above, at her window.
Sil. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. Sil. Who calls ?
[Exeunt. Egl. Your servant, and your friend; One that attends your ladyship’s command. Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good mor
SCENE IV. — The same. , row. Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
Enter LAUNCE, with his Dog. According to your ladyship's impose,
Laun. When a man's servant shall play the cur I am thus early come, to know what service with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I It is your pleasure to command me in.
brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from Sil. O, Eglamour, thou art a gentleman ! drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers (Think not, I flatter, for I swear I do not), and sisters went to it! I have taught him — even Valiant, wise, remorseful, well-accomplished. as one would say precisely, “ Thus I would teach Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will a dog.” I was sent to deliver him, as a present to I bear unto the banished Valentine ;
Mistress Silvia, from my master; and I came no Nor how my father would enforce me marry sooner into the dining-chamber, but he steps me to Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorred. her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. 0, 't is Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say, a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep himself in all No grief did ever come so near thy heart, companies! I would have, as one would say, one As when thy lady and thy true love died, that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as Upon whose grave thou vowedst pure chastity. it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode ; think verily he had been hanged for 't; sure as I And, for the ways are dangerous to pass, live he had suffered for 't, you shall judge. He I do desire thy worthy company,
thrusts me himself into the company of three or four Upon whose faith and honor I repose.
gentlemenlike dogs, under the Duke's table: he Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
had not been there (bless the mark !) a pissing But think upon my grief, a lady's grief: while, but all the chamber smelt him. “Out with And on the justice of my flying hence,
the dog," says one; “What cur is that?” says To keep me from a most unholy match,
another; “Whip him out,” says the third; “ Hang Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues. him up,” says the Duke. I, having been acI do desire thee, even from a heart
quainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs; To bear me company, and go with me:
“Friend,” quoth I," you mean to whip the dog ?” If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
“Ay, marry, do I,” quoth he. “You do him the That I may venture to depart alone.
more wrong,” quoth I; “'t was I did the thing Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances ; you wot of.” He makes me no more ado, but Which since I know they virtuously are placed, whips me out of the chamber. How many masI give consent to go along with you;
ters would do this for their servant? Nay, I 'll be Recking as little what betideth me
sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings he 64