Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Was this the idol that you worship so? Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was ick, 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. Pro. Except my mistress. Val. Sweet, except not any; 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-swelling flower, And make rough winter everlasting. 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. [own; Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine. And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee, Because thou seest me dote upon my love. My foolish rival, that her father likes, Only for his possessions are so huge, Is gone with her along; and I must after, For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy. Pro. But she loves you? Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd; Nay, more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determin'd of: how I must climb her window; The ladder made of cords; and all the means Plotted; and 'greed on, for my happiness. Good Protens, go with me to my chamber, In these affairs, to aid me with thy counsel. Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth: Some necessaries that I needs must use; Pro. I will Even as one heat another heat expeis, [Exit Val. Or as one nail by strength drives out another, Is by a newer object quite forgotten. SCENE V. The same. A Street. [Exit. Enter Speed and Launce. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan. Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; 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 tive pence thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia? Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Laun. No. Speed. How then? Shall he marry her 2 Laun. No, neither. Speed. What, are they broken.? Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st? Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. 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. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: But now I worship a celestial sun. To learn his wit to' exchange the bad for better.- If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; I to myself am dearer than a friend; For love is stili more precious in itself: I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, SCENE VII. Verona. A Room in Julia's House. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long, [food? Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. 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? Of greater time than I shall show to be. [breeches? Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your Jul. That fits as well, as- tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale?' Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Jul. That is the least, Lncetta, of my fear: Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him! 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 longing 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. ACT III. SCENE I. [Exeunt. Milan. An Anti-Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Duke. Sir Thurio, give as leave, I pray awhile; We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thurio. My duty pricks me on to utter that I know, you have determin'd to bestow her A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a corded ladder fetch her down; For which the youthful lover now is gone, And this way comes he with it presently; Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. But, good my lord, do it so cunningly, That my discovery be not aimed at For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence. Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. [Exit. Enter Valentine. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify I am to break with thee of some affairs, Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; Neither regarding that she is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father; And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, I now am full resolved to take a wife, And turn her out to who will take her in Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower; For me and my possessions she esteems not. Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee? Is privilege for thy departure hence: Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Which all too much I have bestow'd on thee. But if thou linger in my territories, Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. I Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan here, Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; [her. If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone; 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. [Reads. Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak ?I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me; What letter is this same? What's here?-To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lolge, 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' them, Because myself do want my servants' fortune: I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their tord should be. What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee: "Tis so and here's the ladder for the purpose.- But, as thou lov'st thy lie, make speed from hence. [Exit. Val. And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her, Is self from self; a deadly banishment! What light is light, if Silvia be not seen! What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by ? Unless it be to think that she is by, Aud feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon : She is my essence; and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom: Tarry I here, I but attend on death; But, fly I hence, i fly away from life. Enter Proteus and Launce. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Pro. What seest thou? nish'd. Pro. That thou art banish'd, O that's the news; From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banish'd? Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force) A sea of me ting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness. became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire; Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so, When she for thy repeal was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of 'hiding there. Val. No more; unless the next word, that thou Have some malignant power upon my life: [speak'st, 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, And study help for that which thou lament'st. Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Exeunt Val, and Pro. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of 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; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cat-log Pulling out a Paper) of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter Speed. Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership? Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: what news then in your paper? Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read. Laun. I will try thee: tell me this: who begot thee? Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can set. Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock? Speed. Item, She can wash and sour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured. Speed. Item, She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. 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. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kiss'd fasting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: read on. Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, She is curst. Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut now, of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her: she was nine and not mine, twice or thrice, in that last article: rehearse that once more. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, Laun. More hair than wit,-It may be; I'll prove it: the cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit, is more than the wit; for the greater hides the less. What's next? Speed. And more faults than hairs,- Laun. That's monstrous: O, that that were out! Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracions: well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible, Speed. What then? Laun. Why, then I will tell thee,-that thy master stays for thee at the north-gate. Speed. For me! Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee. Speed. And must I go to him? Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner! 'pox of your love-letters! [Exit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself iuto secrets!-I'll after, to rejcice in the boy's correction. [Exit. SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord. Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; talk. Speed. Item, She is slow in words. Laun. 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. Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. "Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially against his very friend. [him, Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage Your slander never can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being entreated to it by your friend. Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him. But say, this weed her love from Valentine, It follows not that she will love sir Thurio. Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse: 1 Out. Why ne'er repent it, if it were done so : Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy: Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Or else I often had been miserable. Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, You must provide to bottom it on me: Which must be done, by praising me as much As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine. Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind; And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Pro, As much as I can do, I will effect:- Visit by night your lady's chamber-window Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love. To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: Duke. About it, gentlemen. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, And afterwards determine our proceedings. Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you. ACT IV. [Exeunt. SCENE I. A Forest, near Mantua. Enter certain Outlaws. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast: I see a passenger. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction. 1 Out. We'll have him sirs, a word. It is an honourable kind of thievery. 2 Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to? Val. Nothing, but my fortune. 3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thrust from the company of awful men: Myself was from Verona banished, For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the duke. 2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. 1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. With goodly shape; and by your own report As we do in our quality much want; 2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general?" To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3 Out. What say'st thou wilt thou be of our con Say ay, and be the captain of us all We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, [sort? 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poor passengers. 3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And show thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Milan. Court of the Palace. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend: 2 Out. If there be ten,shrink not, but down with 'em. When to her beauty I commend my vows, She bids me think, how I have been forsworn Enter Thurio, and Musicians. Thu. How now, sir Proteus, are you crept before us? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Whom? Silvia ? Pro. Ay, Silvia-for your sake. Thu. I thank you for your own. Let's tune, and to it lustily a while. Now, gentlemen, Enter Host, at a Distance; and Julia in Boy's Clothes. Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly; I pray you, why is it? Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. |