10

O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it!
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken,
And he wants wit that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;

But there I leave to love where I should love.
Julia I lose and Valentine I lose :

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; 20
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss
For Valentine myself, for Julia Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend,
For love is still most precious in itself;
And Silvia-witness Heaven, that made her
fair!-

Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembering that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine.
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window,
Myself in counsel, his competitor.
Now presently I'll give her father notice

30

Of their disguising and pretended flight;
Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross
By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull pro-
ceeding.

Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,

As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit.

SCENE VII.

Verona. JULIA's house.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me;

And even in kind love I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character'd and engraved,
To lesson me and tell me some good mean
How, with my honor, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long! Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feebie steps; Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly,

11

And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.
Luc. Better forbear till Proteus make re-
turn.

Jul. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?

Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's
hot fire,

21

But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the

more it burns.

The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;

But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd

stones,

30

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along 7 Jul. Not like a woman; for I would pre40

vent

The loose encounters of lascivious men : Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Lae. Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.

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.

Lue. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches?

Jul. That fits as well as 'Tell me, good my lord.

50

What compass will you wear your farthingale?' Way even what fashion thou best likest, Lucetta.

Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.

Jul." Out, out, Lucetta! that would be illfavor'd.

Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,

Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on. J. Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have

What thou thinkest meet and is most mannerly.

Bet tell me, wench, how will the world repute

Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
This night intends to steal away your daughter:
Myself am one made privy to the plot.

I know you have determined to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
And should she thus be stol'n away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
To cross my friend in his intended drift
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of sorrows which would press you

down,

20

Being unprevented, to your timeless grave. Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine hon

est care;

30

Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen.
Haply when they have judged me fast asleep,
And oftentimes have purposed to forbid
Sir Valentine her company and my court:
But fearing lest my jealous aim might err
And so unworthily disgrace the man,
A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,
I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find
That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.
And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised

a mean

How he her chamber-window wili ascend
And with a corded ladder fetch her down; 40
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 honor, he shall never
know

That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is
[Exit. 50

coming.

Enter VALENTINE.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger

That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them.

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. 60

'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my Lord; and, sure,

the match

Were rich and honorable; besides, the gentle

man

Is full of virtue, bounty, worth and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter: Cannot your Grace win her to fancy hini?

Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,

Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,
Neither regarding that she is my child 70
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

Duke There is a lady in Verona here Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy And nought esteems my aged eloquence: Now therefore would I have thee to my tutorFor long agone I have forgot to court; Besides, the fashion of the time is changedHow 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:

90

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 sometimes scorns what best contents her.

Send her another; never give her o'er;
For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; 100
For
get you gone,' she doth not mean
'away !'

Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;

Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. Duke. But she I mean is promised by her friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth, And kept severely from resort of men, That no man hath access by day to her. Val. Why, then, I would resort to her by night. 110

Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe,

That no man hath recourse to her by night. Fal. What lets but one may enter at his window?

Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the

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.

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. 140

[Reads. 'My thoughts do harbor with my Silvia nightly, [flying:

And slaves they are to me that send them O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying!

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;

Savia, this night I will enfranchise thee.' 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. Why, Phaeton,-for thou art Merops' son,Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car And with thy daring folly burn the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?

Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,
And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence:

160

Thank me for this more than for all the favors
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.

Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse; But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit.

Val. And why not death rather than living torment ?

To die is to Je 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
And 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, illumined, 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.

170

180

Pro. Villain, forbear.

Launce. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,

Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.

Val. My ears are stopt and cannot hear good news,

So much of bad already hath possess'd them. Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury

mine,

you are vanished.

Pro. That thou art banished-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, 220 Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom

Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force-
A sea of melting 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 so be-
came them

As if but now they waxed pale for woe:
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding
tears,

230

Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chated him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of biding there.
Val. No more; unless the next word that
thou 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 dolor.
Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst

not help,

240

And study help for that which thou lament'st Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love, Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life, Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that And manage it against despairing thoughts. Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;

Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love. 250

The time now serves not to expostulate :
Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me!

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,

Bid him make haste and meet me at the Northgate.

Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.

Val. O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!

260

[Exeunt Val, and Pro. Launce. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have 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; 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 milkmaid; 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. [Pulling out a paper.] Here is the cate-log of her condition. 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.

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.' 320

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.

331

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 sleep 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. 340

Speed. Item: She is proud.'

Launce. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed.

Item: She hath no teeth.'

Launce. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. Speed. Launce.

to bite.

Item: She is curst.'

Well, the best is, she hath no teeth