And, where I thought the remnant of mine age [her: 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 sometimes scorns what best contents 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: 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 promis'd 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. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept Though no man hath recourse to her by night. [safe. 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. [that. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me 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 me flying: O, could their muster come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that thither them impórtune, Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee: Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy, run, and seek him out Pro. What seest thou? Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!What is your news? [vanish'd. Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are 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, With many bitter threats of 'biding there. [speak'st, Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st not help, Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia, hapless Valentine! [Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. 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 oluck 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 waterspaniel,-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! Loun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Speed. Why, man, how black? Laun. Why as black as ink. Speed. Let me read them. Laun. Fye on thee; jolt-head; thou canst not read Speed. Thou liest, I can. Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O, illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read." Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy papers. Laun. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew. Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock. Speed. She can wash and scour. 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 kissed 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 doth talk in her sleep. [her talk Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in 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 vir. tue: I pray thee, out with 't; and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud. Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. [crusts. Speed. Item, She hath no teeth. 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 mine, 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'l 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! Speed. And more wealth than faults. Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious: Well, I'll have her: And if it be a match, as nothing is impossible, Speed. What then? By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, Laun. Why, then will I tell thee,-that thy mas-Which must be done, by praising me as much ter stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me? As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine. Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind; Laun. For thee? ay: who art thou? he hath Because we know, on Valentine's report, staid for a better man than thee. Speed. And must I go to him? love letters! 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 [Exit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets!—I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's [Exit. correction. SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Pro. Gone, my good lord. Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast shewn some sign of good desert,) Makes me the better to confer with thee. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon 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 How she opposes her against my will. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do, to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend. Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do: "Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially, against his very friend. 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. [him, You are already love's firm votary, And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :- Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Visit by night your lady's chamber-window, Duke. This discipline shews thou hast been in love. To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music. To give the onset to thy good advice. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace, till after supper; ACT IV. SCENE I.-A Forest, near Mantua. Enter certain Out-laws. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. [you; Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much. Val. My friends, 1 Out. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him. 3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord. if I can do it, For he's a proper man. Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse : I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it if it were done so : But were you banish'd for so small a fault? Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues? Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. 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. Speed. Master, be one of them; It is an honourable kind of thievery. Val. Peace, villain! 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 banish'd, For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the duke. Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. But to the purpose,-(for we cite our faults, That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives,) And, partly, seeing you are beautified With goodly shape; and by your own report A linguist; and a man of such perfection, As we do in our quality much want; 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 Say, ay, and be the captain of us all : [consórt? We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, Love thee as our commander, and our king. 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2Out. 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 shew thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Milan. Court of the Palaes. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. Under the colour of commending him, 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. Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. 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. Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where you shall hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for. Jul. But shall I hear him speak? Host. Hark! Hark! Jul. Is he among these? Host. Ay: but peace, let's hear SONG. Who is Silvia? what is she, [Music plays That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heavens such grace did lend her, Is she kind, as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness : To help him of his blindness; That Silvia is excelling; Upon the dull earth dwelling: Host. How now? are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? the music likes you not. Jul. He plays false, father. Host. How? out of tune on the strings? Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves ny very heart-strings. Host. You have a quick ear. Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart. Host. I perceive, you delight not in music Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! Jul. Ay; that change is the spite. Host. You would have them always play but one thing? Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman? Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he loved her out of all nick. Jul. Where is Launce? Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present o his lady. Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pro. At saint Gregory's well. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. That I may compass yours. That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? But she is dead. Jul. "Twere false, if I should speak it; For, I am sure, she is not buried." [Aside. Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth'd: And art thou not asham'd Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine. Jul. He heard not that. [Aside. Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia Entreated me to call, and know her mind; There's some great matter she'd employ me in.Madam, madam! SILVIA appears abone, at her window. Your servant, and your friend, I am thus early come to know what service Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances Sil. This evening coming. At Friar Patrick's cell, Sil. Good morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeun SCENE IV.-The same. Enter LAUNCE with his dog. When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard: : one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three |