geance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog: -no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on:-now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman; -well, I kiss her;-why, there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter Panthino.. Pon. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty❜d. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,Why dost thou stop my mouth? Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your fol lowers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Enter Duke. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.- Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves. Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: And though myself, have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time, To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. I'll send him hither to you presently. [Exit Duke. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being bling, How could he see his way to seek out you? Vel. Why Indy, 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 gentle man. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus!-Mistress, I beseech του, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Pre. No; that you are worthless. Enter Servant. I left them all in health. Fal. How does your lady? and how thrives your love? Pre. 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: And hath so humbled me, as, I confess, Şar, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. I will not flatter her. Tel. 0, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was siek, 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? Kal. 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 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. 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, Ay, and we are betroth'd;. Nay, more, our marriage-hour, Plotted; and 'greed on, for my happiness. Pro. [Exit Val. I will.Even as one heat another heat expels, Or as one nail by strength drives out another, So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer object quite forgotten. Is it mine eye, or Valentinus' praise, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ? She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love:That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, Bears no impression of the thing it was. Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold; And that I love him not, as I was wont: O! but I love his lady too, too much; And that's the reason I love him so little. How shall I dote on her with more advice, That thus without advice begin to love her? 'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld, And that hath dazzled my reason's light; But when I look on her perfections, There is no reason but I shall be blind. If I can check my erring love, I will; If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. SCENE V.-The same. A street. 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 five 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? Speed. What thou say'st? To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.- But there I leave to love, where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross, 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. Speed. Than how? Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the ale with a Christian: Wilt thou go? [Exeunt. Speed. At thy service. SCENE VI.-The same. An apartment in the palace. Enter Proteus. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; And even that power, which gave me first my oath, Provokes me to this three-fold perjury. Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: 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 [Exit. By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. 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; But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns; He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; Till the last step have brought me to my love; Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. To be fant stie, may become a youth of greater time than I shall shew to be. But, when I call to mind your gracious favours I know you have determin'd to bestow her Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your Than, by concealing it, heap on your hear breeches? 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. Lar. 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. Lur. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Lur. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: Lur. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jal. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: ACT III. [Exeunt. 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 That I had any light from thee of this. 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: SCENE I-Milan. An anti-room in the Duke's pal || Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter: ace. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Duke. SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about.- [Exit Thu. Cannot your grace win her to fancy him? Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, 32 And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? 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 her: Send her another; never give her o'er ; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. 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. Pal. 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. lord. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Fal. 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 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; [Reads. And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: 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; While I, their king, that hither them importune, Do curse the grace, that with such grace hath bless'd them, Because myself do want my servants' 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 will I enfranchise thee: "Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.- Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. To die, is to be banish'd from myself; Enter Proteus and Launce. |