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;
I am impatient of my tarriance 'now."
We return to the Palace in Milan, where Proteus dishonorably betrays his friend to Silvia's father. When they are alone, the Duke asks:
Duke. 'Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would 'discover,
The law of friendship bids me to conceal;
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours,
My 'duty urges me to utter that
Which, else, no worldly good should draw from me.
Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
This night intends to 'steal-away your daughter.
I know, you have determined to bestow her
On 'Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates.
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,
(Being unprevented,) to your timeless grave.
Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care:
This love of theirs 'myself have often seen,
And oftentimes have purposed to 'forbid
Sir Valentine her company and my Court;
But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err,
I gave him 'gentle looks; and, for my fear,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The 'key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she 'cannot be conveyed away.
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised a plan
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 even" aimed-at;°
For love of 'you, 'not hate unto my friend, Hath made me 'publisher of this intent. 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.
The Duke remains to watch Valentine hastening to the Palace,— ah ha!—with something bulky concealed under his cloak.
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 sojourn at your Court. Duke. Nay, then, no matter; stay with me awhile... I am to breakd with thee of some affairs
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.'T is 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 honourable; besides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
'Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.
Cannot your grace 'win her to fancy him?
Duke. No, trust me: she is peevish, sullen, froward,
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
And, (may I say to thee,) this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my 'love from her...
I now am full resolved to take a 'wife;
And turn her out-to who will take her 'in.
Vul. What would your grace have 'me to do in this?
Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan® here,
Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
And nought esteems my 'agéd eloquence:
Now, therefore, would I have 'thee for my tutor,—
How, 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.
Dumb 'jewels often, in their silent kind,
More than 'quick" 'words, do move a 'woman's mind.
b glimpse of information.
d communicate, O. R. There is a lady in Verona heere; (but the scene is in Milan.) flove (have affection for).
Duke. But she did 'scorn a present that I sent her.
Val. A woman sometimes scorns what should content her."
Send her 'another; never give her o'er,
For scorn at 'first makes 'after-love the more.
If she do frown, 't is not in 'hate of you,
But rather to beget more 'love in you;
If she do chide, 't is not to have you 'gone;
For why?-the fools are mad if left 'alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth
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 no man hath access by day to her.
Val. Why, then I would resort to her by 'night.
Duke. Ay; but the doors be locked, and keys kept safe.
Val. What lets but one may enter at her 'window?
Duke. Her chamber is 'aloft, far from the ground.
Val. Why, then, a 'ladder, quaintly made of cords,
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.
Val. By seven o'clock 'I'll get you such a ladder.
Duke. 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. How shall I fashion me to 'wear a cloak?
I pray thee, let me feel 'thy cloak
What letter is this same? What's here?" To Silvia!"
And here the ladders fit for my proceeding!
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.
O. R. what best contents her. b hinders. с © skilfully. d priestess of Venus at Sestos; who, on the death of her lover Leander, threw herself from her tower into the sea. ea youth of Abydos who, at the invitation of Hero, frequently swam across the Hellespont, but was accidentally drowned. fhigh born (of ardent disposition). BO. R. an engine.
The Duke opens the letter, and, glancing over it, singles out the last line:
"Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee."
"T is so; and here's the ladder for the purpose!
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!
But if thou 'linger in my territories,
By Heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the 'love
I ever bore my daughter, or thyself.
Begone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make 'speed from hence.
And why not 'death, rather than living 'torment?
To die, is to be banished from 'myself;
And Silvia 'is myself: banished 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,
Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive.
I fly not 'Death, to fly 'this deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but 'attend on death;
But, fly I 'hence, I fly away from 'life!
Proteus enters hastily, followed by Launce.
Pro. Friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My ears are stopped, and cannot hear 'good news, So much of 'bad already hath possessed them.
Pro. Then, in dumb silence, will I bury 'mine;
For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.
Val. Is Silvia dead? or hath she 'now' 'forsworn me?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. 'What is your news?
a essential existence. b cease to exist.
O. R. his (the Duke's). d inserted word.
Launce. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are 'vanished. Pro. That thou art 'banished: Oh! that is the news :
From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.
Val. Doth 'Silvia know that I am banished?
Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offered, to the doom,*
A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered;
With them, upon her knees, her humble self;
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire:
Besides, her intercession chafed him so,
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 '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.
! 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.
Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate.
Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,
Bid him make haste, and meet at the North Gate.
Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. [
Launce looks suspiciously at Proteus, as Valentine is led away : 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 't is I love; and yet 't is a 'woman! She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cat-log [Pulling out of her conditions. Imprimis, "She can fetch and carry." Why, a 'horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot 'fetch, b that is, if he be not a double knave (a knave on only one occasion). • qualities. d in the first place.
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