Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, servant?
Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire; sır 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, 20 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 followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words.
Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father.
Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?
Sit. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty.
Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them pri-
[blind,
Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being
How could he see his way to seek out you?
Val. Why, lady, 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.
Sil. Have done, have done, here comes the gentleman.
Val. Welcome, dear Protheus!-Mistress, I
beseech you,
Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
of this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
30 Val. Leave off discourse of disability:-
Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed :
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself.
Sil. That you are welcome?
Pro. No; that you are worthless.
Enter Servant.
Val. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.
[man?
Duke. Know you Don Anthonio, your country-35
Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed.
Duke. Hath he not a son?
Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well de-40 The honour and regard gard of such a father.
Duke. You know him well?
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:
Yet hath sir Protheus, for that's his name,
Made use and fair advantage of his days:
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth
Come all the praises that I now bestow)
He is complete in feature, and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an empress' love,
As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir! this gentleman is come to me,
With commendation from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time a-while:
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.
Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had beenhe.
Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth;
Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.
Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Serv.
Come, sir Thurio,
Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome:
I'll leave you to confer of home-affairs;
45 When you have done, we look to hear from you.
Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
[Exeunt Salvia and Thurio.
Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence
you came?
50 Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.
Val. And how do yours?
Pro. I left them all in health.
Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your
love?
Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you;
I know, you joy not in a love discourse.
Val. Ay, Protheus, but that life is alter'd now :
I have done penance for contemning love;
60 Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs:
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own heart's sor-
O, gentle Protheus, love's a mighty lord; [row.
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe to his correction,
Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love:
Now I can break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.
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?
Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.
Pro. I will not flatter her.
Val. O flatter me; for love delights in praise.
Pro. When I was sick, 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 be1 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 everlastingly.
Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?
Val. Pardon me, Protheus: all I can, is nothing
To her, whose worth makes other worthies no-
She is alone2.
Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
5 Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Is it mine eye, or Valentino's praise,
Her true perfection, tion, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus?
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ;-
10 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:
15 Oh! but I love his lady too, too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I doat on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her?
Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
20 And that hath dazzled so much 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.
Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to
Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always that a man is never undone till he be hang'd; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid,
[thing; 35 and the hostess say, Welcome.
[own;
Pro. Then let her alone.
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 see'st me doat 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
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 Protheus, go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
Pro. Go on before; I shall enquire you forth:
I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make haste?
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
Laun. Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.
Speed. But shall she marry him?
Laun. No.
45 Speed. How then? shall he marry her?
Laun. No, neither.
Speed. What, are they broken?
Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.
Speed. Why thenhow stands thematterwiththem?
50 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
55 not? My staff understands me.
Speed. What thou say'st?
Loun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll
but lean, and my staff understands me.
Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.
60 Laun. Why, stand-under and understand is all
• The first or principal of women. 2 That is, there is none to be compar'd to her. This alludes to the figures made by witches, as representatives of those whom they designed to torment or destroy. With more prudence, with more discretion.
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 no
Without some treachery used to Valentine:-
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window;
Myself in council, his competitor':
5 Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising, and pretended 3 flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter :
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross, [ing.
10 By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceed-
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit.
[me. Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest 15 Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant [lover.
Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot
Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he
SCENE VII.
Julia's house in Verona.
Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee, Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Protheas.
Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.
burn himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to 20 Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,
the alehouse, so; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.
Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the alehouse with a Christian: 25 Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary wilt thon go?
SCENE VI.
Enter Protheus.
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as sir Protheus.
30 Luc. Better forbear, till Protheus make return.
Jul. Oh, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's
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,
[oath, 35 Thou would'st 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,
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
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
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.
Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear:
10 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:
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
40 Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it
The current, that with gentle murmur glides, [burns:
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth
But, when his fair course is not hindered, [rage:
He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones,
45 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:
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
If I lose them, this find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
50 I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
I to myself am dearer than a friend;
For love is still more precious in itself;
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.
And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! 55 Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
1 To suggest is to tempt, in our author's language. 2 Competitor is confederate, assistant, part3 Pretended flight is proposed or intended flight.
With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots;
To be fantastic, may become a youth
Of greater time than I shall shew to be.
Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make
your breeches?
Jul. That fitsas 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 codpiece, madam.
Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances as infinite of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.
Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men.
Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Protheus' birth:
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;
10 His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart;
His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth.
Luc. Pray heaven he prove so, when you
[wrong,
Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that
Jul. Out, out, Lucetta1! that will be ill-favour'd.
Luc. A round hose, madain, now's not worth a
Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pinson. [pin,
Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have
What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: 15 To bear a hard opinion of his truth:
But tell me, wench, how will the world reputeme,
For undertaking so unstaid a journey?
I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. [go not.
Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and
Jul. Nay, that I will not.
Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Protheus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
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 2 journey.
20 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;
II am impatient of my tarriance.
My duty pricks me on to utter that
The Duke's palace in Milan.
Enter Duke, Thurio, and Protheus.
¡Sir Valentine her company, and my court: But, fearing lest my jealous aim3 might err, And so, unworthily, disgrace the man,
Duke. SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, a while: 35 (A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd)
We have some secrets to confer about.
[Exit Thurio.
Now, tellme, Protheus, what's your will with me?
Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would dis-
The law of friendship bids me to conceal: [cover, 40 I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,
Which else no worldly good should draw trom
Know, worthy prince, sir Valentine, my friend, 45 And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
The key whereof my self have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'da mean
How he her chamber-window will ascend,
This night intends to steal away your daughter;
Myself am one made privy to the plot.
I know, you have determined to bestow her
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.
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
But, good my lord, do it so cunningly,
And should she thus be stolen away from you, 50 That my discovery be not aimed at 4;
A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, 55 Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming.
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep; 60 That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
Duke. Be they of much import?
Val. Why, then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords,
Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your count.
Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me a while;
I am to break with thee of some affairs,
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought
To match my friend, sir I hurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my lord; and sure, the match
Wererich and honourable; besides, the gentleman 10 Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
Is tull of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?
Duke. No, trustme;sheispeevish, 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 her's,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age 20
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
I now am full resolv'd 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.
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.
Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone;
How shall I best convey the ladder thither? [it
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear
Under a cloak, that is of any length. [turn?
15 Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the
Val. Ay, my good lord.
Duke. Then let me see thy cloak;
Val. What would your grace have me to do in
Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, bere, [this?
How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy,
And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
(For long agone I have forgot to court;
Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd)
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
Val. Win her with gifts, if she respects not words; 35 What's here? Sulvia, this night will I enfranchise
Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, 30 While I, their king, that thither them importune,
I'll get me one of such another length.
[lord.
Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my
Duke. How shall I fashion me to weara.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! [Duke
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [reads.
25 My thoughts do harbour with my Silvianightly;
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying;
Oh,couldtheir master come and go as lightly, [ing.
Himself wouldlodge,where senseless they arely-
My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;
Docurse the gracethat with suchgracehath bless a
Becausemyseljdowantmyservants fortune:[them,
I curse myself, for they are sent by me,
That they should harbour where their lord would
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 scorns sometimes what best con
"Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. [thee:
Why, Phaëton, (for thou art Merops' son)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
Send her another; never give her o'er; [tents her: 40 Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
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, array:
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, 50 By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
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
That no man hath recourse to her by night. [sate,
Val. What lets', but one may enter at her window?
55 Val. And why not death, rather than living tor-
To die, is to be banish'd from myself! [ment?
And Sylvia is myself: banish'd from her,
Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Sylvia be not seen?
Duke. Herchamber is aloft, far from the ground; 60 What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life.
Unless it be, to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
For is the same as for that, since.
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