Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,-
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc. Aias! the way is wearisome and long. Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary 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 Proteus.
Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make re-
turn.
[soul's food?
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my
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
But qualify the fire's extreme rage, [fire,
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;

[stones,

But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd
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?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men.
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed page.
Luc. Why then, your ladyship must cut
your hair.
[strings,
Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken
With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots;
To be fantastic may become a youth
Of greater time than I shall show to be.

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

Jul. That fits as well as-" tell me, good my lord,

What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Why, even what fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta.

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

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be illfavour'd. [worth a pin, Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not 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
For undertaking so unstaid a journey? [me
I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd.
Luc. If you think so, then stay at home,
Jul. Nay, that I will not. [and go not.
Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus 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.
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 Proteus.

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect !

But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth : His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. [come to him!

Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you 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,
To take a note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me upon my louging journey.
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:
I am impatient of my tarriance.

ACT III.

Excunt.

SCENE I.-Milan. In the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, a while;

We have some secrets to confer about.

[Exit Thurio. Now tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? [discover,

[me.

Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would The law of friendship bids me to conceal : But when I call to mind your gracious favours Done to me, undeserving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that, Which else no worldly good should draw from 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 determin'd to bestow her On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates; And should she thus be stolen 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,

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

care;

Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd 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 disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st 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.

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 age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife, [duty,
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.
Val. 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 aged eloquence:
Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
(For long agone I have forgot to court;
Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd,)
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, Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a More than quick words, do move a woman's

mean

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 aimed at ;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never
That I had any light from thee of this. [know
Pro. Adieu, my lord: Sir Valentine is com-
ing.

Enter Valentine.

mind. [sent her. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I 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; For, "Get you gone, she doth not mean, Away! [Exit. Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; [faces. Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' 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

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

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
a while;

I am to break with thee of some affairs
That touch me near, wherein thou must be

[blocks in formation]

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.
[kept safe,
Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys
That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her

[ground,

window?
Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life. [cords,

Val. Why then, a ladder quaintly made of
To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
So bold Leander would adventure it. [blood,

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of
Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell
me that.
[child,
Duke. This very night; for Love is like a

That longs for everything that he can come by. Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.

Unless it be, to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone: There is no music in the nightingale ;
How shall I best convey the ladder thither? Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may There is no day for me to look upon :
Under a cloak that is of any length. [bear it She is my essence; and I leave to be,
Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the If I be not by her fair influence
Val. Ay, my good lord.
[turn? Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
Duke.
Then, let me see thy cloak :I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
I'll get me one of such another length.
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.
Enter Proteus and Launce.

Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn,
my lord.
[cloak?
Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a
I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.—
[Puts open Valentine's cloak.
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.

[Reads. "My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;

Aying:

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! [them; My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest While I, their king, that thither them importune, [bless'd them, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath 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?

[ocr errors]

Silvia, 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 heav'nly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on
Go, base intruder! overweening slave! [thee?
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,
And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence :

Thank me for this, more than for all the
favours

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 lov'st thy life, make speed from
hence.
Exit.
Val. And why not death, rather than living
torment?

To die, is to be 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 ?

Pro. Run, boy; run, run, and seek him out.
Launce. So-ho! so-ho!

Pro. What seest thou?

Launce. Him we go to find there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither.

Val. Nothing.

Pro. What then?
[strike?
Launce. Can nothing speak? master, shail I
Pro. Who wouldst thou strike?

[blocks in formation]

news!

[friend. From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

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

(Which, unrevers'd, 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,

Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chafd 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 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.
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.
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 lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.
Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest
my boy,
[gate.
Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north
Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come,
Valentine.

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Launce. O, illiterate loiterer ! it was the son
of thy grandmother. This proves, that thou
canst not read.
[paper.

Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy
Launce. There; and Saint Nicholas be thy
Speed. "Imprimis, She can milk." [speed!
Launce. Ay, that she can.

Speed. "Item, She brews good ale."
Launce. And thereof comes the proverb,-
Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.
Speed. "Item, She can sew."
[so?
Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she
Speed. "Item, She can knit."
Launce. What need a man care for a stock
with a wench, when she can knit him a stock?
Speed. "Item, She can wash and scour."
Launce. A special virtue; for then she need
not be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item, "She can spin."

Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.

44

Speed. "Item, She hath many nameless virtues."

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.

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

Val. O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine! [Exeunt Valentine and Proteus. 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 milk-not in her talk. maid; 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 cat-log of her condition. [Reads.] "Imprims, 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?

[at sea.
Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is
Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the
word. What news, then, in your paper?
Launce. The blackest news that ever thou
Speed. Why, man, how black? [heardest.
Launce. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst
Speed. Thou liest; I can. [not read.
Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who
begot thee?

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.

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 love crusts.

I

Speed. "Item, She is curst."

[to bite. Launce. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor."

"

Launce. If her liquor be good, she shall if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Speed. "Item, She is too liberal."

Launce. 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 cannot I help. Well, proceed.

Speed. "Item, She hath more hair than wit,

336

and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults."

Launce. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last [wit." article. Rehearse that once more.

Speed. "Item, She hath more hair than Launce. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll 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 What's next? the greater hides the less.

Speed." And more faults than hairs.". Launce. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!

Speed." And more wealth than faults." Launce. 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?

Launce. Why, then will I tell thee,-that thy master stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me!

Launce. For thee! ay; who art thou? he hath stayed for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long, that going will scarce serve the

turn.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox [Exit. of your love-letters. Launce. Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter: an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-Milan. A Room in the Duke's
Palace. Enter Duke and Thurio.

[ter. The match between Sir Thurio and my daughPro. I do, my lord.

Lant

Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignor-
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.

[spoken

Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:
with circumstance be
Therefore, it must
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 him,

[do it,

Your slander never can endamage him ;
Therefore, the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.
Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love
from him,
Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me;
Which must be done, by praising me as much

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

love you,

Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me
most,

Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her. [figure
Duke. This weak impress of love is as a
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.-
Enter Proteus.

How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
[ously.
Pro. Gone, my good lord.
Duke. My daughter takes his going griev-
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, [so.
(For thou hast shown 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

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in

this kind,

Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,
And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access
Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of
[sion,
you;
Where you may temper her, by your persua-
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.

Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :-
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »