Here is a coil1 with protestation! [Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased To be so angered with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were as angered with the same! I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear And throw it thence into the raging sea! Luc. Madam, 2 Re-enter LUCETTA. Dinner is ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go. you will. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like telltales here? Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? SCENE III. The same. House. [Exeunt. A Room in Antonio's Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him? Pant. He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet; Ant. Nor need'st thou much impórtune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. I have considered well his loss of time; And perfected by the swift course of time: 1 Reproach or imputation. Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant, How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal court. Ant. I know it well. Pant. "Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised: I will despatch him to the emperor's court. Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, And to commend their service to his will. Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him. Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Delivered by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved 1 i. e. break the matter to him. And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish; Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; 1 For what I will, I will, and there an end. I am resolved, that thou shalt spend some time What maintenance he from his friends receives, To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I am peremptory. Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.- [Exeunt ANT. and PANT. Pro. Thus have I shunned the fire, for fear of burning; And drenched me in the sea, where I am drowned: The uncertain glory of an April day; Re-enter PANTHINO. Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for He is in haste; therefore, I pray you go. 1 i. e. wonder not. you; 2 Exhibition is allowance of money; it is still used in the universities for a stipend. Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but one.1 Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine :Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah Silvia! Silvia! Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her? Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook. Val. Well, you'll still be too forward. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam Silvia ? Speed. She that your worship loves? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms, like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a robinred-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her 1 On and one were anciently pronounced alike, and frequently writ ten so. |