Sil. But I am free; And will not be enslav'd, nor doom'd to wed Val. My arms, dear saint, shall be your sanctuary; I lodge you in my bosom, and will wear you Safe in my heart. [Thurio is heard singing without, L. Sir Thurio comes; retire. Su. It is too late.-This paper will direct you. [Gives a paper to Valentine. Enter THURIO, singing, L. Thu. Lady Silvia, I am your ladyship's slave. I have been sitting for my picture, in hopes you will receive the shadow of your humble servant with more kindness than you are pleased to honour the substance. If I had my will, the painter should take me at my prayers-there is then a heavenly beauty in the face; the soul moves in the superficies; and it would bear an exact resemblance of the adoration I pay to your charms. Sil. My lord, your compliment calls your faith in question; but you were bred with the milk of the court; you speak the courtier's dialect, and it becomes you. [To Valentine.] Servant, you are sad. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I, that I am not? Val. Wise. Thu. What instance of the contrary? Val. Your folly. Thu. And how quote you my folly? Val. I quote it in your jerkin. Thu. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? Do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. 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. Si 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 do believe it, sir; you have an exchequer o. words, which, I think, would show richer, if set to some tune your lordship would sing them better than any man of quality about the court. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Enter the DUKE and Attendants, L. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset; Sir Valentine, your father's in good health; [Crosses to Valentine. What say you to a letter from your friends, Of much good news? Val. My lord, I will be thankful To any happy messenger from thence. Duke. Know you Antonio, your countryman 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. He hath, my lord; a son that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well? Val. I know him as myself; for, from our infancy, To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; C 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, Val. Should I have wished a thing, it had been he. [Crosses, R. [Exeunt Duke and Attendants, R. Val. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure I think she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then, he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Sil. Have done, have done. Val. Here comes the gentleman. Enter PROTEUS, L. Welcome, [Crosses to Proteus.] dear Proteus!-Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. If this be he you oft have wished to hear from. To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Pro. [Crosses to Silvia.] Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. 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. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro. No; that you are worthless. Enter an Officer, R. Offi. Madam, my lord, your father, would speak with you. Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio, [Exit Officer, R. Go you with me. Once more, new servant, welcome : When you have done, we look to hear from you. [Exeunt Thurio and Silvia, R. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. All, all are well, and have them much commended. Val. How does your lady, and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you: 1 know you joy not in a love discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now; I have done penance for contemning love. Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth: 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? Val. Call her divine. Pro. I will not flatter her. 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. Nay, 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, [Crosses, R. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. (R.) Pardon me, Proteus; all I can is nothing To her whose worth makes other worthies nothing: She is alone. Pro. Well, let her then alone. Val. Why, man, she is mine own; And I more rich in having such a jewel, Than twenty seas, though all their sand were pearl, Only for his possessions are so huge, Is gone with her along; and I must after, Pro. But she loves you? full of jealous fears. Val. Ay, ay; we are betrothed; Nay, more, our marriage-hour, [He shows Proteus the paper which Silvia gave him. With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determined of; how I must climb her window, The ladder made of cords, and all the means Val. Will you make haste? Pro. I will. E'en as one heat another heat expels, [Exit Valentine, R. So the remembrance of my former love Her true perfection, or my false transgression, |